Come to the Stone

Posted on February 13, 2024 by alicebarrett

           by Randall Jarrell

The child saw the bombers skate like stones across the fields 

As he trudged down the ways the summer strewed 

With its reluctant foliage; how many giants 

Rose and peered down and vanished, by the road

The ants had littered with their crumbs and dead.

“That man is white and red like my clown doll,”

He says to his mother, who has gone away.

“I didn’t cry, I didn’t cry.”

In the sky the planes are angry, like the wind.

The people are punishing the people – why?

–

He answers easily, his foolish eyes

Brightening at that long simile, the world;

The angels sway above his story like balloons.

A child makes everything (except his death) a child’s.

Come to the stone and tell me why I died.

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What Eve Chose

Posted on August 17, 2023 by alicebarrett

Eve chose knowledge over obedience,

and escaped Eden.

.

She embraced the snake with open arms

and ate.

.

She ran through the open gate

smiling.

.

Eve knew.

.

With joy, she learned to dance.

In suffering, she learned to heal,

.

In this world where

Everything would never be named.

.

….

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Prayers to Mary

Posted on March 9, 2023 by alicebarrett
Celtic Goddess Danu (source unknown)
Celtic Goddess Danu (source unknown)

1 Prayer to Mary

Where are You hiding in this bleak time?

The grey sky is covering where I stand.

This is Your time to 

Dig in the rubble,

And search for my heart,

Or at least to hold my hand.

2 Another Prayer to Mary

You are at the end of my in breath,

So close 

Yet out of reach.

The climber swings free, and

In a panic cannot reach the rope.

The grey sky is below.

3. Knowing is Hope

Now look, light begins to light the snow.

Look, the leaves shimmer, I know they rustle.

I cannot hear, but I know they rustle.

No matter my deafness, they rustle.

For now, that is enough,

To know that

Out of earshot

Leaves are rustling in the breeze.

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Waiting in the Rain

Posted on December 1, 2022 by alicebarrett

I am standing in the rain,

Just standing here, looking into the grey air,

Getting wet.

.

The country is raining down all that is worst in our nature

As if these things had always been with us,

In threatening clouds above us,

Waiting for some thundering rage to let loose.

.

Soaked to the bone,

I pray for forgiveness for not looking up into

that coiled storm we knew must break.

It is not too late to build sandbag dams,

Or perhaps I’ll stand in the rain

Until I am swept away.

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Poetry Race for the Center for New Americans!

Posted on November 15, 2022 by alicebarrett

This year I am joining the race to raise funds for the Center for New Americans in Northampton. This year we have new students from Ukraine and other countries around the world.

From our director:

Why it matters – Every ESOL program in our region has a waitlist for classes.   Every community-based program offering low cost asylum application assistance has a waitlist.  The media reports that worldwide, migration is at historic levels.  We see the impacts of that in our community. We have a very hard time turning prospective students and clients away, especially when we know there are few alternatives, and that the services we offer — English classes, immigration legal services — are the entry point to all other resources. We have challenged ourselves to create additional classes, hire additional staff, purchase additional devices.  All of this stretches our program to capacity, and it all requires funding. That is why this annual Poem-a-thon matters so much.

To pledge, please go to cnam.org

To make the challenge harder for myself, I am working on a series of linked narrative poems. Whew!

1. I won’t be posting them on my blog as usual. That makes later publication difficult.

2. They will all be first or second drafts, not final.

3. If you’d like to read them, I can send you some or all via email or snail mail in early December. Just let me know.

4. A public reading by the poets will be held the beginning of December.

Blessings, Alice

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Roisin’s Telling 2

Posted on October 27, 2022 by alicebarrett

The wind’s coming in the cracks now.

The wind’s shifted as it does.

 I am skinned with it. 

This is when Peg ‘d gather me up with a laugh and tell me to stop the complaining. 

She was the worst weaver in the county and her blanket couldn’t keep out a cool whiff. 

But her full body was warm with comfort and her arms held my breasts 

until the heat consumed us both 

and afterwards we slept. 

…

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The Coming Cold

Posted on October 23, 2022 by alicebarrett

Roisin’s Telling 1

The time now is The Coming Cold.

The sun will lower again tomorrow 

and again tomorrow and the next.

Life up in the mountain croft is restless, I can feel it.

.

The paths down will soon be black and

the cows will must lead the way down.

The lads will follow them down to the pens,

No work needed as the dumb animals will slowly 

follow each other down, 

Save for the dumbest of all who will wander off 

and be found by a boy and brought on back.

.

Food and warmth for the Winter

for the cattle and the lads.

I am stuck here by the fire

in a house of burning peat.

Watching with wonder, again and again,

as the women prepare loaves and fish

for the Welcome home meal.

.

My spine is twisted as a spindle 

My hands the claws of an old hungry crow.

Only my brain is sharp

and my eyes as a young girl’s.

I see the young girls twirling their hair, kneading the dough, spinning for cloth, 

longing for their lads as the lads long for them.

.

I can hear the loud murmurs of the women within,

and I begin to hear the lowing of cows from a distance.

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Another Autumn Poem

Posted on September 29, 2022 by alicebarrett

The sun blasts orange through the trees,

A last grasp to cling to the day. It’s rays tear

Through the branches, reaching out to us,

Pleading for us not to let it slip below the hill.

We watch unmoved, or perhaps a little sad.

We too will slip below, but not yet.

We watch, curious to see what we can learn

From the beauty of that last grasp.

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A Heavy Rain

Posted on November 12, 2021 by alicebarrett

I am standing in the rain,

Just standing here, looking into the grey air,

Getting wet.

The sky is raining down all that is worst in our nature

As if these things had always been with us,

In threatening clouds above us,

Waiting for some thundering rage to let loose.

Soaked to the bone,

I pray for forgiveness for not looking up into

that coiled storm we knew must break.

It is not too late to build sandbag dams,

Or perhaps I’ll stand in the rain

Until I am swept away.

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Hallow E’en 2021

Posted on October 27, 2021 by alicebarrett

Who’s that knocking, knocking at our door?

Their cloths are tattered, their eyes too big;

They smell of dregs and speak in tongues.

Like trolls, they sleep under bridges,

Demanding a token from each passerby.

Cover your ears, they have a banshee wail,

loud devil music, and cry long into the night.

Like Hungry Ghosts, they feed on crumbs.

Go lock the cupboard, we can’t feed them all.

They creep alone at night in silent deserts,

Springing up where you least expect them.

One might marry your niece;

Our blood and their blood might mingle 

destroying us all.

….

Knocking, knocking, knocking.

….

Who is that knocking, knocking at our door?

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