Through These Corridors – Author June Barefield


Where the Christ Himself scuffed up His knees

His shadow now pushed up against walls once deemed impenetrable

Gliding gracefully through the ghost of change for change with such ease

And free of pain

Where dreams have name tags pinned on fat back flies with gluey white eyes

Nursing grievances and whiskey, projecting the lie through a smile beguiled

Enclosed in silence

Where life sized crucifixes transfix empty, infantile, reptilian mind-states

Symmetrically postured

Putrid & dank

Imposing some announcement artificially memorialized

Apposing only goodness

Profanity oozing from under every single door


And no one is passed over.


Through these corridors

There’s a National crisis amongst the damned

A life hereafter is spoken on, but no one believes it, really

From the bottom up blinded to everything but want & desire

For plundered pockets and dignity

Plastic cards & bank notes

Cut throat in turn coat and starched shirts

Fucking one-another

All impersonally conceived, mounted like false teeth,

green with the envy that Babylon- The “New Babylon”

has achieved


Into the nostrils death breathed the lie of life into an already dead being



Through these corridors

Mongrels and whores

Vagabonds and rapists

Saints for Satan control this monetary enslavement

Citizens are patients


Like a soft dick sliding out of a must & damp trap tricked

Docile little vermin again, waltzing with the mice, nibbling at dangling bits and pieces of humiliation, slaver pouring from off of lips

Life sized crucifixes transfixing empty, infantile, reptilian mind-states

Where The Christ Himself once scuffed up his knees.

Through these corridors

Death speaks.


© June Barefield

Excerpt form the book “Divided Lines – A Poet’s Stance”

Available on for $12.95

Check out our Submissions Page for future Anthology Publishing opportunities at:

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Divided Lines

Foreword . . .

In a world of ever increasing advances seemingly created to make our lives easier to manage, envisioned to bring us together, to draw us closer, we are still in many instances isolated and at odds and validly apart. Something is missing, there is a snag, a rip, a hole in the spiritual fabric that we all see; yet we continue to fail to address.

 It has been said by self-proclaimed philosophers, theologians, scholars’ and politicians that the abuse of words can be a danger, there are those that believe words are a leading factor in what ills our society. Of this we do not deny in full, there have been abuses, history is but a melody to that fact, yet it is also true that words have the innate capacity to bridge, to heal that which divides.

 Opinions, views, religions, nations, people, even love divides. The focus of this book and the poets here in, is to give breath to a wide range of issues both small and controversial that lie beneath the surface. Things that we are often hesitant to discuss. In saying that, I will offer that the role of a poet is not to persuade or to add more rhetoric to the static we hear. A poet’s responsibility is to shine the light of awareness, to create a platform for dialogue, for healing, to gather up the images in an attempt to understand what we see.

Demitri Tyler, Author

Now Available at:

100% of all proceeds from this book are being donated to the “Starving Artist Fund” to assist writers in becoming published authors. Purchasing this book can help a writer become a published author!

Categories: Anthology

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