Barry A. Lanier Poems

Dead as a duck, how long dead is Dead as a duck? Such a
common phrase I thought. How many moons ago was that?
But my use of the words 'dead as a duck' and 'how many
moons ago' offend my grandmother, with raised eyebrows,
...

A fathers pride and childs embrace,
So easy to see, just peek at my face.
The wisdom of youth, in passing time,
From succulent grape, to withering vine.
...

One thing to strap on dynamite
In the town market acting cripple
But yet another, blowing me up
And trying to ride that last ripple
...

Gale winds wreaking havoc
She cannot always be there for him-
To unlock the chain no easy task-
Although he spoke, he could not see
...

Bumblebees
extracting nectar,
sweet and bitter,
from the center
...

Whenever my father left that morning,
Thinking he might say goodbye,
Or have a good day
...

In the folly and fantasy of youth,
Seeking out some unknown truth.
With whims of passion and desire,
Would build by night, my little fire.
...

In the midst of the night,
Surrendered my fight.
Struggling through tears,
And times long gone by.
...

If my prose,
Did not generate laughter.
Should a seed sown,
Not finally grow.
...

Wonderful friends, O' friends of mine,
In this my tragic time.
Where did they all go?
Or were they really true friends of mine?
...