Three Poems

Amy Barry



Her flaming scarlet hair

draped wild like poison ivy,

sun bled through bronze leaves.

He embraced her tightly,

they shared a heartbeat.


Magenta clouds bruised the sky,

pain shot through her skull,

a gull screamed from above,

images dipped and blurred —

Blood of love began to sing.


He wore the delicacies of her love —

He sang softly,

until the world fell away,

until her heart was still.

He knew she was his.



Our bodies, minds and spirits battered,

Stalked by war.


We plant our landscape with peace,

We sketch dreams,

Our hearts whisper and pine.


We hide in heaps of rubble,

Emerge from our own ghosts,

And blanket our fears with faith..



We swear by you —

We breathe.


When Nudity becomes a Uniform


Fresh falafel,

Tunisian sky,

chests disrobed for revolution.


This collective voice

grasps history and straddles continents,

court tragedies and triumphs.


Slogans speak on painted chests:

‘Breasts feed revolution,’

Can you hear their potent language?


Storm-faced policemen push

through the crowd,

ferrets eyes darting.


Confident, pretty, full-breasted,

uncertain under the media’s glare.

‘Whores!  You shame our country!’


Yet, everyone wants

to stare.


Soon their names, too,

will be carved

in the prison book.

*First published in ‘Where are you From’ Anthology.


Three Poems