Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 370 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like.

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Sunday, September 8, 2019



A Sunday at the typer

In a quick store

Watching shoppers come in

And go out

Thinking of where

I should go next

In a dream or with the wheels

This isn't the norm for me

Idle in public or indecisive

Even at home I'm active

Doing nothing

There is wind today

A chance of rain

I'll let the moving air

Direct me to a baptism

Sure of no belief at all

Aimless as this galaxy

Pointless as this universe

Controlled by god

With his explosive finger

Please don't pull it

It smells bad enough

As it is

Barry G. Wick

Friday, August 23, 2019


Cephissus and Liriope
Were really hot for each other
Liriope had a thing for river gods
Cephissus had a thing for nymphs
They did it on the shore
Of still waters

Liriope was knocked up
And had a kid they named

His parents thought he looked
Too hot for his clothes

So he took them off
To go sit by the still waters
Looking at his reflection
Until a fish splashed his face
He got bored with that

Asking his parents for an iPhone
Nope no way
We don't have Zeus pockets kid

Narcissus went out and found
A sugar daddy who fondled him
Bought him an iPhone
Whereupon he's been standing
In front of a mirror applying make-up
For 3,984
Of the last 4,000 years
Looking at himself
Posting selfies
Covered in layers of Max Factor
He applies with a trowel

Hey kid, you look mah-vel-ous
You really do
(I don't have the heart to point out
His wrinkles)

Barry G. Wick

Poem of summer 2019

Poem of Summer 2019

Argue these auspiciously
Regulate suspiciously
This pot is stirred
My life is blurred
Nothing's meant maliciously

Barry G. Wick

Friday, August 16, 2019

(Haiku Stream)

(Haiku stream)

Fingering my way
Through a keyboard alphabet
Phone words save big trees

Somewhere squirrels play
Unaware we have saved trees
To save life for all

Heating our planet
At a frightening death rate
Cars boil oil

Only we can know
What we daily do to earth
Destruction's our way

At work or at play
We file our plastic waste
The water trash bin

Belching smoke still reigns
Despite an earth awareness
We know smoking kills

Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, August 14, 2019


Flying on a dream

Falling in love

With an arm around someone

Who pushes me away

To later see them talking

To someone else

Even in my dreams

I am rejected

My question becomes

Wondering if this is karma

Or me rejecting myself

Waking to sadness

The dream holds me

When no one will

Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, August 7, 2019


A small light creates shadows
In the dark of my night
Awake as an old man
Traffic is heard 
as it bumps over bridges
Tires sing their Doppler song
I touch my leg
In a wish for your hand
And soft voice that asks
if I'm alright as I return to bed
You're not there
You have never touched me
You are a dream for me
That speeds through the night
To take your love
Far away from a small light
Which dims in my heart
Never to have met you

Barry G. Wick

Tuesday, August 6, 2019



        Drops of last night's rain

           Remain upon the window

     Their tiny magnifications

        Slowly drying

     The eyes of the dead

        Upon cement

        Their last vision

             Revealed by hate

          Barry G. Wick

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

The Bore-a poem

The Bore-a poem

The bore had one or both parents
and relatives
who could talk on for hours
about the most meaningless things
forcing those around the bore
to either fall mentally asleep
or wishing they could leave
since the bore knows how to capture
the audience in a corner
or behind a desk

The bore never knows when to

Barry G. Wick

Sunday, July 28, 2019

Spinning Blades

Cutting the air above 
The spinning blades of a fan
Air stirred causes the hair
On wrinkled arms 
To slightly move
Small trees in a storm
That will not flag
Like the ponderosas
I saw on the hill
Above my childhood home
And yet
My branches move away
From the direction of all winds
Which tells me
The long quiet is coming
My bark shall fall from branches
Split by gales that have me
At their mercy
To where it will nourish the sod
All these reminders
From a cooling breeze
Inside on a hot day

Barry G. Wick

Sunday, June 23, 2019

Split Thought

Split Thought

A fingernail is rough
To my right a large pill bottle
now filled with what
is useful and useless
small scissors
letter opener
small bandages
pink and green paper clips
an old key
several metal fingernail files
All inherited from my mother
I retrieve a file
thinking about her
sitting on a flowered loveseat
using this
beside the bay window
looking up the hill at The Rock

I wonder how far
through the family
these items will travel
All this just rattles in my head
as bits of my nail
fall to the carpet
becoming the dust of the world
along with the lives
that fully explain
memory of yesterday
Imaginations of tomorrow
And the mystery of today

Barry G. Wick