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Title Page

by A. Barth

113 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #03-0082; ISBN 1-55395-719-9; US$17.00, C$21.00, EUR13.70, £9.50

A collection of poems dealing with the struggles in our lives, the day to day hum drum, the energy that drives us and the love that keeps us going.

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about the book      about the author      sample excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book A. Barth, an accomplished poet and artist, has compiled a unique book of poetry for the reader to reflect upon and enjoy. Not written for a specific audience, the author transcends socio-economic and educational barriers to bring poetry to everyone. Provocative and refreshing, there are poems about relationships, love, nature, prejudices, work and play. Also included are "scratchings", or short writings of wisdom. Whether you read poetry out of love or duty, or if you never have, just open this book and you will find something directed especially at you!

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About the Author An avid writer and journal keeper, since grade school to the present, her poetry and writings cut to the heart of emotional, political and spiritual ideals bringing an enlightened and refreshing viewpoint to the world. In addition to writing, she is also a fine artist and understands the need we all have for creative expression. She hopes to inspire others, with her passion for writing, to explore their own individual voice through poetry and literature. A. Barth is a native of Minnesota, and makes her home in, Duluth.

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Sample Excerpts

Referencing the Band

My waiter said;
"All the Deadheads are
now Fish-heads".
Isn't that funny?
Still heads either Dead or Fish
I presume the final chapter
will read "Dead Fish"
lost their heads and found
no water in the channel no more
trail to spawn tie-dyed cults
no more bastard guru's
to lead the chants
to vault
societal barriers
to fault
the rich and powerful
with no team to cheer
maybe grass could grow
on their field possibly life
where the dead have trampled
little, buzzing, insects
could deposit drops of love
on every blade
heads will lift from the field
to sing and fish may fall
from heaven.

Chasing Mother's Rainbow

Flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers.
Eight little imaginations playing games.
A sleep-over far from slumber.
Innocence hugging unknown fears
and softly kissing eventual tears.
Eve's children debating apples.
On the bedside of dawn
one foot in the rainbow,
heaven appears never-ending.
Frosted ideas of Mother's bliss
only perpetuates the lie.
Every young girl believes in this
embedding the thorn in her eye.
Strong, loose, pigheaded or giving
the world will so define her.
Trading her flannel for silk or rags
the rainbow is only a memory.
And heaven? Wishful thinking?
Now wearing her Mother's fuzzy bliss
in worn out slippers and humbleness,
she plays the hand-me-down game.

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Catalogue Information

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