Posts tagged ‘Guns’

January 6, 2016

MOLON LABE

by jhon baker

here we are at two in the morning

2.16 to be precise

and sleep is in the past and far from me now

I eat Reality Sandwiches

and drink coffee, black, out from a chipped mug

 

I seem to be the target of spam lately

and with this I admit to the digital age

fully with handheld computers

and online dictionaries and

the classic writers thesaurus

 

and I read Bartlett’s book of anecdotes

to substitute for any actual experience

which is a lie

though I sleep away in relative safety

next to a loaded revolver

 

MOLON LABE – out from my cold dead hands

and of course I speak of poetry

long looks and bedroom post-coital whispers

it is not enough that the sun should rise

in a few hours but that the moon is full

 

 

– Hoc Scripsi

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August 15, 2015

Time won’t let me go

by jhon baker

August 15th – 11:33 prime meridian

time won’t let me go.

memories don’t fade fast enough for some people.

the world is so difficult to give up and I’ve a fully loaded six shooter

shooting .410 bore shotgun shells next to me as I write this.

I’m freshly cleaned and glistening with cleanliness.

 

I am at the right hand of god prepared for revolution;

my nails are clean as I’ve cleaned them also.

 

days go by like cars on a highway and I don’t know what to do with them,

I hide in my home with too many rooms unused and too much carpeting to vacuum.

catatonia,

and I order toast with marmalade.

August 5, 2015

a monster enters my cell

by jhon baker

and I recognize myself from photographs strewn across the internet and placed among my parents things.

the black notebooks sit unused in pockets of jean jackets with Mont Blanc pens attached.

stop world consciousness existed before the medications and stability ruined the mirror image of perplexion.

an ant crawls joyfully on the lattice work of wrought iron patio furniture careful not to upset the balance.

and the dead birds come in droves.

parallels of superable considerations and a fly crawls across the rim of a coffee cup, awake and staggeringly beautiful.

they pray from both ends.

journaling thoughts later for storage into a vat of nothingness and I toughen up.

bleeding hearts are broken by mean looks and stern words spoken abruptly.

I kick the dirt under my walking boots and wonder how many creatures I’ve killed in similar fashion.

fresh page unshaven and unwritten, strands of a broken spine stumble all pencils in the margin.

sado-masochist with aim only for his own conditions tries coke for the first time. gets bitten.

shameful secret is out and we cannot control individual reactions to fake legs and prosthetic fingers.

a hallowed shell – a spent cartridge is still illegal in the right company.

 

April 16, 2014

late night posting

by jhon baker

Lying in bed and finding typing difficult to do with any sense of rhythm.

I have Clifford Brown queued up on the iPod and Dawkins as my nighttime reading.

I type now, in the dark, by touch alone.

Medications have been taken and callouses removed, Ruger LC9 on the nightstand – I am naked ready for action.

My nails are long and the moon, nearly full, is no longer blood, calling for the end of times.

I rest easy – thinking long thoughts about David Ignatow, Russia, and the wars in general.  I am not a purveyor of the selfie or silly quizzes though I take them out of boredom. I am heavy bored because I lack inner resources. Thank you John Berryman.

My wife wears too many clothes.

 

 

June 27, 2011

Reality is a pain in the ass sometimes.

by jhon baker

A few things for today – maybe no poem but we shall see.
I was reading a friend of mines blog where she shared an excellent story of strength through defiance and 24 year old bravado – you can read it yourself here. One of the commenters mentioned getting a CCL permit, which I read to be a CCW permit – a license to carry a concealed weapon. There are a lot of folks against this for various reasons but the aforementioned story highlights a point I often make in the face of the “wouldn’t it be a better world without guns?” – my answer? – no.  what? you didn’t hear that? – It was a resounding NO.
Say the story ended a little differently and the 24 year old was beaten or worse by the two offenders instead of backing off. What was she or the guy she was with going to do about it if it escalated into an absolute horror show? Not a damn thing could have been done except possibly call the police who would have arrived well after what ever could have happened happened.
I firmly believe that all women should carry a weapon that they have been trained to use in the moment of need. I would feel much better if my mentally stable wife would walk around with her SR9c in her purse (and maybe she does, who knows?). 49 states have acknowledged that this right exists for a reason – self preservation, among others.
I usually give this scenario – imagine a large man who stands nearly 6’2″ – weighing well over 200 pounds and no-one (including doctors) would describe him as fat. A large animal and can be terrifying to behold. If he met a woman or girl and decided that he was to be a brute – is there anything that can be done to stop him? not by most unarmed females, however, a smallish revolver or auto is an equalizer – one that would stop even the most vicious attack. It is far better to be judged by twelve than carried by six.
I’ll end this here but I am sure it may be carried on in the comments.
If you can – get a CCW, train properly and have it should the need ever arise and I hope that it never will. It isn’t that you ought to live in fear, it is that you ought to want to make it to bed every night and wake up every morning unharmed.

for some levity…
look what I found!

Four of the most precious kittens – between my and my neighbors back yard. Jackson has already named one.

mittens.

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