With us today is poet L E Barrett. Here is a little taste of his poetry from his book The Maine Poetic.
THE
20TH MAINE
The
20th Maine remained fixed a top a ridge
Like
an old pine forest facing into a blizzard
Boys
from Rockland, Bangor, and Waterville
Brave
men who came to Gettysburg to fight
Most
rooted behind rocks or trees on a crest
While
Chamberlain kept yelling encouragement
Each
man hot, thirsty, tired and cloaked in smoke
Told
to hold a line or the battle would be lost
The
gray lads charging again and again to no avail
As
a stream below them ran as red as their hearts
With
blood flowing from both the North and South
Keep
steady your weapon, make each round count
It
was then exhausted men without rounds heard
The
chilling order to prepare to fix your bayonet
Mainer’s
will not die hiding behind rocks or trees
We
take the fight to them who still wants our hill
Without
delay each man fixed a bayonet to his rifle
They
gave the order to charge down into the fight
As
each in his turn did with a hellish screaming shout
Rushed
into the dense smoke to face the wall of grey
The
spectacle of the 20th wildly howling with bayonets
A
grisly scene for weary men who turned their grey line
To
be stung by blades and hit by rifle butts as they fled
Running
into the bloody hell from once they emerged
Those
brave Maine men who stood at Little Round Top
Neither
sought nor asked to be the heroes of that day
Brave
sons of Maine that turned the day at Gettysburg
Embraced
death or fear but not the bitter fruit of defeat
AN
OPEN NOTE TO A DEAD POET
Are
the flowers as beautiful
The
night sky still as radiant
Is
beauty still a feral impulse
That
can titillate your senses
Retrieve
memories long dead
Talk
passionately about a soul
Can
one’s love of one survive
Still
thrilling the lover’s heart
Or
is it just a darken wasteland
Around
your unearthly abode
Without
a need for expression
Or
interpretation of life’s truths
Maybe
it’s not all what I envision
Instead
you sit close to the light
Beneath
a shady grove of trees
And
I have caught you just now
Putting
down your pen and paper
To
admire an enticing bit of verse
THE
WITCHES OF NORTH HAVEN
A
dozen old pines
Standing
very erect
Thirty
feet or more
Prickly
hairy limbs
Seen
thru my pane
Reaching
out to me
Or
excitedly waving
To
get my attention
No
guardian Angels
This
witch’s brew
Who
often lash out
Inside
stormy spells
Then
turn Statuesque
As
if only onlookers
Intent
on a good view
At
the Tyburn gallows
I
have been noticing
In
circular formations
Clusters
of mushrooms
On
pine needle beds
With
ancient markings
Formed
by pine cones
That
could only arise
As
a gesture of sorts
Yet
they still fascinate
Give
credence to tales
Hinted
to by neighbors
Town
gossip they say
Those
potent specters
Inhabit
the grounds
Witches
of old roots
Seeded
in dark times
Poet Bio
The road began for L E Barrett in Hallowell, Maine. It has
taken him several times around the world. He grew up in a small Maine river
city. At a young age, he enlisted in the Marines and served in Vietnam. He
eventually had both a military and senior level government career. He is the
father of three sons. He received a Bachelor’s Degree from Northeastern
University in Boston, MA and a Masters Degree from the University of Maine in
Orono, ME. All along the road, he wrote, he thought, and he wrote some more and
more. So that before his days drain away, he will have said what he came here
to say! He currently has three books in print (A View From The Side Of The
Road, The Maine Poetic and The Shadow Of The Soul) and can be found on Amazon
or Kindle and listed on his Facebook page.
Website: http://lebarrett.com/
Books:
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