Posts tagged ‘love poem’

February 20, 2013

writing about love

by jhon baker

my son tells me that when I run out of ideas

to write about love –

and if I’ve written about love before

it should be easy –

I suppose it should –

but it rarely is.

 

some of the hardest poems I’ve written

were about love –

filial love, sexual love, bonded love,

platonic love, Greek love,

love of self or of youth, of beauty

of women or men

woman or man.

 

all I ever write about is love

in one form or another

and sometimes, I guess,

it is easy.

though you would never know it.

 

 

– Hoc Scripsi

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February 14, 2013

sitting down to write a love poem

by jhon baker

 

 

do you know how hard it is

to sit down and write a love poem

without it coming out sentimental drivel.

I want to know who you were

who you are now

and who you will be,

your history fascinates me.

as does tomorrow.

today I am with you

and glad of it.

 

 

– Hoc Scripsi

December 26, 2012

for K.

by jhon baker

I have loved

now I love

 

I shall lie betwixt her breasts

in the mood merriment of playful jazz

lust or longing, a wandering

a melancholy jest.

 

the star of Venus of Heaven

the tragedy of Euridice

we dance the dance of Polyhumnia

and write the words of Callopie.

 

we are like children

under cover of moon’s somber reflections

memories vouchsafed lying

on night’s dewy grasses.

 

– Hoc Scripsi

May 7, 2012

sun and the moon continued

by jhon baker

I should give up the blog altogether. I’ve been going through a period of low creativity lately and blogging about it has not been on my to do list.

But, I’ve been thinking. Reading. Refilling the well with new information. I am waiting now for the payoff and waiting isn’t my strong suit.

What I need to do is get down to it and write a bunch of crap which I’ve been resisting. Allow the brain to work its connective magic, there is no other way that each synapse is going to know that it isn’t doing its job. The pretty genius in the corner needs to get out of the corner and meet me half way. There is nothing else really going on that is that distracting except what I distract myself with.

Not that I haven’t been writing and occasionally putting out something worth sharing and so I blame that end of the year burst and depression that followed. To which I am heavily medicated against now but also medicated against the severity of another mania which I miss and see flickers of here and there fighting for attention.

Giving up the blog would be an act of honesty as I now am feeling the dishonesty of keeping up the appearance of having one. Would all three of my readers miss my occasional outreach? Would you notice? Are there more than three of you?

I am reaching for the bottle here and wishing for the stars… the sun and the moon, the shaky days of not knowing if I had a clean uniform for work and if I was going to be fired for my latest outright challenge to the authority of a nameless supervisor. I had never wanted to work but now it is all I want to do. Being disabled/retired at 35 is not all it may seem to be but there is the small check from government and endless guns to play with when no-one is looking.

here is something newish which I was going to send to Take it to the streets but missed the deadline. It is for my wife – the muse that keeps me alive and reaching for the stars.

 

with cold hands

 

it’s cold

so I touch the warmth of her thighs

with cold hands, she shivers

 

gaily we dance under soft comforters

beneath the sounds of jazz belonging to another decade

before our birth

 

the windows closed locking out the colder winds

we warm and embrace, sweat heat in loving

the minutiae of such good fucking

 

– Hoc Scripsi

December 11, 2011

a full bloom

by jhon baker

the flowers are yours.

>

wrapped bloom

naked,

plucked ripe,

full,

stripped.

>

to be virginal

>

and honeyed

in tactile, close

.  .  eye’d

.  .  sensations

.  .  and warm, full

inhalations,

pressing close

>

between your breasts.

>

– Hoc Scripsi

>
I stayed up late for this one last night and I am not sure it was worth it. but there it is. – Jhon

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