Posts tagged ‘on writing’

January 23, 2011

Sunday and just a few things

by jhon baker

To begin, I thought  I would post a few links back to older posts that I liked or that I want you to like and read if you haven’t.

A recent post – one that I truly love and if you haven’t read it, please do. A note from K
why don’t they shoot more poets?
When life gives you lemons, shot up and eat your lemons
being shot is not an everyday thing, but it doesn’t surprise me.
stunned and lovely

that is all – I am sure that this is too much, but it is hard for us crazy people to control ourselves and I don’t come here for control.

To end, at Rabbit’s Creative Den there is a question regarding where we write and I thought it best to refer to an old post covering this topic but add a few more photographs to that – of the remainder of the room.

an old view from before I moved the typewriter – but it gets most of the room.
A current view of where I sit and type – sans chair in this photo.
view from the door – also sans chair.
here’s one with my chair – it isn’t too comfortable as I don’t want to get lazy while being engaged.
Any questions? The photos contain every thing from a Dictionary, A WCW collection, an LCP .380, Gibson les paul custom, dean 12 string, Other reference materials, couch, painting of mine, Various typewriters (total of 3 – one is under a cover on the bottom shelf of the book case.
I will be changing my desk soon, so I can move a typewriter down to the coffee bar/library room and have more storage for reference materials. The room is always in some state of flux and more so when I am spending the appropriate amount of time in it. 
Other wise – this is where I usually write my blog – other times I bring the laptop to the garage or the writing room. Rarely anywhere else – except for notes of course.
The last place I do any writing should look familiar to most of you…
January 22, 2011

Post 300 and it’s nothing special.

by jhon baker

I like to write letters. I like to write them with my 1983 IBM Selectric III. It is not that I am of another, former, school or that I feel this connection to other notables who used similar machines, I simply get more out of the experience as it is tactile, auditory, visual, visceral, emotionally invested, and so on – This is my pleasure. I also get from this a poetry of substance as poetry often fills parts of the letters, written as I type and sometimes good and sometimes not, the whole process lubricates the synapse and fingers. Allows new ideas to come.
So, this I propose – I have had a few pen-pals the last few years but I am down to my last and she is no longer able to respond to my letters, she is reaching the end of her life, I already miss her terribly. My heart breaks even to consider a world without her direct influence. I am not looking for a replacement, there could be no replacing my current, when she goes into a place where there is no pain, I believe that I will continue to write to her anyway – I’ll just have no-where to send the physical letter to anymore.
I would like to have other letter friends, communicating in the old way and helping the USPS (if you are in the Americas) or who ever does your post at the same time. Would there be any takers among you? You do not need a typewriter or even nice paper. Long hand works well as does printed out from the computer. The key is that it is mailed and it is thought out somewhat. The key is a quality communication.
If you would like to write to me – I will respond, it will be typed, it may have poetry, there may be misspelled words and bad sentences – there may be disorganized thought and sporadic insanities – one can never tell. But it will always be honest and unvarnished. Also, sometimes I draw on the paper if it sits in front of me long enough before getting into an envelope. Not that I can draw worth a damn – but it may be interesting.

Any takers? if so, e-mail me and I will give you my physical address. I promise any sent letter will garner a response be it one sentence or four pages of them. Who knows – this may become a thing.

January 8, 2011

Good morning and the world somehow looks different.

by jhon baker

I can’t decide if I want to now file the 2010 poetry separately from the 2011 like I have always done with past years, so far there doesn’t seem to be a nice cap on last year but I am still working on several from the past few months, but the finished product would go in this year, not last year. I will probably do what habit dictates but we shall see. I usually give myself until February when I do the taxes to have all my files straightened out and properly stored for long term.
Last years output wasn’t bad at all, more than the previous year and this has been going for awhile. I wanted to have written more and while I dealt with the three and a half month creative drought I cannot seem to allow that to be an excuse – though it be a damn good one.
This blog is finally recovering from said drought and I hope to keep up the pace for awhile. We shall see. I’ve never been the most prolific writer, but have always focused on making each offering the best it could be before it left my possession and entered the world on its own, others can do this faster than I but I don’t mind that as long as I’ve got the process going – usually on several at the same time.
As of right now I think there are six or so nearly complete poems – including a long one (a few hundred lines) and in that one I owe to a great friend, Kevin – nearly complete but still struggling with a few lines – not perfect yet, soon – soon.
There is also a moleskine with many ideas for new work, several typed pages with ideas and of course – there are the notes made in the margins of what I’ve been reading lately and my brain which teems with ideas that float along through the noise waiting for better formulation to be written down.
I believe in Allen Ginsberg’s “first thought, best thought.” I also acknowledge that even this first thought is not always best said with the first words that come to describe it. A. Believed this as well – evidenced by his journals and early copies of his poems. He would work on some things for years and others would come off on the plane trip home. I refer to “Father Death” in this last instance.
When writing Haiku I usually come up with most of the wording right away – as it strikes me, a satori moment if you will, and then work hard to file it down to as few words as possible, sort of like Ezra Pound would focus on later in life. Then it is meter – the syllable – each one considered for its metrical flow. This seems clinical but it isn’t and it thrills me while I am doing it. The act is also very taxing for me and sometimes I will require a mental break away from it lest I lose my mind again.
yes, I edit my poetry and I know that to some this is sacrilege. I am trying to do something with the line, the poetic form, and I am zeroing in on it. Hopefully, by old age, I’ll have it sussed.

Why have I written all this out?

I have no clue.

now to work on my magpie prompt.

November 22, 2010

by jhon baker

Rain poured this morning so I stayed in bed until after noon. Sitting now at a local shop (okay, it’s a Starbucks) and it started raining hard again. How did I know this? it was not looking out the window or seeing the bright lightening flashes but the sudden increase in pain in my leg. The chunk of metal astc as some kind fucking antenna for weather changes and sudden ones are the most painful.
Waiting for someone to appear here and in the meantime looking like one of those writers with their MacBook open writing all alone, against the world.

I’ve nothing to write about right now other than right now. There is no-one interesting here and my new friend has yet to show up. It is raining so hard I hope he has a ride but I don’t know as  I can’t really say I know him all that well yet.

had rain outside the local coffee shop

bad art, pale blue walls
children left alone in
the vestibule, waiting
for their mother to bring
the car round

 – Hoc Scripsi