Patron

Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: rikwrybac@yahoo.com. Please consider sending one, two, three, or more dollars a month. I consider myself a "third industrial revolution" poet. My current income is just $1039.00 a month. I receive SNAP and energy assistance. I wish I didn't have to ask the government for help. The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 350 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like. It's why I'm asking you for help. Thank you if you can help me monthly.

THANK YOU!

Thank you to those who have contributed via Paypal to support my writing. My account at Paypal is the same as my email: rikwrybac(at)yahoo.com

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Saturday, November 10, 2018

First Snow

First Snow

Snow from a dark sky
upon the leaves
as their colors rot
upon unraked grass

There's no exit
until the sun's melt
starts on the porch
salted and sanded

An old movie meets
a popcorn afternoon
when butter drips
from a gray beard

Even the vampires
want a handy toothpick
as gray hands reach
to stain this sofa red

Lines drawn upon carpet
stop approaching zombies
Popcorn ball brains will
form from the next batch


Barry G. Wick

Friday, November 2, 2018

Global Something


Global Something

Warm seas send
mackerel farther north
with the tuna that follow
Man grows corn
at the poles
on domed barges
Wars for survival
will end
in the deserts of Iowa
Survival will depend
on one man in a loincloth
another in swan's down
The tilt of the world
gyrates like a die
thrown only to spin
on a corner
never to settle
on a blank side
Cheer up
When it gets to then
you'll watch bees pollinate
ceramic flowers
in museums


Barry G. Wick


No Guilt: Bits and Bobs

No Guilt:  Bits and Bobs

“Too much of a good thing can be...wonderful.  Too much of a bad thing can be even better.”---modern proverb partially attributed to actress Mae West

1.
There is no sun today
Dark clouds of all kinds
surround the measures of music
Mozart cries
dreaming of someone
named Lenny


2.
One man drinks
another eats too much
One man uses opiates
another doesn't exercise
One man throws salt
another slips and falls
One man reads a book
another writes it later

3.
Friendships begin
then end quicker
than the time it takes
to burn toast
There is a taste
of black crumbs
deeper than spitting lips

4.
Words typed as
ones and zeros
will sit in electric vaults
chipped by the cosmic rays
of Michelangelo
in search of any David

Aliens searching
a crisp earth
will find one thumb drive
filled with poetry
that will take
a thousand centuries
to decipher

e e cummings
will represent earth
onetwothreefourfive
millennia

Barry G. Wick






Monday, October 29, 2018

Wee Hours

Wee Hours

There is no sleep
when an old brain wakes
There is no dream
when the dark night breaks

Each sound spins up
when the ear grasps creaks
Each mouse ear jumps
when a wide yawn peaks

No drink will calm
when poured in a glass
No marks are made
when a scratch meets ass


Barry G. Wick

Saturday, October 27, 2018

We Bring You This Message

We Bring You This Message

The wind enjoys its command
as it is slowed by the mills
just long enough to be seen
like a bird on the sill
the small dance of fluffed feathers

We belong to the sky
as we parade on the ground
our floats gather no attention
as children creep to doors
costumed in hopeful colors

Trumpet jazz centers
a singer between the eyes
clarinet fingers
More fires blaze with smoke
a saxophone army at war

There a piston jumps
the snap of walnut seeds
Under a bridge of bones
wrinkled mayors hang
nominations cease

What are the conclusions
of a grape with no leaves
Jackalopes storm the walls
in a season full of bricks
volatile napkins cover dolls


Barry G. Wick

Monday, October 15, 2018

The Morning Sun

The Morning Sun

The morning sun peeks
above the  trees in fall colors
lower to the south

Winter chills begin
with its rude expenditures
of relentless frost

Radio talkers
moan with hidden emotion
in leaf-dry voices

Outside travels slow
with thoughtful preparation
mindful dark lengthens

Warmer socks come out
coats from the back of closets
they puff up with pride

Mice rustle at night
in search of hard won meals
evil traps readied

Stores sell snow shovels
ready new holiday lights
covered shoulders shrug 

This change demands dreams
there is a summer ahead
beyond winter's chill

Don't count these photons
useless larger numbers fly
their wings clipped at dusk 

Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Gray Leaves

Gray Leaves

My black plastic brush
with black plastic tines
topped by purple beads
needs the hair cleaned
from the puffed surface

I use a handy scissors
to lift the hair
above where it's rested
for weeks until today
as I stare out the window

October is outside
with a cool temperature
Rain has knocked leaves
to the lawn of green spears
that becomes mostly yellow

Hair now sits above
the brush as I clean it
It's a tangle of gray
that belongs to this month
as these two befriend the fall

Barry G. Wick

Monday, October 8, 2018

The Shopping List

The Shopping List--(not necessarily in order of importance)

Peace on earth
love
The Beatles come to visit
a book publisher
a better attitude
towards small poetry journals
a new paradigm
a couple of artificial knees
without all the pain
a friend who comes to visit
more money than I know
what to do with, and not
THAT much
a sunny day
a real house with a fenced back yard
for a small dog
politicians who are nice to each other
who think of the people they
represent and not the next election
motivation to tie-dye
an Indian classical music trio come to visit
for a private concert with friends
who would like it
patience with myself
time with my children and grandchildren
            and being important to them
to so something nice for distant friends
            who have been generous with me
a gathering of deeply-missed relations
            who are no long with us
a life of regret-less memories
            without mistakes and bad decisions
a concert grand piano
a giant theater organ and building to hold it
better dreams
a lack of desire for things
appreciation and gratitude for what I have
             for where I am and what I do
a much smaller shopping list
             filled with my deepest thoughts
a peaceful and pain free last day
             filled with laughter and people I love
no more lonely tears


Barry G. Wick




Saturday, October 6, 2018

Iowa Rain

Iowa Rain

A million fingers tapping on my roof
I decide to shop for groceries
when there is a roar in the store
from the ceiling
with the rain at its heaviest
After checkout
I sit at a gray bench by the door
waiting for the drops to slow
I am patient
only to decide
I don't want to wait
for myself to stop being silly
ready to enjoy the dark puddles
shiny with rippling targets

Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

The Black Cape of Fall

The Black Cape of Fall             

((remembering the good times with the devilish Bob Fraser and his beloved Bev))

The season has found a chair
at night in this room
It watches drowsily
as its air pours
through a four inch gap
on the double hung window
that normally keeps the summer
at bay with its argon-filled panes
Cool air that flows
along the ducts
has been ended
with a painful trip
down this walker-stuffed hall
to the thermostat
where electric savings
diminishes the summons
for payment that stings
a hot checkbook
with all the force
of the daubers
that circle the door

At last
he may sleep beneath blankets
to hide from the scratching
of fearful mice
who begin their assault
on this fortress
with all its snapping defenses
plus a healthy dose
from a Borgia's ring
upon something yummy
at a table of horror
for these mammalian munchers

As this villain perceives
the growth of a snore
he sets his black top hat
upon the night table
twists his mustache
one last time
before all his life-long dreams
of evicted old ladies
Pretty Polly tied to tracks
and a baby's stolen candy
begins to give a chill
that forecasts frozen rivers
where packs of red-eyed canines
with sharpened teeth
pull a sled to the next
victim of his happiness

Some unrefined pianist
embellishes each scene
on a badly tuned
upright of evil
This melodrama
proceeds beneath the eyelid of sheets
where no audience can afford
peanuts to throw

nya-ah-ah


Barry G. Wick