The Other in Flames

“I am the way, the truth and the life.”
Yeshua as transcribed by someone now called John.

The Other in Flames


There is always some teacher
some guru
some self who thinks
in a twisted way
to find the moment of your weakness
when you will accept what is outside
inside of you
and they never let you go

It is the gesture of their hand
their counting of fingers
their conversation for which you paid
their love their friendship their manner
that spark of what they are
and as you uncover your layers
they scale your walls
that protect the nuggets of soul
you are already

You are your own traitor
who walks away from the wooden horse
to sleep under the common moon
who thinks we are all the same
under layers of skin the soul
one and unending
wake up and burn it now
for the soldier chisels his way out
to kill you in your sleep

And what of mothers and professors
who clutch at you with their scowls
their spanking thoughts revealed
when all the time their goal
in not the same
as what you know inside
of what you are
separate alone with yourself
in silence and perfect
without these words
you should throw away


Copyright © 2011 by Barry G. Wick

The Silent Wave

In the great need for silence
the sound of water
low and high tones
in its race across stones
that bump and thump
in the dark night.
And the voices that sometimes
speak from the curls and eddy
a stray line of remembrance
some phrase from the past
as if someone is really speaking
and you think
you've heard a voice
when it's only water
it's holy movements
speaking of past lives
telling us of the people
who played in it's reflections
stared as it passed them on a shore
on the edge of it universe of cycles
the waves of water that wash over death
the pounds of water that smooth rock to sand
and soon it all becomes
a blur in the background
a constant drone of submergence
the play of drum, string and voice
horns of drops and slides of invisible bones
down which we travel to a forgiving sea
sometime in our future sometime
as it all goes away through
valleys and canyons
stripping the flesh
from this loving earth
from this lonely imperfect body


Copyright © 2011 by Barry G. Wick