Patron

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 work...like 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: rikwrybac@yahoo.com via Paypal. I thank those who support me one way or another.

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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Tuesday, July 29, 2014

The Facebook List


Since numbers never lie, I see one number less
of friends on Facebook now, my friend page makes me stress.
You dropped me as your friend, so now it's not so fun.
We were on Facebook then, but now you've had to run.
I don't know why you left, or who in life you are,
You, a friend so distant, and now you're really far.
It seems unimportant on why you're missed  today,
I went to check and see which friend escaped my play.
And since I keep no list of who jumps ship on me,
I'll have to wonder why this memory persists.
I knew you once it seems and now you think me nuts
or maybe thought occurred to you that now I am a putz.
I'd friend you in a minute and ask you what I did
to piss you off so bad and why you now are hid.
Oh, I think, okay to leave, we knew each other long,
since you said I was friend, I chose another song.
I wish you well enough to say your flame goes on
inside this well-worn heart, your day again will dawn.
So bye for now, dear friend, you're gone from daily eyes,
I maybe saw your posts, or who you did despise.
So fair you well, old friend, I, too, must go away,
I won't be weird or mad, if you come back one day.

Barry G. Wick
(I write rhyming poetry that can easily be tossed away...on passing issues of the day...and don't care how far it spreads.  It's not my intimate, important work that is usually not rhyming.  So if you wish to share it, just please attach my name to the bottom so someday people might find my serious work.)