Posts tagged ‘I’m only human after all’

December 17, 2010

everytime I’m with you, I’m fucked up…

by jhon baker

religious iconography isn’t my thing.

When my impatience with people, cats, machinery et cetera come on – I know it is time to take myself out of the mixture for awhile, all in attempt to avoid the medications, the ward, having to make the excuses – I am lucky in that my wife is somehow able to calm me and distract until she can get me to a safer place. I live not only with bi-polar spectrum disorder with psychosis but chronic pain as well, and when the pain peaks it causes all the effort of control to spin wildly and quickly down – I need my pain meds, today crying a bit while trying to nap after snow blowing the drive I could only think that I wanted to vanish into Hawaii or the mountains to live as a crazy monk.

anyway

I’ve never met the man who isn’t torn between

clean, sober, right,
shame, bottle and heartbreak.

who isn’t sliding toward the selfish decision;
who isn’t the man he wanted to be.

prescription drugs, narcotics
bad poetry, tense moments

of quietude and longing.
leaning against rail fences

sun shining on his face.

 – Hoc Scripsi

image from Magpie #45

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blurred vision
two dimensional –
beginning existence.
the child looks to it’s mother
and is forgotten by
most of the world.

this is your child,
contemplate their sacrifice
to the rivers of working men
and think not of the blood
shed during
birth
from your body
in painful throes.
Mary was saved the
embarrassment of virginity
and graphic detail
in thanks to stain glass legends
and some Pope high on
power and opium

March 27, 2010

awoke in my own bed

by jhon baker

 I awoke in my own bed this morning still worn out from the previous days driving. I do not regret my life.
By this I mean that I have lived hard and worn out my body. By this I mean that I have loved fully and still love completely my wife and son. By this I mean I may be crazy and have gotten that way from various treatments, concussions, drug and alcohol abuse and there is more, but for today and yesterday I think that I do not regret my life as once I could drive California to Chicago in thirty hours and still be okay after and now two days and 1100 miles with a few wrong turns has shown my endurance and that I do not regret my life.

ENDURANCE

having endured years of pain
solitude
and feeling like a crippled

boy,
I now have this painted
deep red four walls with a

couch room where I can do all of
my writing
without any concern of troubling anyone

even at 3 am.
I take naps on the couch brought from
ikea for around 800 bucks, it

has no real comfort but does
not make my back sore and
I do not have to move while sleeping to

remain.
I have a small desk on wheels
that a typewriter sits along side

a half empty box of 20 lb
fine business paper on which I compose
all my typewritten drafts.

a book shelf mainly occupied by typewriters,
clocks, a skeleton, amithaba and
a picture of 20 cats my

son drew first for his grandmother
then his mother and finally me.
I keep a massive dictionary in case

I need to consider a word or a spelling on
a cart like the one for the typewriter but grey.
My chair isn’t that comfortable but that

is best. Too relaxed and I will not write
too much or too well if I write at all.
and that of writing,

I don’t do too much of that now
as
I have a place in which to perform it.

 – I wrote this

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