Spencer Barker : Writing

From Flow of Fingers

From Flow of Fingers

A Poem by Spencer Barker


Love plays the keys he splays,so do the ones that come to hear him, which to stay.He glides the night,a robe of darkness through and through,though th..
A Marbled Sky

A Marbled Sky

A Poem by Spencer Barker


What lay upon,the ugly,the choices not taken.Then came sky,the blue rose across hills,greenest of grass,paved of outcrops come.A new day has become,an..
Out of Park- Billy's Awakening

Out of Park- Billy's Awakening

A Chapter by Spencer Barker


Bark! Bark!The neighbor’s dogs stood, their fence drenched in the dew of a late nights rain. Their eyes gleamed the moonlight playing upon th..
Into Neutral- A Toy It May Be

Into Neutral- A Toy It May Be

A Chapter by Spencer Barker


On his ninth birthday, Billy received out of sea blue stripped package, a rose red of a car. The enamel shined, its light covered in the smile of a ..
Into First Gear- Watch Out For Billy

Into First Gear- Watch Out For Billy

A Chapter by Spencer Barker


One hundred percent swam across the driver’s test slip, all in glossy red, just like Billy’s new car he was not aware of, yet. A grin sp..
Billy's Ride

Billy's Ride

A Book by Spencer Barker


A boy sees what he wants- a car. Now as an adult, he has it. A story is like a road trip; you drive and drive, sometimes you get there, sometimes you ..
Streams Join

Streams Join

A Poem by Spencer Barker


Trickling,what a beautiful sound, really.You must make not even a whisper to hear.-----Our hands hold,we must keep out the cold.The stream rises,dips,..
At Last

At Last

A Poem by Spencer Barker


A thrash came through,the needles of pine came,sought.The hunched over man,his necktie dangled,the water coming to his eyes.He grasped the box,handles..
A Little Girl's Story

A Little Girl's Story

A Poem by Spencer Barker


I'll be short and quick,faster than it takes a frog to lick.The story is quite sad,but for some it makes quite mad.It is your choice and yours only,bu..
Playground

Playground

A Poem by Spencer Barker


The youngest of three,which was it that would climb the tree?The softest of wind cascades,the rusting of rungs,the time and place but in strong.The re..