Archive for ‘Poetry’

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May 7, 2012

sun and the moon continued

by jhon baker

I should give up the blog altogether. I’ve been going through a period of low creativity lately and blogging about it has not been on my to do list.

But, I’ve been thinking. Reading. Refilling the well with new information. I am waiting now for the payoff and waiting isn’t my strong suit.

What I need to do is get down to it and write a bunch of crap which I’ve been resisting. Allow the brain to work its connective magic, there is no other way that each synapse is going to know that it isn’t doing its job. The pretty genius in the corner needs to get out of the corner and meet me half way. There is nothing else really going on that is that distracting except what I distract myself with.

Not that I haven’t been writing and occasionally putting out something worth sharing and so I blame that end of the year burst and depression that followed. To which I am heavily medicated against now but also medicated against the severity of another mania which I miss and see flickers of here and there fighting for attention.

Giving up the blog would be an act of honesty as I now am feeling the dishonesty of keeping up the appearance of having one. Would all three of my readers miss my occasional outreach? Would you notice? Are there more than three of you?

I am reaching for the bottle here and wishing for the stars… the sun and the moon, the shaky days of not knowing if I had a clean uniform for work and if I was going to be fired for my latest outright challenge to the authority of a nameless supervisor. I had never wanted to work but now it is all I want to do. Being disabled/retired at 35 is not all it may seem to be but there is the small check from government and endless guns to play with when no-one is looking.

here is something newish which I was going to send to Take it to the streets but missed the deadline. It is for my wife – the muse that keeps me alive and reaching for the stars.

 

with cold hands

 

it’s cold

so I touch the warmth of her thighs

with cold hands, she shivers

 

gaily we dance under soft comforters

beneath the sounds of jazz belonging to another decade

before our birth

 

the windows closed locking out the colder winds

we warm and embrace, sweat heat in loving

the minutiae of such good fucking

 

– Hoc Scripsi

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April 25, 2012

sun and moon

by jhon baker

never write when it rains, it always ends up about the rain so I start with the rain and end it with…

I watch my wife shave her legs and remain hidden, covered by the bathroom door.

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April 19, 2012

post

by jhon baker

to post or not to post – that is the question. Or rather the question is energy and ideas – an abundance of those and I’d be posting like I use to.

My nephew is going through his own ennui with posting and it reminded me that I haven’t had an original post in some time. So I thought I would post nothing today just so the three of you know that I am breathing.

I’ve had a few conversations on the subject of Haiku poetry and its form lately. Those of us in the know and out of school tend toward avoiding the 5-7-5 American grade school requirement but adhere to the guide of what each line ought to represent.

first line – kigo – the seasonal reference – very important

second line – the moment as it is

third line – the satori or ah ha moment.

 

This is freeing and simultaneously restricting as one should always avoid the obvious…

mid spring

writing a haiku

and it is bad

 

– but rather –

 

cherry blossoms

decayed and floating

whose illusion?

 

it isn’t much better but you get the idea.

On poetry and Haiku – it isn’t well hidden that I regard the vast majority of poetry to be total crap that should have never graced the page it was written on but maybe less well known is that I hate 99% of Haiku. Yes, I am an opinionated bastard. I should add that I believe that everyone who wants to write poetry ought to but not share it with the world until they’ve been doing it long enough to know that most of it is crap – I call this taste. Haiku is different, a little. You should wait to share it with others until you have written 10,000 of them. I’ve written well over that but have only ever shared about 20 – and those I question.

Art is for the creator when done and kept private – art is done for the creator only in the act of creation, when we wear the laurel wreath. After it is no longer the creators and has been co-opted by the masses. If you know what you have done is good then you know it wasn’t done by you anyway. The mistakes are all ours, everything else belongs to someone else.

I am not religious but an atheist. So this may confuse the three of you reading this. I’m just not egotistical enough to think the good lines are mine alone.

 

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March 28, 2012

the fine blade

by jhon baker

I imagine that all (3 or 4) that frequent this blog have already been to scribd to read ark and other poems – feel free to share that link on your own page and on FB – help make my poems the stuff of legend!

but did you also know that you can own a professionally printed version of ark and other poems from pepper press? by clicking on that link and buying the 6 dollar copy of ark you also will get a free copy of my previous chap put out by free penny press titled “gypsy bars, back alleys and one way streets” –

that is pandering.

this is a poem.

 

1. the bending of steel

poetry.

coffee.

a love of hard liquor.

rifles, shotguns, pistols

revolvers.

men were bound by

thinner threads then these.

 

2. hammering to form

poetry.

coffee.

a love of hard liquor.

rifles, shotguns, pistols

revolvers.

man’s bind was broken by

thinner threads than these.

 

3. the fine blade

beauty.

art.

love.

the eyes and body move

of a naked dancing muse.

man’s mind was broken by

thinner threads than these

 

– hoc Scripsi

Posted in Othe blogs and other interesting things., Poetry, Short poem | 2 Comments »

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