Archive for May 11th, 2011

May 11, 2011

there is a king

by jhon baker

tuned guitar and placed on the floor.
to live without.
waking up.

I’ve stacks of magazines on my desk awaiting notice of content, bills that I’d rather not pay as I fail to see the quality of the service and its addition to my life.

my watch has a broken off hand noticed only once at the airport and too late to change it for another. I love watches and collect them – nice ones but rarely wear them, preferring to be unencumbered from time and appointment. preferring to be unencumbered by diploma of life and riches and sun stained shoulders and neck.

but this isn’t my life anymore and I don’t work or add to a community that does not want words of perspective.
waking up.

ideation of end of life scenarios with tool of end game held firmly in hand but persistence of the flowers in the mornings and birds singing at five am –
waking up.

I remember a moment so brazen, bold – coming now with apple and white tooth smile hidden behind a beard or bad breath.
waking up.

suddenly 80 degrees Fahrenheit, suddenly humid and I sculpt memories out of tar and sand,
this is today.
this is where you can find me.
waking up.

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May 11, 2011

people ain’t no good

by jhon baker

so much pain in these past days – finally I took four times the prescription to be able to sleep – awoke in the middle of the night and made love to my wife, hobbled around the house for a cigarette after and fell back to sleep. Drug induced sleep is never restful but that wasn’t the point, it was to escape pain, escape teeth breaking clenched jaws and now I am having slight hallucinations and still in incredible pain.
Once asked how I would define the last four years of my existence – what one word to sum it all, everything I’ve learned, everything I’d experienced — all I could say was not love although the love thrust upon me from my wife was extraordinary – pain was what my lips couraged up. Pain has defined my existence for now four and a half years, barely controlled rage from said pain and narcotics and it’s not like I get high, it’s not like I can enjoy the crippling addiction to opiates, narcotics and sympathetic nerve control medications, I cannot enjoy the shaking hand and hallow feel ebb away once the drugs take effect, I cannot enjoy the simplicity of walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I try to not complain.

really.

today and yesterday and the day previous has been an experience of bordering on going to the hospital for a near lethal amount of Dilaudid.
but pain is loud and I cannot scream through its cacophonous discombobulation.

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