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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  5/25/2016 3:49:45 PM
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Bad Alcoholic Dream

Boarding the airplane,
I walked right by the bar.
The aroma of spent draft,
Jack Daniel's whistling thru the air.

Still shaken, I took my seat.
The stewardess took my order.
A business lady, seated next to me.
Gave her order to the stewardess.

She brought back my coke and ice.
She brought the lady beside me,
An assortment of small liquors,
Lady! there's your handbag.

Stuff three or four in the bag! Now!
She took only one, and poured it.
It sat there in isolation, saying drink me!
The business lady, took one sip.

Approaching Atlanta, I was in a frenzy!
The stewardess came by and what?
The business lady poured out her drink!
Catching my breath, such a waste of good liquor!
Barry A. Lanier



Balienated Affection

Affection, a tender feeling toward another,
Fondness, a propensity to feel, to do, to say
Knowing all of this I have considered affection
You know how my St.Charles Spaniel cuddles

Looks at me with those with those big brown eyes
Licks my arms and snuggles against my breast
A genuine look of 'please hold me close'
Yes, indeed I tried this.....and she went to bed
Barry A. Lanier




I miss her so much

I still cook meals for two

Always two plate settings

A red rose on her plate

Unless we are talking

Just me and the silence

That surrounds me

I place the dishes in the sink

Lying to myself

'I'll wash them later'
Barry A. Lanier



Bamber Rage

Laughter retreats in the face of my grief,
Repulsive scent, like charred human remains.
Clinging to the damp stone walls of my chamber,
I found your rage..and still live in it, too-
Inside of an empty amber bottle.

Alone with you, on the floor beside my bed,
Your form refracting what should be,
Beautiful morning sunlight.
Unbidden guest, you come, then go.
Your slow, devious, embalming,
Torturing so slow.

I am the proof, and I am the error,
Wallowing in your engulfing fury forever.
Manufacturing doubt with your offered toast,
At least to your conquered, harboring host.
I am the proof, and I am the error.

No more solace in your liquid dreams,
No more romance, in your embrace it seems.
His will not mine, to let you go.
Pray never again your rage,
I'll ever know.
Barry A. Lanier
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier