Harsh land they say, so we live and die until dark and beaten we
pray our way to heaven.
Bodies angelic flailing about with haunches round; tilted upward.
They don’t pray, these gilded principals. They are the extravagant; taken with themselves.
Wild thoughts we have and exhibitionists we call – darlin’ press
me hard, squeeze me blond; be the skin between the skins and
pressed sheets.
Scream for us heaven and hear our words. Are you capable or are you
touching haunch to haunch gleefully playing it out?
Where are you dream a dream; screaming balls? Withering corona, our
rambling prince. Die a little more, touch not me.
2011 Barry Comer
38.254238
-85.759407
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About barry comer
born, September 23, 1954
city, Louisville
state, Kentucky
A long history in the arts, Barry Comer was known as a sculptor and fine artist in the 70’s, and more of a commercial artist in the 80’s until now.
He has followed a long tradition of “personal explorers”, seeking to understand the world. After living in Israel and volunteering for military service, he left abruptly and returned to the United States.
His travels include a yearly pilgrimage to France, finding like-minded individuals who breathe life for the sake of life. He admires the poet Jacques Prevert for the simplicity and truth of word.
Further, his poems and writing reflect a rhythm sewn from patches of the American experience.
Mr. Comer’s perspectives question the basic principals that are held true. His views of the mystic and of social equality define him emotionally and profoundly.
All work is the intellectual property of Barry Comer.
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