NathanAnthonyBarstad

Category: Poetry

  • poem 28

    A group of writers sat about in the dead of winter’s snow, Around a fire burning embers only, giving off smoke and glow.  There was one, who sat so silent still, observing his fellow Writers, who exclaimed how tedious and how torturously slow Came the muse of poetic inspiration  to demonstrate and show Them the…

  • poem 27

    Stanza I When I was young, I was not yet full grown; And still, though middle-aged, I am not yet Full grown, but am just a middle-aged man, Whose lust and luster for life has remained Unchanged in a wandering wondering of Aimless bits and pieces of tidbits and  Bit parts, leading nowhere in particu-…

  • poem 26

    Lest a poem suck The life out of one’s soul, Leaving that reader wanting Their soul to be returned, Along with the time they have Wasted in the desert wasteland Of the poverty of words and insights, Written or read for the consumption Of stupidity or ignorance or both, A poem must be poetry, And…

  • poem 25

    This is the way the world ends, This is the way the world ends, Not with a whimper, But with a bang. For as the first was a bang, So shall the last be a bang: And so shall end the beginning, And so shall begin the ending, And cast all light into darkness, And…

  • poem 24

    TIME Stand still, if you will—and wait For the movement of the hands Across the face of the clock, Marking out each moment, Moment by moment in an instant Where there is nothing else but The vast emptiness of echoes, Resounding across the halls Of history and mystery, while all I can do is Be.…

  • poem 23

    And spreading forth wide its pure color white Permeating the reaches of my mind Like a cast net spread well over my thoughts Dragging them through the subconscious ocean Of personality adrift from shore The blank page before me utters no word Sounding an echo of silence within My mind the waters tossed this way…

  • poem 22

    It has been said that Writing a poem is an endeavor To be taken on By giants. Giants write poems because They have to, because No one else can or is able  To write a poem, As all-encompassing, As massive an endeavor It is to write a poem. For the page stares up  At the…

  • poem 21

    Too much Coffee makes Joe Wired— Like a cop on A sting— Re- Cording every con- Verses,  Hopped up on dough- Nuts And adrenaline With too much  Sweet-n-Low. “Shoo- T!” Cried the cap- Tain— After the co- Vert op- E- Ration Had been un- Cover- Ed— Botched by The over- Zealous cop— Too wired with…

  • poem 20

    Limelight shines bright—Like a spotlight,And it ignitesAnd up it lightsAll of your blights. Stare at the sun and be blinded—see, You can’t see anything when you see Through eyes of fire from the burning sun That ignites up each and every one Of the world’s seven point nine billion People in its whole population. The…

  • poem 19

    I endeavor to paint the picture, but the words won’t come out right.  Looking to the sky for inspiration,  I am blinded by the light,  And each word I seek to inscribe  Upon this scape whereon I write, Each word disappears up and away And vanishes from sight.  I hold this steel pen in my…