Posts tagged ‘crap’

May 20, 2010

not titled yet

by jhon baker

 befuddled and stuck in this mire of wordlessness – or words that do not want to connect coherently in the best order. At this point I know that I am making too much of it and need to stop thinking about this estrangement from the muse.
This started with the composition of an excessively verbose poem – far too heavy handed but it doesn’t want to get rewritten – I mean what I said and it sucks, or at least caused this ripple of drought to infect my very being. It’s dramatic and drastic without being dynamic or interesting.
but here it is anyway and I am only putting it out there because I need to either own it or shoot it. Possibly both.

not titled yet

susurrous dissonance playing on in our heads through
voices obfuscating true thought.
no action, reaction; no alleviation but pressing pressing pressing and
drinking to augment the medication, an ill-advised admixture.

sudden cessesation and eyes open
heart thump bump thump bump
really going on and on and on
fear sweat wetting hair and outer shirt
body shivers from breezes.

awake

light low.

powder burns and night now.
feet cold and uncovered by a short
green blanket.

 – Hoc Scripsi

next week this goes to the range for a few holes in it to see if that offers the proper way in.

April 26, 2010

it seems to be Monday morning, and glad of it.

by jhon baker

When I worked, Mondays were always the easiest day, Full of paperwork and sitting at the desk to get everything in the mail on time, I would start early, around five AM usually and be gone between 1-2pm. Of course this necessitated waking up at 4am but this whole thing has been a digression.
or is it? as I am mostly unsure about the direction I want to be in this morning and thinking a little of this afternoon but mostly of sleep and dreaming, specifically last nights. I don’t mean to live in the past a little but you have to admit, it is right there for us to do so.
I wonder if I will ever stop wanting to drink, smoke, take drugs.
I wonder if I will ever want to stop drinking coffee, writing, masturbating, playing with legos, loving legal voyeurism, among various other bad or dangerous things.
I don’t wonder these things too much because if I allow myself to live in the future I can see that the day will pass when these are not options but memories that I will continue to scribble about.
I look forward to being a dirty old man.
I look backward at being a dirty young man.
Right now is the middle. between two dirty states of being.
my thoughts are often unwilled intrusions, and I don’t act on most of them.
which is good because when I obsess, I obsess with the best of them.
I have a feeling that I will be adding to this later as I don’t feel finished yet. But am for now.

crap

1.
how much that each
one of us writes
is the summation or
fruition of
last nights dinner
today?

2.
in Irish pubs
you are surrounded by
la  la and hi ho’s

in the American bar
only by tears and
lives regretted or
lost.

I prefer neither nor
drinking – pills and
pain are my fixations.

 – Hoc Scripsi

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