Vivaldi gives me a hard on

by jhon baker

but as I sit here and feel a mysterious depression untie me, instantly disbanding my intentions.
searching for the door now as it may be reopened that medications have washed out of me, forgetting my need and granting these recent lines of creation.
I’ve resurrected a bridge but decided to put away the friendship regardless. In some relationships there is no room for differences and the past isn’t always what some gratify it to be.

I am not alone and I wish to not leave this room, I wish to seclude and isolate, intolerate the world as it has done nothing specific or even so much as made note of any particular individual existence –
the world is not out to get me – nor anyone else for that matter. (Unless it is and, wow, that guy is fucked.)
a general distaste for the gathered throng is beginning to percolate again, bending my aspect toward something new or different, broken, old or discarded.
something borrowed, something blue
I am climbing at the walls and tilting at the ills that govern my outlook.

my brother, secret hero, our ancient people vilified one another
our ancient people spit blood on ancient corpses.

I already regret saying “thank you”.


the notebooks,
IBM Selectric IIIs,
et cetera
these are my shields,
protecting me from the world
from you –

My words are the weapons
I utilize

bludgeoning the audience
until they bleed from ears,
mouth, fingertips,
and eyes.

 – Hoc Scripsi

nothing I like more than killing them brutally with my words.

 – J.

12 Comments to “Vivaldi gives me a hard on”

  1. Ironic I read this today.. i recently said that my palm prints have become one with sidewalk cracks..
    perhaps I am depressed too or merely woefully tired…

    but this is not about me, it's about you….whatever you do or don't do know this, you are appreciated and your words may kill and yet they kill softly…

  2. you are an excellent writer…what we do with our our chosing…what others do with them is theirs…hopefully we learn from each other…words worth dying for or killing for…but that is here nor there…for you have a way with words….bkm

  3. Kill them or make them melt to their knees…just never, ever, bore them ; ) Right?

    Oh, the pressures, and no…none of us are really ever alone. Just across from one another, even if via fiber optic networks!

    So eloquent this is.

  4. I just found your blog ten minutes ago, and I am most definitely following. Your poetry is magnificent.

    and… I love typewriters.

    Peace and Love,

  5. Brilliant, Jhon, as per usual.

    It's maddening, wanting at once to open up and to isolate, to welcome and to reject.

    Beautifully (and painfully) put.

    So many reasons I've missed coming here…

    – B x

  6. If I was capable of a hard on, it probably wouldn't be Vivaldi. More like Chopin.

  7. Chopin, oh Chopin – another in my playlist for writing. No one can live a good life without Chopin.
    Thank you all for the comments/compliments – Happy to greet the new friends and welcome back the old ones.

  8. Team Piglet forever…

    that's all i've got….but you get my drift.

    (thank you)

  9. I long to read your work,
    and pray for the sweetest of slaying.

  10. That was really cool. I deeply enjoy the way in which you write things without concern for much beyond the writing itself.

  11. Greetings, how are you?
    you are invited to attend poets rally week 35, check out the link below to participate:
    Happy Holidays!

  12. End of The Year Awards 4 Friends of Jingle or Jingle Poetry Community

    Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! xxx

    keep up the excellence,

    link a poem to our potluck tomorrow, give us the cheers to continue…

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