Posts tagged ‘on poetry’

April 3, 2010

clocked out for the weekend.

by jhon baker

So I don’t know what to write today. I might be burning at the odd ends this week as my activity has been more than normal. I spent a large portion of yesterday on the road and at my Father in-Law’s place. I say that as if he chooses to be there, as if it is his own and he goes out to mow the lawn on Sundays or asks me to help him tune up his car or tractor, like he has bills of his own and greater responsibility than playing tricks on nurses and other members. His home is a VA home in Manteno, Il. Where he has to be following a massive stroke over six years ago. He is now the ghost of the man I love as dearly as my own father. but I have digressed… once home I took another large bit and looked over what I have written this year to give final revisions and final typing. Two days ago I assisted a local theater company in the construction of some of a current set. Go to here to learn more about that show. It was fun to build something larger than furniture or small caskets for a change. That night I wrote quite a bit as well. This has been the steady of my week so far. each day it’s own and full of something. I’ve been sleeping great for two weeks straight and I cannot recall when this has happened before. Maybe I am cured of one thing to now be without mind today.
the poem for Easter Weekend – having nothing to do with Easter but I needed to acknowledge that somewhere I think.



Title: 2/11/2009

black trees
gray sky
white earth.

the last snowfall
of the season and itself
the last guest of
day.

mute silhouetted tones
obfuscating sidewalks
and dirt pathways.

winters obsolescence in
early year and only
missed mid-summer.

but it is without

conclusion.


 – Hoc Scripsi


This is everything I have for now, if I think of something later I’ll let you know.
oh! What are thoughts regarding business cards to feature my not-haiku poems on the reverse? Like eight different designs/ not-haikus? place any thoughts in the comments where you may also comment about any thing or non-thing.

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April 1, 2010

Happy you day, happy me day. Happy first day of poetry month

by jhon baker

in 1984, Marvin Gaye was murdered by his father in LA. Who believed that?
in 1917 Scott Joplin died in a mental institution, it probably wasn’t known for a few days back then. No internet and all.
I always laugh a belly laugh when I remember that the fledgling day of poetry month is A day for fools. That is what we are – fools.

a poem not about E.E. Cummings

Cummings wrote some wonderful stuff
about the prostitutes of France.
painting them remarkably deteriorated and
    painfully beautiful;
the fragrance of nightly breath enough
    to usher tears into existence.

so many,
I’ve painted and/or sketched words
about were this.
more we’ve made great who
were not, some
lent away greatness, now
insignificant.

never have I been a whole lover.
never have I known to give at such a level.
only that I have been the prostitute
in some sense of sense;
never the sexual admirer
that was E.E. Cummings.

– Hoc Scripsi

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March 28, 2010

"being shot is not an everyday thing but it doesn’t surprise me."

by jhon baker

The man gets shot and he simply goes on. “I’m not afraid… of anything” – Werner Herzog

he says about Timothy Treadwell (aka Grizzly Man) “he’s a member of the family, he had something volatile, something broken, something dark, something inexplicably wild about him.”

On universal Harmony – “I believe the common denominator of the universe is not harmony but chaos, hostility and murder.”

on death – “one, I will not film a snuff film. Two, there is such a thing as dignity and privacy of an individuals death…”

about being shot at the outset of the interview – “I think bottom line is the poet must not avert his eyes. You have to take a bold look at what is in your environment what is around you even the ugly things, even the decadent things, even the dangerous things…

about being defeated by [it] “of course it is out there but so what I’ve done battle and I’ve been a good soldier…”

I couldn’t help but post this once I found it. It is not about what I think about Timothy Treadwell but about what Werner says during the interview.

March 17, 2010

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS, SHUT UP AND EAT YOUR LEMONS.

by jhon baker

ticking of a clock

wife chopping up
vegetables, going through
cabinets and drawers,

cooking dinner with
great efficiency.
the child playing his

computer games and
the cats meowing for some
attention or fresh water.

the furnaces turn on and off
heating a room to 67 d Fahrenheit
(19 d Celsius)
somewhere outside there is

the sound of radios playing
modern urban music
the engine braking of trucks

coming to stop on
or slow toward Shales Pkwy
on Rte. 20.

or the other way around.
but
it drives men mad.

– I wrote this.

New added feature, now you can follow this blog via face book. Look for the widget on the left column and click follow on either the blogspot one of the facebook one. Llike all people wanting to be famous, my happiness is measured by the amount of followers I have. Joking, I am never happy. Happiness is like the theater candy ‘good & plenty’ – this is only true before you open the box, when you invariably find that where they can pass for good you always want one more or maybe two more, but there was not “plenty” available without spending another seven USD – which considering how much journals pay for poetry these days is a lot of fucking money.
That is a really long plea.
Last night I slept well, taking only my normal amount of medications without supplementing with anything herbal or over the counter or out the back door. I hope that this means I will sleep well agian tonight. But, as Bob Dylan once said –
“hope is just a word that maybe you said
maybe you heard
down some windy corner
down some winding curve.” (last thoughts on Woody Guthrie)

how short is this life?

we are still in mourning over Todd Moore. Go there for more thoughts.