Thank you to those who support me via my Paypal account: 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.

Wednesday, August 30, 2017

Summer Haiku

Boxes of thunder
hiding cats with flashing eyes
mouse hunts in storm skies

Barry G. Wick

Sunday, August 27, 2017

The New Playground---(from a poem written circa 1991-1993)

41 nearer to 42
shouldn't it be a time of riches
life begins at
and such, oh my how we dream
instead of-watching, waiting,
active verbs
do, jump, take, glow, bake.
Every thought is past, was,
saw the, had the, been the, write the.
Future is barely tomorrow
and mostly today
full of its forwarding-time-expireds
and envelopes of unseen cause words.

All becomes regret on the wrong
waterbed sheets in the drier
coin-op yearnings of pianos
and muted trumpets
sack the drummer and get a driver.

nails takin' on the look of fear
with thin edges and yellow stain
above the canyons above the keys
to underlocked doors behind secrets
in the hallway to see-through stairs
and chance harumphs or 'llos
from ghostbers, on Ron with a set
of polished treads that wax he sees
on Amazing something burns the flame
not the finish.

Ha'ld a zillion seconds of potry
ago with Inkpen, Sharat, Dennis clayman,
gists of words inside me like
cavemen eat lunch at the diner in my head
and somesuch gone now
into unemployment checks and angry daughters
on the phone with 700 Club boyfriends
who turn queer dads into the new jigaboos.

Yeah, that's it, resolution of solos
to theses with illogical endings filled
with 9ths and 11ths and fading to silence.

Barry G. Wick

a poem written circa 1992 or 1993

Friday, August 25, 2017

Toys and Games

After a night of fiddling
with a brain
we wake up
Good morning
it's time to play
another day of games
Some of the games
are cruel
We might be someone's toy
It's hard telling

that ends with no winner
with broken bodies and minds
This is an especially important
game for the United States
that has hundreds
of military installations worldwide
where men and women
wait for someone with a brown body
or a sane thought
to step out of line
inside the borders of a nation
where the United States wants
to distribute bibles
and pamphlets on the correct
form of government
that would be acceptable
to the President and Congress
Naturally some of the citizens
of the United States
don't like paying for these activities
or oppose them outright
Sovereignty is a word
being removed from American books

that's a game
where everybody
sticks their snouts
in the trough
It's war for the greedy
The best players
will steal
and nobody will notice
Don't expect this game
to involve just products
It may be ideas
concepts and philosophies
Some are just nasty

some people starve
while the vultures
get fat
The vultures are
not always birds
in this game
Some groceries
have been intentionally
or unintentionally
The United States Congress
is hoping to starve
many of its own citizens
in favor of feeding countries
and the nation's wealthiest citizens
the Congress favors
because of under the table payments
to many Members of Congress
After all
who needs old and poor people
Just remember if you fall
into one of these categories
that you are a toy
Be prepared to be thoroughly shaken
and abused by the children and animals
within your circle
You are a Velveteen Rabbit
made of sackcloth and filled with ashes

this game is primarily
for old people
who have been forgotten
at the edge of families
there are some variations
however it always
ends the same
full of pain
alone in a bed
more often than not
surrounded by nobody
and the fun thing about this game
is that it doesn't matter
if there are none or thousands
surrounding the bed
the game ends
with no winners
Even the ones who
get everything from the will
They might even be the ones
who are worse off
than the principle player

Love is a terrible game
full of deceit
and you thought death
was painful
Falling in love with someone
seems pleasant on the surface
except it is falling
Falling always feels wonderful
until one hits that towards which
one is falling
It is often something hard
and capable of inflicting
bodily and mental harm

It's rarely out in the open
because lust is generally
in game we play with ourselves
never letting the object
of our lust know
that we lust for them
An open game of lust
usually leads to charges
or firing from a job
where the rules
have been broken
Lust between
those who consent
can lead to disrespect
We'll get back to you
on this one

This is a game for people
who desire closets full of clothes
That's right
It's named
for the simplest article
of clothing invented
by men and women
who never would own one
and who could open
a clothing store from what's
in their closets
sometimes the tags are still
on the clothes
from purchases made years back
The opposite of these players
are the naked sadhus
who attend Kumbh Mela
every twelve years
near the Ganges River
in India
Many don't seem to own
any clothing including loincloths
except a coating of ash
Twenty thousand marching
naked sadhus
The thought of this
has the employees and management
of Bergdorf Goodman puking
on the next rag you buy from them
If you own an actual loincloth
you have won the side game
This poet has a number of them
and plays this side game very well
It is too much information
but he is wearing a loincloth
while typing these words
Save yourself
Just visualize his mother
His mother won
the international championship
and never owned an actual loincloth
The poet is far humbler than his mother
This statement will receive chortles
from some of his friends

is a game played by many people
in the world
One must own everything
they can get their hands upon
The crying of a newborn
signals the parents
that the child is ready to play
this standard game
You'll find complete rules
on page one of your game guide
available by sending this poet
ten dollars via his PayPal account
Send twenty dollars
and he might even send it to you
but as with all games there are
no guarantees you'll actually
receive the promised finish
of the games themselves
If you never receive a copy
of the rules of these games
don't fret
This poet is merely playing
what he learned when exploring the rules
of the game Salesman
You must work for some very shady bosses
and co-workers
in order to fully realize the complete rules
of this game

These are just some of the games
being played in your neighborhood
There are others
You will have to discover them
for yourselves
since you haven't sent your twenty dollars
as yet

Barry G. Wick

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

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

Empty Light

As summer closes
firefly embrace escapes yards
their cool light drains

Sane reality
drops away from the people
who march without peace

Torch flame is empty
without care of any kind
bring back love flashes

Barry G. Wick