Monday, December 21, 2015


this mosaic gives us history
even the pieces unfitted
obscuring the margins
will find their


this tapestry razored
and assembled
then shuffled and boxed
bought, brought home and spread out
across a table
the answers still hidden

how much time
to piece a life

to match the edges
of pain
with those of joy

how to balance all meaning
from fact and lie
with hopes and dreams
the weight of memories

what to do with the pieces

Barry DeCarli
Began in 2010, Ferrisburgh, VT
“finished” December 22, 2014
well, finished again December 18, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

Friday, November 27, 2015

so close

how far is a stranger
from the center of your soul

the width of the universe
the depth of an ocean
or just the distance between two people
caught in a glance

how close is a friend

if they cross paths
can they know
will they wonder
will they miss that soul-meeting moment
and stay separate
worlds apart
without ever knowing

how close they were…

Barry DeCarli
November 22, 2015
On an Aer Lingus flight from Milan to Dublin
Draft #2

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Sunday, September 27, 2015


ma per le lacrime
un bambino può piangere
la sua infanzia è stata rubata da lui
scartato sui binari
un straccio insanguinato lasciato alle spalle
un altro passato prosciugando
che soffia attraverso i traversine ferroviarie

scorpioni danzano sopradi raffreddamento pietre grigie
Egli li guarda venire se fossero giocattoli
egli non può avere
Gli occhi scuri di sua madre detengono
l'idea di casa
per illuminare il percorso di domain
attraverso le ombre scure e crudele

ma come il filo spinato taglia profondamente
terrore indebolisce la sua speranza
lei non si lascia andare la mano di suo figlio

Barry DeCarli
25 Settembre 2015
Su Hammond Pond
© 2015 Barry DeCarli
Draft # 2- translation with much help from Google Translate

Friday, September 25, 2015


but for the tears
a small boy may shed
his childhood has been torn from him
discarded on the tracks
a bloodied rag left behind
another past drying up
blowing across the oiled ties

scorpions dance over the cooling grey stones
he watches as if they are toys
he can not have
his mother’s dark eyes hold
the idea of home
to light the path ahead
through the dark cruel shadows

even as the razor wire slices deep
as terror tempers her hope
she does not let go of his hand

Barry DeCarli
September 25, 2015
On Hammond Pond
©2015 Barry DeCarli

Draft #2

Friday, September 18, 2015

lost message

the scarcity of time becomes
too much to waste.
still the pain lasts
and grows
as cells turn too brittle
too emaciated to hold a good memory.

no wonder we miss the sign
pulsing against our eyelids.
the message we won’t accept
takes too much time to get through:

some forgetful god is unable to shape an answer other than


Barry DeCarli
May 19, 2010 & September 18, 2015
On Hammond Pond

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Saturday, August 29, 2015


so many poets
many more unread words
in notebooks
Word documents
on printer paper

who would read
a loose stack
of papers
hardly cohesive
a spineless unbound pile

unglued pages
some caught under
a weight of polished marble
corners blowing
clicking like playing cards
clothes-pinned to metal bike spokes
then luffing in the window’s breeze

who would tighten phrases
shuffle papers
fold them into a manuscript
a volume of verse
seventy poems perfectly bound
placed on a bookstore shelf
title on the spine

to wait for buyers and
readers uncommon

Barry DeCarli
August 27-28, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen MA
©2015 Barry DeCarli
Draft #2

Friday, August 21, 2015

no teaser

called out
for teasing with my words
a faker fashioning phrases
to lure a trusting mind
into my poetic snare

I’d rather be
a magician pulling a thesaurus
out of a hat

a dreamer catching a falling star
holding its rhyme
in a Mason jar

a lamplighter reaching
up to light a circle
of night air
a patch of dark ground
a way home

but not a teaser
keeping a secret
or trying to deceive
with my images that anyone may see

my metaphors as deep as a mirror…

Barry DeCarli
August 15-21, 2015
On Hammond Pond
©2015 Barry DeCarli
draft #4

Friday, August 14, 2015


better obscurity
than the scrutiny
of examining eyes
this kaleidoscope of our own
broken pieces held
up to the light

some will see beauty
some pain and waste
from the rainbow of color
and jagged edges

tumbling as we turn
to the next catastrophe
or epiphany
the mirrored hall of scattered
dreams, tattered triumphs

the spare glory days
conjured with the turn
of a hand illuminating
the bits and beads
the shards of yesterday
the loose ends

the arbitrary patterns
of bliss and blunder roll
to reflect our tunnel vision until
the fractured light shows us
the mismatched fragments

wedded and welded
by shade and color
our sharp edges salt water sanded
to a sea glass satin
yet ever-changing

to those who look into this lens with wisened eyes

Barry DeCarli
August 13, 2015*
Revised August 25, 2017 On South Street Easthampton
*On Hammond Pond, Goshen MA
©2015 Barry DeCarli

Tuesday, August 11, 2015


hope leads us on
teases us with
its shiny baubles
its stunning horizons

it can carry us over
the roiling turmoil
the raging storm
then as easily
with its cornucopia of lies
spill us into the waves

to flounder against its loss

Barry DeCarli
July 31, 2015
On Hammond Pond

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Sunday, July 26, 2015

souls in common

across the sky
the years
the miles
of a great divide
without saying
but knowing
perceiving  the bond
that just a few will see

across a country
a continent
an ocean
souls searching
without touch
or whisper

still a closeness
across the silence
the darkness
the shadows

similar dreams
light up a speck of universe
a candle flicker
a mirror image
one kindred spirit
or two in a life
finding some shared ground
symphonic similarities
songs sung in unison
answers to questions
no one asked

more déjà vu than coincidence
or memory
a waking dream
across the rippled expanse of wonder
the echo of a thought unspoken
the reflection of a rainbow unseen

unfathomable to all
but souls in common

Barry DeCarli
July 23, 2015 revised
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA
©2015 Barry DeCarli

anime in comune

attraverso il cielo
gli anni
le miglia
di un grande divario
senza dire
ma sapendo
percepire il legame
che solo alcuni vedrà

attraverso un paese
un continente
un oceano
anime alla ricerca
senza contatto
o sussurro

ancora una vicinanza
attraverso il silenzio
il buio
le ombre

sogni simili
illuminare un granello di universo
un guizzo candela
un'immagine speculare
uno spirito affine
o due in una vita
trovare un terreno comune
sinfonie intercambiabili
canzoni cantate all'unisono
le risposte alle domande
nessuno ha chiesto

altro déjà vu di una coincidenza
o la memoria
un sogno ad occhi aperti
attraverso l'ignoto distesa di meraviglia
l'eco di un pensiero inespresso
il riflesso di un arcobaleno invisibile

insondabile per tutti
ma le anime in comune

Barry DeCarli
23 luglio 2015 rivisto
Su Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

© 2015 Barry DeCarli

Monday, July 13, 2015

building walls

for Steve Byrne

we build walls against the hurt
mounting up inside
as we trade our dismissed
worry for anger and pain

even as we try to hold back a flood
of obsession that wells up again and again
we don’t know what
our last act in life might be
or if anyone will understand
what we've left behind
or care

as our anguish grows
we add another block
to another row
until finally
we see nothing
but the wall that holds us in

Barry DeCarli
July 11, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

two thoughts


no shimmering of wings
no light waking
no ripples on the shore
no avian symphony

what is lost
in this dark stillness
in this unhopeful silence


sometimes it’s easier
to stop looking
for something lost
to forget
it might be there
close by
just under the moist
matted leaves

Barry DeCarli
July 3, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Friday, June 19, 2015

Charleston’s pain

je suis afro-américain
je suis Mère Emanuel
once again I am a citizen of the Holy City

today I call on myself to see
a deeper heritage
an ancient ancestry of humanity
where we all began the struggle
the pain that many have yet
to overcome

today I call on myself to see
into the hearts of the innocent
into their souls
into their suffering
even so
I know that door will stay shut
until we are willing to open it

though my own white skin will not turn black, today
I am African-American
I am Mother Emanuel

Barry DeCarli
June 19, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

©2015 Barry DeCarli

Friday, April 3, 2015


shattering a stone face
carving canyons of crying
to the sea
savage scars streaking the sky

reflections suspended in the black
silver gods casting curses
screaming witches
slaying the stars

one by one

Barry DeCarli
(written sometime, somewhere in the 1970s)
Revised on April 3, 2015

©Barry DeCarli

Thursday, February 26, 2015

taking steps in a stranger’s shoes

wondering whose shoes caked 
with pain or sorrow
he must lace up tomorrow
where that mile will take him

the burden is his to carry
millstone or milestone
albatross or golden fleece

a heavy talisman that does not
ward off but accepts
even a stranger’s feelings
the anguish, the dread
of someone’s sadness
who will never know

what makes him care
what presses him forward

blessing or curse
gravity or grace

Barry DeCarli
February 17-25, 2015
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA

©2015 Barry DeCarli