Real artists make it look easy, make us think we could do the same. The work here is so crafted. Noah Barfield is an English teacher and father of three on Bainbridge Island, WA. In addition to teaching, Noah writes poetry and plays, makes round things out of wood, hikes, and bicycles around the Pacific Northwest. One of our editors spotted Noah's work on a popular social media site. Yet again, we find these wonderfully connected variations being done for friends and family, hidden testaments of lived experience wrought out of a simple unpretentious versatility. And it is our pleasure to share them with you, dear Reader.
Various Haiku
The wind sings through the
Ferry's bow like notes on an
Aeolian harp.
Petrichor perfumes
The wind once again as the
Rain stops to visit.
And the rain drifts off
Like a lover who leaves your
Bed much, much too soon.
Snuggled with my kids
Listening to the rain-fall
And Artemis Fowl
After days of rain,
Peach clouds stripe the evening sky.
A sunset at last!
Random Free-Verse Poem
Ariadne
My left wing wrapped around you,
Crumpled and streaming feathers,
I tried to shield you
As we plunged to the sea below.
I thought I had built my wings strong,
Strong enough to carry us both
From the maze
And the beast trapped within.
Alas, wax and wood
Feathers and fancy
Were not enough
For flight.
Was it hubris or hope,
Optimism or insanity,
To believe we would make it
To a common shore?
I wanted to cry out in warning
But throat-shot, like Antinous,
My voice whistled away
In the ever-rushing wind.
And so down we fell.
Being immortal
And far more durable than wood, wax, feather, and I,
You survived
And flew away on
Your own wings
While I lay
Broken.
And a Sonnet
“I want you to take care to not mistake
Too much lust for that which remains unnamed.
I am saying this for your own heart’s sake,
For your heart is still healing and in pain.”
You are not Virgil, leading me through Hell
Leaving me wiser on the other side.
I am not Dante, off path as dark fell,
In need of a steadfast and loyal guide.
The time is out of joint, that we can’t change;
And you are farther down this road than I.
Perhaps there’s a way we can rearrange
The truths behind our narratives and try
To open the door to the possibility
Of naming the unnamed between you and me.
Various Haiku
The wind sings through the
Ferry's bow like notes on an
Aeolian harp.
Petrichor perfumes
The wind once again as the
Rain stops to visit.
And the rain drifts off
Like a lover who leaves your
Bed much, much too soon.
Snuggled with my kids
Listening to the rain-fall
And Artemis Fowl
After days of rain,
Peach clouds stripe the evening sky.
A sunset at last!
Random Free-Verse Poem
Ariadne
My left wing wrapped around you,
Crumpled and streaming feathers,
I tried to shield you
As we plunged to the sea below.
I thought I had built my wings strong,
Strong enough to carry us both
From the maze
And the beast trapped within.
Alas, wax and wood
Feathers and fancy
Were not enough
For flight.
Was it hubris or hope,
Optimism or insanity,
To believe we would make it
To a common shore?
I wanted to cry out in warning
But throat-shot, like Antinous,
My voice whistled away
In the ever-rushing wind.
And so down we fell.
Being immortal
And far more durable than wood, wax, feather, and I,
You survived
And flew away on
Your own wings
While I lay
Broken.
And a Sonnet
“I want you to take care to not mistake
Too much lust for that which remains unnamed.
I am saying this for your own heart’s sake,
For your heart is still healing and in pain.”
You are not Virgil, leading me through Hell
Leaving me wiser on the other side.
I am not Dante, off path as dark fell,
In need of a steadfast and loyal guide.
The time is out of joint, that we can’t change;
And you are farther down this road than I.
Perhaps there’s a way we can rearrange
The truths behind our narratives and try
To open the door to the possibility
Of naming the unnamed between you and me.