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- by Linn Barnes

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-Linn Barnes

When in the course of human events 
it becomes so fucking apparent that 
a depraved abberent has somehow 
gotten his hands on the reins of power
and the sycophanic horseflesh are 
laughing and braying their fat asses 
off as they shit lies all over the sad
streets of our towns and cities
while the citizens are informed 
they should get the fuck over it,

then,

You better be getting busy
because time is running short
on a fast burning and despicable fuse
enabling this man to dabble in
just about anything he may fancy.

Sign up 
Take a step
Write something
Speak out
Be outraged
Don’t be shy
And fear nothing.


Sunday

- by Linn Barnes

Sunday
-Linn Barnes

I spent this last day
doing as much nothing 
as i could grumble up

until as the day wained
and upon the holy screen 
a game was cast before

my squinted eyes which 
dragged me away from 
my stalwart easel

to face the glamour 
of yet another dusk
of gladiatorial grins

along with a nation
of sloths and fools who’ve
been duped into thinking

as caligula would have had it
that what they see will bring
gloated and grinatious

fancy into desperate lives
hanging filial like over 
the constant flames

of jonathan edward’s
crispy consuming flames
for us like his spiders

into the sharp and pure 
light of a moment’s relief
before the cascading

fall to the distant
and hopeless valley
where legions of the lost

shall suffer despair and madness 
as the rest wait patiently
for the next ride down

for the fall seems upon us
as the light seems to fade
and courage is all we have left.


Painting

- by Linn Barnes

Painting
-Linn Barnes

There among the images
among the dancing colors

At what seems the border of 
the deep quantum world

Where the elusive here 
may be not far from there

And the perilous now just 
might be the vanished was

Where tomorrow shines
bright beacons for the

Bustling and fired imagination
on fire with the blade in hand

Where in dense shadows
and plains of space I am

Learning to broadcast
visions of multiple beauty 

Which have captured
and thoroughly enraptured

This wandering soul
now less adrift than ever

As the canvas yields 
to the density of secrecy



The Phantome

- by Linn Barnes


La Dame du Lac

- by Linn Barnes


The Tree

- by Linn Barnes

The Tree
-Linn Barnes

Staring year after year after year
at the bright lights of the forever tree 

Once wobbled me to the verge of collapse
until I guess I got used to it and learned

To bathe in the multicolored fantasy
flashing without fail each December

While always fearing that one day
a shadow would pass over all of it and

The glamour of the glimmer would
crinkle crack and creep away

Leaving me stranded with years of
desolate nothingness ahead

But that has not to this time
been the case as I revel once

Again in the primitive seduction
of sparkle and twinkle blinking

The old routine and nothing has
been lost to time but time itself

The old and merciless enemy
stalking all the days we have

Wandered into careless vanishing 
while the twinkling lights pulse

Glow and shatter the shadows
so eager to put them to rest


On Stage

- by Linn Barnes

On Stage
-Linn Barnes

Miracles are in the 
air on stage
where the 
bright lights 
heat and bear down

where there is no 
place to hide
where there is 
only the truth
being born which 
rattles the storms 
that rattle
your being

where there is 
finally no retreat 
and there is left 
only the need 
to engage
to bring joy

and 
hope 
to 
survive


Solstice

- by Linn Barnes

Solstice
-Linn Barnes

It is said Gabriel will lean down out of heaven
and with a mighty blast on his golden horn

shock with booming wave after wave fields
mountains forests lakes seas and plains

with the clear good news for all the living
that the darkness will be swept back

that a new sun is busy being born
after the longest night is weathered

while the raw cold and fierce winds
hold all on earth in shock and fear

the fires are lit heaped and banked
as all await the dawning of another year


A Full Chord

- by Linn Barnes

A Full Chord
-Linn Barnes 

The trees are mostly bare
cold light is shinning 

In the deep woods
where shadows dance

In plain sight
while the day

Crumbles into dusk
where the truth

Can no longer
be hidden or shaded

But waits for the new day
transparent to the will

Flooding the fresh
air with a full chord

Which resonates and 
warms the willing heart

Which sings sweetly 
an ancient song

About justice and 
where it can be found


Gaining Ground

- by Linn Barnes

Gaining Ground
-Linn Barnes

Surefooted
gaining ground

We closed on the prey
crippled in the fray

And along with the rest 
brought him down

The first blast to his pride
shamming him for the loser 

He dreaded being and damning him
for the rest of his miserable life

To the junkyard of failure 
and the outhouse of fools


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