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Thursday, June 29, 2017

The Dementia National Anthem

In a dream with my Mother
She's being secretive
by not telling me
where she wants to go
Finally I tell her
that if she doesn't tell me
I'll have to take her
to the hospital
since I'm the person
who takes her everywhere
She wants to go
to Custer, South Dakota
Why I ask
because the Rockefellers
Do you know any I ask

I wake up in the dream
from the dream
to tell everybody
about the dream
from which I just awakened
I then wake up
to think about the times
Mother fell or fought with me
about the time she called
the Sheriff
because she didn't know me
When the deputy arrives
she becomes the perfect hostess
all forgotten
why he was called

I sat with her for ten years
to keep her from wandering
I carry her dementia
around my waist
and in my mind
until the days
I'll no longer remember
who cares for me and why

There is no Olympic event
for caretakers
No medals
of gold silver or bronze
even from family
We are weightlifters
standing on the dark podium
in an empty stadium
on a cold starless night
holding a bunch
of crumbling flowers
watching an instant playback
of our victory
our great moment of success
that replays
the months and years
of our preparation
for this moment
described by an announcer
who doesn't know
where she is
who she is
what's happening
or why
Rockefellers go to Custer



Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

The Valley of Time

Here we've come
to the valley of time
The river never floods
unless we attempt
to remember
where we put our keys
It's then it becomes
The Box Canyon of Time

If we lost our glasses
it becomes
The Grand Canyon of Time
...at night
and the river
is full of
ferocious magazine racks
escaped ottomans
and cold-blooded Legos

If we're drunk
crawling into our home
it becomes
The Mariana's Trench of Time
full of those weird fish
with the lighted lures
and big teeth
Those teeth are actually
the steps up to our bedroom
where upon we fall
into the gaping maw of sleep
Maws always gape

If one is trying
to discuss the finances
of a relationship
and why one cannot
buy a set of tools
or a new Brazilian Bikini
it becomes
the Black Hole of Time
A big one sucking up the universe
followed by
make-up sex of the universe

Now that we've discussed
this topic from
its logical beginning
Do attempt to avoid
this type of poem
because they are
The Potholes of Time
and you've just blown
The Tire of Time


Barry G. Wick





Monday, June 26, 2017

Planetary Experiments

This planet thinks

So many organisms failed
before we were here
Earth is trying us out
for thousands of years
in order to see
if we're capable
of sustaining ourselves
and the life it gave us

So far
to help us live in this world
we've chosen the industries
of death

It's giving us one last chance
to get it right
or
it will drown us
poison us
blow us away
shake our foundations
burn us or freeze us
and otherwise
make a hell
some religions believe exists
in order to advance
some other beings
it may have already created

Trees could be
the smartest beings
on the planet
They don't move
as often as we do
Imagine
a tree building
its house out of people
but don't repeat that
or it might happen


Barry G. Wick



Sunday, June 18, 2017

Reflections on Father's Day


sometimes we know
as men
as fathers
that we could have
been better at our jobs

the longer we live
the more we are
confronted by memory
filled with images
of a distant
and unchanging past

there are never regrets
to entertain our failures
minutes upon hours
hours upon days
days upon months
months upon years
a tower of imagined
what ifs

Beyond those heights
of hardened time
thick glass mirrors
clouded with
dried tear drops
wiped away to reveal
wrinkled faces
we believe
this is how life
has always progressed
from generation to generation
that there never is a perfect
man to child relationship
only the steady ballast
of sinking ships
remembered as they floated
upright and balanced
on windy oceans


Barry G. Wick



Sunday, June 4, 2017

The Dance of Blue Curtains

Beeping fireflies
for the blind
overpower crickets
who stage a strike
with no signs
of their shocked silence

I catch your eyes again
that look for a star
at the dawn of night
in a yawn as light
passes over the lane
we follow back in time

Where are you now
little bud of new roses
that plays through this ocean
this cerulean dream
as we lean in rapture
to groan the night's overture

Hail the southern breezes
as they tickle windows
in their birth
of summer laughter
as stars plummet
through blue curtains



Barry G. Wick

The Uninhibited Life


To wake up every day
with no one's agenda
in mind
to follow one's own course
without hurting others
without hearing a no
in someone's voice
slipping through the neurons
like an electrocution
of limitation and destruction
to be a hummingbird
or a rhinoceros

By the time most of us
have reached our teenage years
so much of our creativity
is eclipsed
blackened by others
or systems designed
to plow under our new growth

Wake up! Wake up!
Design your minutes
with the colors
from your depths
Inspire yourself
to break through
the fences of flattery
the doors of deception
Be your owner
be your landlord
be your creator



Barry G. Wick