- By John Barnes
Displeasure Fills Your Darkened Eyes

Displeasure fills your darkened eyes and colors your stern lips.
I see you walk into the room, your slippers softly tread
The wooden floor-- my beating heart chills as a teardrop drips
Down my pale cheek and lands upon the book I read.
You come: my hopes are pinned upon the burning midday sun
Seeking freedom on soaring wings of feathers glued with wax,
But as I near the shores of Greece the gum begins to run
And I have no defense against Apollo’s swift attacks.
My father sees me faltering and tries to catch my fall
Calling, “Brave Icarus! To me!” But my frail labored wings
Are melting fast, feathers fall and my complexion palls.
Crashing into the ocean's depths, I hear my father’s screams
Of pain: to lose his only son when freedom was so close.
The hand of Neptune takes my life and sorrow is my blackened rose.
John Barnes, author of 3 books of poetry: The Desert City and Other Poems (2005), Seashell Sandy’s Dreams (2006) and A String of Pearls (2007) all on Lulu Press. His work has appeared in Minotaur, Poets at Moonspinners and Afterthoughts.