memory

it might have been disappointment that

gave flight

to that lava hot burner

across that cold  kitchen 

or anger 

but it was my mother

who stood her ground

by the stove

handle in hand

as the nearly molten discus crash landed

short of its mark

at my father’s unsure feet 

its circle brand smoking itself

into worn linoleum

acrid uncertainty

hanging in the air 

a half century later

though the house may be cinders

caved into its foundation

the taste of burnt linseed oil

smoldering cork

and an uncertain future 

still remain 

Barry DeCarli

May 31, 2012

©2012 Barry DeCarli

taps echoing

(for my uncles, Albert & George Atkins on Memorial Day

Veterans of WWII)

unceremoniously
your photos stand
against the debris of suburban life
garaged with tools
and transportation
wheels and windows
boxes and broken glass

stored here
your photos stand
for the memory of war
the honor of service
the love of country

accidentally remembered
an afterthought of lawn mowing
trimming and hedging
chain sawing
hammering, nailing
do-it-yourself mentality
for fixing up

but not for war

graphic images
of two uncles who went to war
then came home to live

the American Dream

now
both are gone with
no ceremony
no phone call
no visit
no possibility

this poem is hardly enough

Barry DeCarli
Ferrisburgh, VT
Copyright 2009 Barry DeCarli
Revised 05/29/11
Reposted 05/24/12

moving

and winter, on its cold way

doesn’t know things have changed

only people are rearranged

and quietly lost in the play 

blanketed with fallen snow

the landscape really doesn’t know

that its friends have packed and gone

the final caress, gentle footsteps at dawn 

and peeking through the frigid early sky

not the smallest inkling disturbs the sun

for it neither cares or wonders why

we throw it a tearful kiss and run

neither can we know what to perceive

as we sadden at the life we leave 

Barry DeCarli

From Of Sun and Rain

Copyright 1972 Barry DeCarli

cutting the cord

a film may show the cord
being cut
and some suggest the ineptness
of the doctor making an innie or an outie
as if at that point
the belly button matters

the violence of birth
might be
traumatic
preparation for

separation
approaching nearly two decades
in the future

leaving a first home
escaping the full protection of a thin layer of skin
the warmth, the liquid breath
the sanctuary

years later
a June ceremony
setting the stage
for a September departure
a bloodless umbilical severing

an unsure backward glance
a hastening step

away 

Barry DeCarli
March 26, 2010
Copyright 2010 Barry DeCarli

a better truth

feelings
may speak when silence is
the better truth

but what sacrifice is too great
on the altar of tact
there is no apology for beauty

forgiveness may unburden
but the truth remains
unchanged
can a truth be reconciled by contrition
how long can whitewash cover a scar

apology
forgiveness
silence

which is the truer reckoning

Barry DeCarli
November 22, 2006
Copyright 2010 Barry DeCarli