Barry A. Lanier Poems

You ladies often
Write with your passion
And for most times
Writing with due cause
...

I don't know what this is all about.
when you start turning fifty?
Lying in bed at night to rest, yet
lately all I do is inspect myself.
...

When shall I learn how to love?
Love for love, and moment's sweet
Breath to breast, when eyes meet
In a paradise, yet so deep
...

Let me tell you of pain
Cuts and bruises of ego
Slashes and cinew of mind
Fashioned of our own clay
...

Long intractable discourses
Of interminable verse
Longenial, veliated strings
Of compost
...

Forever chained
To barren lands
Hostile winds
Of ignorance and fear
...

As I spied this lonely caterpillar
Oh, so juicy, and natural green
Wondering if he ever pondered
Where he fit in the scheme of things
...

Never underestimate her abode
Yes her castle
A princess or queen she may be not
But the man who forgets
...