I now have one regular patron who sends a monthly contribution to keep this poet alive. Yes, per usual, I'm a poor poet...and for some reason I'm a poor poet in its many meanings...but someone like my patron loves my work. If you become a sustaining patron I can guarantee you'll see writing from me on a regular basis. I do edit my mad. But I don't always hit it out of the park. At least my patrons have a chance to select from all my work...and they become the editors rather than the small-minded who often edit magazines and journals. Poet James Wright,one of his last books, held by two editors for the longest time that his wife Anne took to another publisher who snapped it up and it became a huge success. Now I don't have people like Robert Bly, Don Hall, or their equals I can send my poems to for a review before I put them on the internet or send to any publisher. I believe in opening up my "horde" for the world to critique or love. And it's expensive to send out my work, getting only rejection, so it's money I don't have for food, or the electric bill. Please send what you can via my email: via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.


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)

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Monday, November 4, 2013

Not a Prayer as Such

Do you see me in the sky
I am on the ground
trying to catch your eye
I'll wave my arms
and scream a lot
but I wonder if your angels
are against my plot
to just talk to you
to get your advice
on what to do next
and pay the price
for all my foolish ways
and goofy days
when I was human
and quite perplexed
I can't call you god
or some other name
because from those
you've taken blame
for all the bad things
on this earth
and while I nod
and poke the air
in hopes that you are there
I've grown to believe
you might not care
even just a little
or a jot and a tittle
So it goes
my invisible friend
I've run out of ways
to get you to attend
to the chores
you once were famous for
creation and all it's glory
I'm fairly certain my simple problems
can't be cured
if you just hear my story
Back to your room
as magnificent it might be
but I suspect
you are as gloomy as I
with all your creation here
that's never correct
and from what this stems
we suffer we cry we cannot act
so where you live
is as dark and dreary
as what I'm assured surrounds me
So there I said what I've felt
blurred and bleary-eyed
dry of all the tears
I once shed
and if you heard this soul
turned toward me or not
I got it off my chest
the rest is just the same old thread
you hear most every day
from folks like me
the lesser of the tribes
you put to wander here

Copyright © 2013 by Barry G. Wick

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