this is what I am thinking as I am picking the sleep from my eyes.

by jhon baker

Had a nap yesterday that didn’t feel like a nap and last night didn’t feel like sleep until about seven am which lasted until roughly nine. I’d call it sleeping in if the night was full of sleep. Most nights since I stopped taking the anti-psychotic have been fine but the main reason to stop taking the meds has not reversed itself as of yet. My mind is still clouded and the creative drought still exists. There is the other thought that I am splitting my mind between too many things right now to be able to concentrate on new poetry or prose.
I decided this weekend that I ought to have been applying labels or tags to each of my posts for easier reference. As I had not been doing this I am now going back and having to skim each one to apply the labels or tags and avoid the temptation to revise and rewrite passages that are not on the level of quality that the others are. Last night I did over a hundred thus completing the bulk of them and tonight I may finish the project but now I am thinking that I would be better off thinking of about 15 tags and only utilizing those which would mean that I would have to start over. I am not being kind to myself.
This morning is a Tom Waits morning and currently the song “Kentucky Avenue” is playing – brings me to tears every time.
My coffee is good and thanks to Kara for making it this morning when I was refusing to rouse myself. There is nothing better than walking into a kitchen where there is fresh, hot coffee and clean mugs – I drink it black and burn your fingertips hot.

I wonder what is done with medical waste and what will alien anthropologists think when it is found?

I’m almost sure there is a simple explanation but I am too nervous to use Google thinking that flarf may lead me into a new direction where there exists the pornographic denizens of the internet.



Words are dry, meaningless

words are dry,
expression faceless.
the ladybugs came here to die
on my window;
baking in the sun.

a hundred portraits
unhung,
composing city life.

walks along South Michigan
in Chicago;
children think I am homeless
and dirty.

find Buddha in the patrons .
find Buddha in the hall.
find Buddha on the front steps
of MOMA.
je suis beau!
find Buddha in me!

on these steps I ask for a light;
and I am
not thinking that I’m going to write this
a year later, or more, sitting at
my desk. where
ladybugs come to die
on my window.

– Hoc Scripsi

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5 Comments to “this is what I am thinking as I am picking the sleep from my eyes.”

  1. I thoroughly enjoy your streams of thought.. and there is that damn word “flarf” once more..

    I could priase your words as long as the sun continues to shine. so looking forward to that printed book…

  2. So much to dig here … from the Tom Waits tune to the great coffee smell… You have an elegant ease, sir… May the muses inspire.

  3. The book is out of my hands now so I am eagerly anticipating it as well. I am glad that you like the writing.
    Thank you much, Anthony, it's great to have you both here.

  4. Thanks for pretending. Smiling politely as I prattled on and on.
    I remember our own starry night – we painted for a week.
    It's all in my head, not a photo exists
    And it's all gone now.
    You inspire me,
    In all walks.
    I wish you health and bliss and anything else you want.
    I wish you were my friend.

  5. Thank you, well drawn and joyously painful.

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