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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Monday, December 5, 2016

Generation

I read my parents' letters
in the light of an oil lamp
that flutters in the evening breeze.
The words cast shadows unexpectedly
over the years back to my mid-teens
when everything I spoke
hurt them as deeply
as my own child
now breaks my illusions.

When just the breath is heard
raking across the tightening walls
of my chest,
all things separate from me
and become the paper-thin seascape
of it:
only the one needed hug
or hand held in this growth
of final silences.

Perhaps the shaken sense I have
of the letters in each word
is not advancing age,
but the apprehension
in their own thoughts
wandering through a mined land
I once planted for them.


Barry G. Wick
written possibly in the late 1980s
unknown date
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