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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Friday, August 25, 2017

Hard Work

The sky's sweat
is a cloud.
Holding the secrets
of the universe
back from humanity
is still hard work,
despite the blue
being split by occasional
balloons, aircraft, and rocketry.
We stare through it
with our biggest eyes,
only to see it trying
to wiggle itself away
from our curiosity
and it's responsible appointment:
to keep us from discovery.
Night used to be its sweatshirt;
unwashed with the smell of fear.
Yet some of us questioned
our abilities to overcome it,
deciding the air and what's beyond
nothing but a toothless badger.
That bravado became its reason
to spit us back to the ground
until we respected the daily toil
we had not recognized.
Now that we do,
we test each others' mastery:
one with lightning,
the other with controlled fire.
Through it all
there is still more sky
than humans who want to conquer it.
Instead, fighting the neighbor
for limited ground remains,
until all realize
there's more space overhead
to protect and serve,
wasting nothing in our quest
to go beyond ourselves
into the kingdom of suns.


Barry G. Wick




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