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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  9/3/2014 2:01:05 AM
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Barry A. Lanier   Best Poems From
  BARRY A. LANIER
 
 
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  117.     

bFirst Blood

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

From that point on in my day,
Seemingly nothing was right,
And ruined my day.

When my friend walked away,
Playing ball at recess,
Reminding me of father.

From that point on we fought,
I may have lost,
Marveled at the volume of blood.

Ruined shirt and new pants,
Cuts and bruises,
First blood.

My blood made me proud,
Running home to mom,
Upset and concerned.

Yet I told her I liked the pain,
I wouldn't let her change my shirt,
So complete and bloody

When my father came home late
I'd show him my blood and scars
Patiently awaiting him to pass out
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  118.     

bfont color=redLiving Life With Barry II

Well, such an interesting week this one.
Having a counseling class with thirteen
women and the topic of discussion was
sex and relationships. I was like a little boy
in the candy store. I couldn't believe these
mostly younger women confessing that a guy
mentioning sex turned them off, yet size and
motion of the ocean mattered, and they all
wanted my opinion. Why, ladies of my age
want to know what is wrong that you are not
bringing up the topic! But, I did validate that which
I already presumed about women both young
and older. Fine, means 'I am right', the discussion
is over, and you need to shut up. Of course when
a woman says 'That's OK' you are in very dangerous
territory. It means she's thinking long and hard about
what your punishment is going to be. When she says
'Nothing', get ready because discussions beginning
with 'Nothing' end in 'Fine'. Non-verbal cues like a
sigh, mean you're an idiot and she's wasting her time
arguing with you about nothing(See Above) . Well, I am
exhausted and these ladies have given me much to
think about. Have I really been thinking about sex daily
for the last 55 years? No wonder I am so tired! See you
next week. Keep the passion flowing, the peas in the pot,
and the ham cooking.
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  119.     

bFootball Friday

Once upon a time some few years ago we'd meet
Donning my oversized suit, cleats two sizes to big for my feet
Toward the end of a climax, prayed no one would frown
The thrill of Friday night lights, in every little Georgia town

Revealing where every man, woman, and child could be found
Good or bad economy, they seem to close down the town
All heading toward the nights 8 P.M. lights
Why some of them hoping to see me tonight

Saturday mornin' read not the comics, obituaries, and views
Heading straight to the sport's page, for Friday night news
In downtown cafe's, re-living all of the damage that was done
Ole' Hank and Maurice of course, bragging about their sons

Why didn't Coach Lane in the fourth, pull the quarterback out
Half the crowd with incessant booing, the others with doubt
Such as it is in South Georgia, with these Friday night treats
Always the toast of Fall weekends, whether in victory or defeat.

{ And in comes Barry Lanier #65 right pulling guard,213 pounds, All-State, what! the coach is pulling him out } Metter High School,1970, record 7-3 Sub-region Champs
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 

   
   
 

  120.     

bFor Better Or Worse

Scientific genius now proclaims
Witness these cells, fragmented and maimed
I create life, give you eternal existence
For those of you, can afford my remittance

The miracle of life, once copulatory
Now only we need, my humble laboratory
Come one, come all, I'll take you all
Making you fat or thin, even short or tall

Death no longer a virtue, a sad part of life
Just step in right now, resolved with my knife
Laws of nature and God, need not apply
Is living worth living, should we never die?

Thinking the future holds new truths
Being never really anticipated
When newborns are not born
Yet simply replicated

Thinking I might defer at this time
From simply the man-made world
Lest one fine day we might not know
The boy from the girl
 
Barry A. Lanier
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier