Archive for May, 2011

May 22, 2011

written a year and two months ago – a revisit

by jhon baker

off the cuff
Most of the greatest poets it seems really are assholes. I believe poets to be highly opinionated egotists bent of displaying to the audience the poet’s mind and naked view, almost a forced voyeurism, of not only the world the poet occupies but the audience that reads them as well. As a poet you must be ballsy and arrogant to even consider participating in the art as an adult as a serious pursuit I mean to say.
hand some women a banana
and they eat it.
Hand it others
and they masturbate on the spot.
off the cuff
but most would talk
about it, indefinitely.
meanwhile, I’ll
sleep as sound as poet in
post
coital recreation
aftermath.
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May 16, 2011

by jhon baker

back to writing but feel there needs to be something new. Some other aberration to full the void of the quintessential. 

entropy is perpetually resolute.

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May 16, 2011

This is clearly a post while avoiding an actual post

by jhon baker

I’ve managed to sit back at my typewriter these past few days and get out a few letters I owe to some folks – if you are one of those folks – it’ll be in the mail today.

There is the greatest amount of unfinished poetry in my box right now and as where I’ve the will to finish it, I’ve not the words or the clarity to see where the fault in the line lies.

I’ve been avoiding the dentist because I am in no pain – even when I eat a candy bar, which is unusual. However, after remembering all the pain control medications I am on I realized that I wouldn’t know if I were in pain or not unless it was as severe as my leg/hip/back/foot. There is a dentist appointment in my future.

I’ve been selected, without application, as the parent representative of my kids school to interview potential principles along with two teachers and the superintendent. It will be his final choice but my voice will be heard. Quite an honor to be chosen out of 1400 parents – some of whom requested to be the representative. I love interviewing and was always good at it, would have been a police officer if I wasn’t so damn distrusting of them.
Some say it is best to change the system from within – I disagree as once you join the group you are part and parcel of said system and gain, though human tendency, a sense of amity and understanding within the group.
people are resistant to change and may villainize the agent of even the most positive of changes.

if never tested, principles mean nothing and have no value.

broke one of my favorite coffee cups today – it had the definition of ‘nascent’ relayed in a humorous fashion.

sometimes there are things for which no other person can relate without being in situ, alongside your experience. This is the struggle of my poetry about pain.

a recent poet needs to be wrought into shape as a poem – it was that good.

this will receive no such treatment.

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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