Posts tagged ‘a day in the life’

August 16, 2015

am not asleep

by jhon baker

been awake too damn long and I’m sick of it.

nothing to do with the cup of coffee I just poured myself in one of my Vincent mugs.

I suppose it isn’t that late but I am hungry and looking for my angry fix.

I haven’t been sleeping well.

and the windows have faces that I can’t comprehend.

I put on my goggles and peer out into the darkness of the backyard sitting next to my wife who is equally as perplexed as I am but today I did not forget my medications.

I still feel the world spin and note the stench of cigarettes and dying sunflowers.

better than earlier when I could scent out the unique putrefaction of several birds finding only one feather.

but the couch got moved.

generally enervated and bone pain sick of it.

half-banana moon, toothpicks on the highway, sick of it.

skin falling off and miswriting sin, a lack of croutons in soup, sick of it.

tattoos, assassinating public figures, the FBI comes and visits me at six am, sick of it.

or I am in stir, a padded room with nothing but this white computer and the insatiable need to sleep.

or I am in a wheat field with crows thinking about a .38 special.

or I am in bed, lying prone, ready to fire with a hard-on and magazine dreams.

add a new category.

eleven: forty-six pm – my eye lids are heavy and I am over tired.

goodnight.

goodnight.

goodnight.

September 21, 2011

Day of peas

by jhon baker

shine on motherfuckers, shine on.

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peas.

August 29, 2011

I am no longer a spiritual guide

by jhon baker

While I’m not lost, I am sojourning on my own. Sort of. I have my companions who each are on their own spiritual path but we tread together. K, Jackson, Micael, our dead and several others, still living; this is what I believe.

Buddha said to work it out for ourselves and that is what I am doing.

How long is this life? I do not fear death. How long is this life? I do not fear death. How long is this life? I do not fear death.

I have already died, they have already murdered me. I have tread a path to the other side so I know what is next and live accordingly.

Death has set at his table a place for this body eight times hence and will be set again; I shall remember the names of our dead.

 

August 21, 2011

Sunday

by jhon baker

We are brought to a lazy Sunday. Last night around two-thirty I drugged myself with the idea of unconsciousness – by three am it worked.

In dream the world was melting while I was watching from the side, as a wallflower in an oil painting awash in mineral spirits.

Today, we begin the final phase of painting my sons play room, nee my writing room. This will involve stick figures actual size if actual size were about four and a half tall. This will involve hand prints and foot steps up the wall. This will involve many brushes and five assorted colors all chosen by their individual brilliance which will be handy as they are being hand painted over a code red wall.

I am reminded by this process that I did go to an arts college. Majored in fine art and art history. I can paint and draw. it is just depending on the level of seriousness at which I lose myself and my mental capabilities.

I long for canvass again.

be one with caffeine and cigarettes. Love life love yer wife.

– me.

August 7, 2011

Rain, thunder and a smashed pinkie fingertip

by jhon baker

Stuck outside under an umbrella

it has started to rain, a gradual build up so I don’t know how long I’ll be here.

The computer battery is dying and

the coffee is only hot for so long.

it causes slight pain to my hand to type as I’ve smashed a pinkie finger and I actually type with all ten fingers.

I can’t shut one of them off.

playing piano hurts more.

thus I am unprepared for tomorrows lesson.

 

my back gets a little wet but the electronics are protected.

the damn chipmunk mocks my efforts from his hole at the side of the house.

mosquitoes feeding and making me feel anemic.

the rain puts the cigarette out.

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