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)

Follow by Email

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Darkness at the Edges

There is darkness at the edges
just night that removes colors
without permission
automatic deception
after daylight
before the morning refreshes
all the important thoughts
I am not depressed
I am just dull
and not able to keep
an interest in myself
at this hour
I know the sky
is packing sunlight
into empty suitcases
for a trip around the world
The sky and the air
that surrounds us
is an illegal immigrant
without a passport
unable to do any
reasonable work
except to provide us
with air to breathe
and protection
from the emptiness
of unconquerable space
So there is an opportunity
to let it fill out the paperwork
we so desperately require
The questions we have
on our forms
are not given enough paper
to answer
unless we allow
the answers written on atoms
even then
we aren't willing to learn
the language it speaks
we try oh yes
our mismatched intentions
are similar
to giving a tuba
to Thelonious Monk
which I have no doubt
upon which he could
make some kind of music
The question
on a high numbered line
might be
would it be his best music
With that I've run out
of space to provide answers
to anything important
The sky and its unpacking
the light of day
have me seeking
a dark closet or empty drawer
for a gas-filled mind
waiting in the spark of light

Barry G. Wick

Post a Comment