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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier  7/26/2014 2:07:23 AM
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bInspecting Myself

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.
Scratching my leg in bed last night,
feeling an itchy area like a patch,
of dried graham cracker, mixed with
bubble gum, stuck to my leg. Hell it
was something growing on me! I
scrapped it off and bled for two days.
Suddenly things are starting to grow
one me. All shapes, sizes, some hidden
others in sight, Even conglomerations.
Little warts, big warts, stuff that don't
even resemble warts. Get in front of the
mirror now every morning. I never used
to do that. It's reserved for women. I found
one in the corner of my eyelid this morning.
It looked like someone had put Super Glue
in the corner while I was sleeping. I pull down
my eyelid and the little thing looked like a
spread out batwing stuck into the corner.
Then I look into the corner of my nose, and
yes, I was right, a little round thing stuck in the
corner. Now when in the heck did that get
there? Now days, I have to lay down to inspect
other body parts. We won't go there. Well, life
has a way of making each day more interesting!
Barry A. Lanier



bIntention To Escape Him

Learning a new language
Where I can better relate
Honing skills and the courage
To yet leave him one day

Forever trapped in this existence
Praying and singing those hyms
Obsessed within my misery
Intentions of escaping him

Sweet dreams will sustain me
Through the pain and strife
Until my prince comes along
Wanting just me in his life
Barry A. Lanier



BIt Seems To Me

It seems to me
Walking down the street
I see a little bit of God
In everyone that I meet

And when the day is over
And all the doors passed through
Greeting all with a smile I've seen
Doing as I'm supposed to to

{'If you don't find God in the next person you meet, it is a waste of time looking for him further'- Mahatma Gandi(1869-1948) }
Barry A. Lanier



bJailed Poet

Connecting links,
And third eye blinks.
Setting minds free,
With ink blots and rhyme.

Words meaning more tomorrow,
Than their impact today.
Could my words of tomorrow,
Conflict with their ways.

They threw me in jail,
Didn't want me to tell.
What a 'free' man,
Could turn out to be!

They can shackle my hands,
And tie down my feet.
But they can't arrest my heart,
Nor incarcerate my dreams.

Should I remain here,
My dreams turning into dust.
The words forever remain,
And shall never rust.
Barry A. Lanier
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Poems By Poet Barry A. Lanier