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Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: rikwrybac@yahoo.com. The government doesn't read my poetry. You do. Out of over 400 poems here on this blog by me, I hope you find one or more you like. Thank you for my readers. Thank you for your comments.

Thursday, June 1, 2023

[Poem]

[Poem]

A new cloud
Imagines me
Laying upon a changing ground
I change my shape so often
I forget what animal I am
Or I'm created in chains
Of wisps of vapor
Colored by emotions
I no longer understand

To roll in this muddy life
Gives the changing sky
Dreams that fall away
I am sleeping 
Hoping to awaken
In a new belief
A new set of unruly pictures
Sliding around on glass

Barry G. Wick



Tuesday, May 30, 2023

Sad People

Sad people

I've begun to see
The images presented
As if I belonged here
With sad poets in old pictures.
The downturned mouth,
The eyes on the edge of blank,
From another time.
He looked like I could know him
But we're a hundred years ago
And I'm now wherever and whenever
That is.  That is.
My father described the kind of man
That I am.
The picture of my old love was sad.
Am I sad?
Only because I see
What others can't see.
I'm not special.
The illusions.  Every illusion.
It's almost as if
Well that won't work.
These are just words.
I'm lost in them.
Green gray blue red.
Impossible.

 Barry G. Wick


Sunday, May 21, 2023

Risk

Risk

It's a board game played
To give common people
A sense of power
Once only available
To kings and generals
Who saw that taking
Land and people brought
Great wealth and power

Every man becomes a king
When he is loved
by another
Love is the greatest risk

My country pieces
Have been removed
From the world map
I am now an unloved
Subject
A subject eats cheap hotdogs
Letting them fry in a small pan
The heat makes them pop
As they turn themselves
When a side becomes
Blistered and burned

Burned blisters come
from battles
In Risk

Barry G. Wick

Monday, May 8, 2023

(poem)

Few will understand me
Or remember me
Hate or love me
In as short as twenty years
Or even yesterday
Will you buy my perspective today?
I thought not
At the least I offered
What does anyone expect for free
The cost to each of us gives value
I've lost everything
So I must be rich

Barry G. Wick, part of 500 poems written by this author at https://agereasonmistake.blogspot.com

Sunday, May 7, 2023

(poem)

Here is your daily dose of throwaway 
art
Here is your daily dose of throwaway Music
Here is your daily dose of throwaway Words
Here is your daily dose of throwaway
Sex
Here is your daily dose of throwaway
People
It's all headed for Mars and faraway
Stars
The oceans are filling with plastic
Ain't that fantastic
They come from a planet you can't
Pronounce only known by the ounce
Stuff me in your rectum play me with your
Plectrum
It's all a loss so says the boss now make
My eyes gloss with sphagnum moss
Holy roly poly Renato Podjoli
Fizzle me twizell gisele me bizzell
Modgrobble me bobble ubgobble yer tobble

Barry G. Wick
Https://agereasonmistake.blogspot.com

   


Thursday, May 4, 2023

[poem]

Your last breaths seemed painful to me
I am certain of your last thoughts
As mine may be the same as I say good-bye to the world of pain I created

Speaking to you like Neruda speaks
To his mother would not be possible
I am tired beyond those black years
When I constantly cared for you

I did tell you I loved you as I put
My flabby arm around you that you
Could not put around me like your sister
Who showed me affection I missed

Your mother's words came to me
In missed caresses as you explained
Her cold Norwegian upbringing 
And the distance between you and her

What did you get from her in those
Years of vocalizing in Dakota's enclaves
As I remember her in her last year's
I felt little warmth in my failed heart

These vacancies have passed down
To my children and to me doubly
In these years of distance and emptiness
That have been left to me unpolished

Barry G. Wick





Wednesday, April 19, 2023

Parade of Kings

Parade of Kings

Out with the garbage
To the bin on the porch
Sit down in my walker
Slight cool on my skin
One then two gray squirrels 
Chase on the open street
In front of my home
A dozen or more tails
Round about a white car
Up on the tires or tailpipe
I think of the shooters
In Merry Ol' England
Entertaining by video
The viewers with death
Of these joyous creatures
Perhaps they damage
But where I wonder
The corn is not planted
No beans in small pods
So chase as they must
Play on my street
I am content to watch
More than I've ever seen
Tomorrow I'll take some
Nuts from my freezer
Try coaxing them up 
To where I sit in cool air
The years on my brow
Squirrels reign on my street

Barry G. Wick

Monday, March 27, 2023

Conundrum

Conundrum

The Buddhist chef says
"When you wash the rice,
Wash the rice."
Mindfulness of task.
I brush my teeth
In a mindful way.
My nose says "Hold on!
I'm dripping now. Mindful this."
No, I'm brushing my teeth.
"I'll drip through your mustache
And into your mouth," it says.
What can I do? I'm brushing.
"Mindful of my needs, please."

Throughout my day
Nose interrupts.
Obviously nose hates
A student Buddhist
Who hates nose.

Hate does not appear
In the Buddhist student handbook.

Barry G. Wick


Saturday, March 25, 2023

A Memory

A Memory

This morning colder as I sit
At an old plastic sink
Brushing my graying hair
The man in the mirror
Looks at strands in a comb
Pulled from his thinning head
Across the room a radio
Plays a piano trio
Adding to the age
Of the moment
Someone listens to hip hop
They don't miss or know
This piece from an olden time
Just as I don't know theirs
Now there begins a sweet thought
Given to the time of day
A change in the eyes annouces
Both at the same time
Just minutes from the dreams 
Reflections meet each other
In a tear of a better past
That happens more in these days


Barry G. Wick