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.

Saturday, October 29, 2022



In my lonely rooms

A song on the radio

Reminds me of you

And how the silence grew

The pain is beyond me

As it stares from all corners

Of where I am today

It won't be long

And I'll put it aside

Like I did with alcohol

The memory of you

Came on strong today

Brought on by music

I won't stop listening

Just that tune less and less

To the time when I won't hear

My present to me also came

After realization I'm not included

I knew it in depth

Then that view of a list

How it all goes 

Quickly or painfully slow

Every day I review

All your faces and

How I hurt my list

I'm awake

In these lonely rooms

As I deal with the wreckage

Of halcyon days

I float here like the bird

That charms the waves

Into calm

All these waves will soon

Be still

Nothing will be said

Nothing will matter

Exactly what I created

With my nest

On a rocking ocean

A list full of wrongs

Like notes that return

At the first musical measures

Barry G. Wick

Wednesday, October 26, 2022



A bud has made a thud
It's fall again
When oh when
Will I elope with spring
To sing my hope and then
Ring the bell
Oh hell soon winter
Will disinter my blue face
An always pent-up thing
Bent on places green
To tell the world I've seen
Ropes of tangled leaves
That race from ground to sky
To try the sun's most precious light

Barry G. Wick

Sunday, October 16, 2022

Passing Out

Passing Out

I am dead now
But I still breathe
It's an addiction for which
There's no group
No weighty book
To give strength and tips
On how live with death
I chat with friends
Watch their stories
Stay connected 
From my dead world
To their lives
This isn't ghosthood
Though close
My grave still makes
The sound of dishes 
As they are raked
By the arm that rotates
With pressured water
There is a buzz 
of a finished wash
For my shroud
It won't load itself 
Into the dryer
In Egypt the dead lay
Out to dry
My coffin needs a vacuum
The dust on the furniture
Is the dirt on my grave
There are no tears yet
I'll hold my breath
For them to start
Would that fool you?
I feel light headed

Barry G. Wick