Posts tagged ‘cancer’

February 25, 2013


by jhon baker

god, or somebody,




I take the doctors pink and white pills

and the blue/green one

with water before bed and

again when I wake up


and, supposedly,

they keep me sane and stable.


it’s not pleasant to die on the cross

or in back alleys and one way streets.


when I’m sick I swallow vitamins

and drink a lot of orange juice.

it helps.

and my hair doesn’t fall out

any faster then the approaching middle age.

I do not have cancer

though I smoke a pack a day.


It’s not charming to be awoken after dying

without permissions from the dead.


yesterday I spent an

inordinate amount of time in bed

for no reason

and had a lot of dreams,

none of which I remember now.

life, is boring – Henry says

and friends, I believe him



– Hoc Scripsi

July 9, 2011


by jhon baker

everything has worked out with the upload now.

everything is in place. and now it is about the words, thoughts, poems and a certified lunatic, lover, poet.

my brain has been cold for the past few days but is warming back to normal now. Yesterday the whites were pulsating and greens were were in tangent.

Suddenly I could taste the wood paneling after a fire but there were Vargas posters in the bathroom (Varga Girls) and an even lovelier woman seated at my table. All in all an interesting time – the waitress was begging for a larger tip from the get go – she was awkward and tired – badly put together, but it is easy to forgive those who have night jobs to supplement the day job which masks as a career.

I expect to be famous any minute now – So t-shirts may soon be available.

I want to see a bull gore a toreador

I want to see a bull gore a toreador.

I only ever pray when an
ambulance goes by
other wise,
I don’t believe.

it’s madness but
why can’t it be cancer?
something nice and clean?

I hope this made you spill your tea.

– Hoc Scripsi

March 28, 2011

Let us talk, communicate via things I wonder about everyone

by jhon baker

I decided last night, or rather the insomniac morning at four-fourteen am that I could or should come up with a few leading questions and ask for responses – like a quiz – the rules are simple – answer what you want if you want – in the comments or on your blog to perpetuate the idea. If you participate, please leave the link in my comments section. I will answer at a later date but all my answers are known already by me so there will be no cheating off others papers.
Oh, I do not think that the answers to these will really tell me anything beyond what your answer is at the moment you write it. There is no one question that leads to the profound truth about a persons person.

1. Do you write in the margins of books?
     a. if so, what do you write,
     b. if not, why not?

2. How particular are you about your clothing?

3. Do you listen to music when you write/draw/paint/do what it is you like to do?
     a. if so, what?
     b. if not, okay then, next question.

4. Do you intentionally or mistakenly mix metaphors?

5. Do you finish more than seventy-two percent of what you read?
      a. please approximate how much.

6. What are your personal feelings about cliche?
     a. realize that it is cliche to hate them before you answer.

7. Do you use a thesaurus?
     a. If yes, how many different kinds do you have?
     b. if no, how many different kinds are you hiding?

8. What is your preference:
     a. a frog reading a book paperweight, or
     b. a monkey reading a book paperweight

9. what are your vices?
     a. what are your real vices?

10. If you came across a bag of money, no-one around for miles, how would you justify taking it and not reporting it to anyone?

11. if the coffee barista never charges you for your really fucking expensive drink, how long do you wait before insisting on paying or do you just keep the latte train rolling?

12. How do you sleep at night living in a world without Don LaFontaine?

13. How much research do you put into a statement before making an ass out of yourself in front of someone else who knows better.

14. Define theft.

15. Define theft as it applies to you.

16. Define honesty.

17. define how you want it to apply to others about you.

18. quick, how many fingers am I holding up?

19. This being the last question as asking 20 goes against my sadistic tendencies (I know there are the OCD sufferers out there reading this)  I will ask, simply, if you only have 30 seconds to make a permanent judgment about a man – what would your criteria be – is it the same for a woman?

21. kidding. lying. What is your most harmful obsession?

ah, that was fun and slightly inane.

April 28, 2010

brain cancer

by jhon baker

while noticing trends in older poetry that has started to correct in my writing, there is the thought to rewrite all of it to reflect the newer way and developed style of writing. I don’t think this is a smart habit to get into as you will never be done revising what has been written unless you rut your style. I’m not even sure I have a style beyond avoidance of certain things.
I’ve thrown away a lot of work as it was no longer a fit and I couldn’t justify keeping it around. It wasn’t genius and it wasn’t blowing anyone’s mind, not even then unless the listener was still a teenager, then everything dark and brooding is good. Maybe I’m only talking about my friends. Friends are terrible judges of art.
Friends don’t want to hurt your feelings, which is a problem as they should be the ones who know how to hurt your feelings in the most constructive way.

Americans cannot have a discussion on a topic where they disagree as a disagreement is seen as an assault.
Cell phones may cause brain cancer and you cannot prove a negative.
there are a lot of people who probably wouldn’t miss their brain if it were gone – if the brain stem were gone – that would be different. but only slightly.
I don’t mean to imply that people are stupid as much as people don’t use the squishy tool for anything other than twitter.
I don’t twitter as I am not a twit.
using twitter may not make you a twit.
I don’t know.
As my wife gets her iPhone I am considering bashing my own in order to not have one at all. As it is it is ‘lost’ currently and I am happy.
I love the phrasing – as it is it is.

On plane headed to Phoenix

Draw no maps on my body
From the air there are no
state lines or divisions
This is how it is
how I am
My self has no divisions
no maps
No way of existing
only being

Sand leads into water
water into rivers
rivers into dirt
no thought
just does
& the clouds are always

 – Hoc Scripsi

This was written while I was on a plane heading into Phoenix. It was a layover so no-one there had a chance to ask for my papers. The layover lasted the length of time it took to get from one terminal to the other at a dead run. It may have been the last time I ran.

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