Summer Haiku

Boxes of thunder

hiding cats with flashing eyes

mouse hunts in storm skies

Barry G. Wick

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

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

War

that ends with no winner

with broken bodies and minds

everywhere

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

Salesman

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

ever

Don't expect this game

to involve just products

It may be ideas

concepts and philosophies

Some are just nasty

Groceries

some people starve

while the vultures

get fat

The vultures are

not always birds

in this game

Some groceries

have been intentionally

or unintentionally

poisoned

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

Loneliness

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

Lust

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

Loincloth

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

Acquisition

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

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

Morning Becomes Electric

There is texture

in the first light

as if god

has yet to wipe

away the sleep

of night

that forms

a spider-raised web

Bird song thunders

Even the sky yawns

stirring the trees enough

to pretend they shake away

their dreams of travel

They are the only ones

consistently aware

of the journey

through the stars

Corn creaks and

Beans fatten

in the mirrors of dew

We want to believe

all is right with the world

only to turn on the news

which completely

fucks up the morning

Barry G. Wick

July Haiku

The summer flies by

through tall weeds on the road side

with little cat wings

Barry G. Wick

The Dementia National Anthem

In a dream with my Mother

She's being secretive

by not telling me

where she wants to go

Finally I tell her

that if she doesn't tell me

I'll have to take her

to the hospital

since I'm the person

who takes her everywhere

She wants to go

to Custer, South Dakota

Why I ask

because the Rockefellers

Do you know any I ask

I wake up in the dream

from the dream

to tell everybody

about the dream

from which I just awakened

I then wake up

to think about the times

Mother fell or fought with me

about the time she called

the Sheriff

because she didn't know me

When the deputy arrives

she becomes the perfect hostess

all forgotten

why he was called

I sat with her for ten years

to keep her from wandering

I carry her dementia

around my waist

and in my mind

until the days

I'll no longer remember

who cares for me and why

There is no Olympic event

for caretakers

No medals

of gold silver or bronze

even from family

We are weightlifters

standing on the dark podium

in an empty stadium

on a cold starless night

holding a bunch

of crumbling flowers

watching an instant playback

of our victory

our great moment of success

that replays

the months and years

of our preparation

for this moment

described by an announcer

who doesn't know

where she is

who she is

what's happening

or why

Rockefellers go to Custer

Barry G. Wick

The Valley of Time

Here we've come

to the valley of time

The river never floods

unless we attempt

to remember

where we put our keys

It's then it becomes

The Box Canyon of Time

If we lost our glasses

it becomes

The Grand Canyon of Time

...at night

and the river

is full of

ferocious magazine racks

escaped ottomans

and cold-blooded Legos

If we're drunk

crawling into our home

it becomes

The Mariana's Trench of Time

full of those weird fish

with the lighted lures

and big teeth

Those teeth are actually

the steps up to our bedroom

where upon we fall

into the gaping maw of sleep

Maws always gape

If one is trying

to discuss the finances

of a relationship

and why one cannot

buy a set of tools

or a new Brazilian Bikini

it becomes

the Black Hole of Time

A big one sucking up the universe

followed by

make-up sex of the universe

Now that we've discussed

this topic from

its logical beginning

Do attempt to avoid

this type of poem

because they are

The Potholes of Time

and you've just blown

The Tire of Time

Barry G. Wick

Planetary Experiments

This planet thinks

So many organisms failed

before we were here

Earth is trying us out

for thousands of years

in order to see

if we're capable

of sustaining ourselves

and the life it gave us

So far

to help us live in this world

we've chosen the industries

of death

It's giving us one last chance

to get it right

or

it will drown us

poison us

blow us away

shake our foundations

burn us or freeze us

and otherwise

make a hell

some religions believe exists

in order to advance

some other beings

it may have already created

Trees could be

the smartest beings

on the planet

They don't move

as often as we do

Imagine

a tree building

its house out of people

but don't repeat that

or it might happen

Barry G. Wick