Posts tagged ‘poetry book’

September 15, 2010


by jhon baker

Disney is all paid for now, unfortunately not from the awesome royalties from my book.

I trimmed about six inches off my beard and no longer feel… well, like myself.

I no longer look like one of the three wisemen, or is it now wise people?

this is not my good side.

The doctor tells me my knee is failing and since there is an awful lot of hardware keeping my femur together it is rather difficult to get a good look at the problem via traditional methods.

this is a ramble of minor proportions while my wife makes a turkey sandwich for my lunch.

most days I wake up and wonder if I am full of shit.

September 2, 2010


by jhon baker

Rain most of the day – I managed to escape on the motorcycle for a short bit and ride about 30 miles or so.

did I mention I have a book published? Available on Amazon and Barnes and Noble?

Anyway, my city is being cleansed and the new trees and lawn are drinking deep the nutrients from the heavens and my cat wants to be let on the porch to storm watch.
My son is dutifully sleeping away now while I drink coffee at nine thirty-seven at night.

thought about this poem this morning as  I struggled to knowingly get out of bed with my whole day in a twist with this rain.

it’s Thursday

woke up this morning and it was pouring rain, welcoming spring I slept in
late late. I had dreams that although I was married with a boy and my age,
I was naked in High School, but in dream I really didn’t care.

My older brother hit me in the head with a golf club,
while I was six, according to my mother,
broke open my skull,
according to the golf club.

Now I blame him for everything. like the instability.

–        J. 03.11.10

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September 1, 2010

September 1st

by jhon baker

September first finally dawns upon our planet and all that was August is behind us now. It was a bad month for my wife and a bad month for my writing. I wonder if those two things are related? However two great things have occurred that both happened in the waning half of August.
1. I decided that I have been off of a motorcycle long enough and that if my leg was ever going to be able to deal with riding another it was going to be now. I rode and the joy was still bright enough in me that I bought it and am now the proud owner of my second Harley and probably my seventh motorbike.

It is slowly morphing into a different looking and sounding machine but this is the first photo I saw of it and the one that drove me back to the dealer looking for my angry fix.
Sometime there are cliches that help us to define our manner of seeing things – here is mine…
Live to ride, ride to live.
if you don’t limp – you ain’t shit. (lovely euphemism I know, as most of us wouldn’t want to be shit anyway but you know what it means.)
so – I live to ride and I ride to live all while limping to and fro.
it gets convoluted soon after this so I’ll stop.

2. I strongly encourage you to follow this link: hands on the hips or go to Amazon dot com and type in the title or my name or go to Barnes and Noble dot com and put in the book title (issue with the name search there that is being handled) – then for all that is good and holy – order it.
it looks like this:

there will be a release party in October and if you would like to come and will be in the northern Illinois area then, consider yourself invited. E-mail for directions.
If you are a psychopath and want to crash my comfortable way – warning – I have several guns and enjoy using them.

 There are several important things that have happened on September the First in history such as – in 1914 the last known living passenger pigeon became no longer among the living locked up in a zoo and was probably thinking of a great statue in New York that it would love to get it’s talons on and in 1939 – Hitler (being an asshole) invaded Poland thus launching what we affectionately recall as the Second Great War and later renamed WWII after we came to realize that wars aren’t so great.
and in 2010 – I became a published author – obviously this last one is the most important by far.

Thank you for reading and I love you for not being too hard on me for my bad sense of humor.

Stepping over fallen leaves
and dismantled watches
making sure not to stumble 

 – Hoc Scripsi

July 21, 2010

yard work and Miles Davis

by jhon baker

I am having that week where it is near impossible to get motivated and out of bed – like the end of a too long vacation.
but the lawn is now mowed and I think even more of a condo, there is still the weed trimming and watering the newest seed and sod. I’ve already returned to bed and day dreamed another half hour away. I can return to these things later, after fresh coffee midday, after angelic visions, masturbation, time behind the typewriter, and whatever else I can do to postpone the drudgery of yard work.

listening to Miles Davis and drinking that midday black coffee there is little chance that I will recover from this mood quite yet.

somewhat changing the subject:
I have to proof my book this week or next, received it yesterday afternoon. the first thing I noticed is that the cover isn’t what I expected or like very much. If need be I can live with it as what is important is on the inside which my mood can’t stand to read though right now. I’ve read so much of my own work lately preparing for this book that there isn’t room in my heart for another reading quite yet.


when I go to tie my shoes
and break a lace, I don’t go
crazy and/or go off on a bender
where the normal narcotics are
augmented with an admixture
to include alcohol and speed.
this is not because I had a
balanced upbringing where
stability was taught and soaked
into the impressionistic brain;
but because years of being, bearing
witness to such madness taught me
that shoelaces break and
to only wear
side-zip boots.

 – Hoc Scripsi

March 9, 2010

found written on a napkin at 10:32 pm (in my hand)

by jhon baker

Life is a various separation
    of sordid identifications.
Life is a conglomeration of
assorted impersonations.

Death is a feel good retrospective
    of impersonal dogma.
Death is a bombastic experience
    of invented nostalgia.


– I wrote this, another ‘found’ poem as the title indicates. Also, this was previously published by GSR about a year ago. Thanks to them.

A few things, first – Kara and I are starting work on my book to come out this year. Tentatively titled – “hands on the hips…” – this is a shortening of the original title which was to be, hands on the hips, wet lips on the warmth – I still may go with that and the ISBN is already registered with that title. Easy to change tho. We are hoping that it does well and have been planning the signings and book release party. More info to come on this.
second, I am going to ask plainly, pleadingly for everyone who reads me to forward this blog and, in general, advertise for me – is it easier to ask – what are you doing to help me become the most famous poet in America? One cannot do this on the merit of his writing alone – we must have believers and readers who sift through the myriad of other so called poets to get to us real poets who bleed on the page, who cannot sleep at night thinking about the set of words we are working on. I am open to readings, and whatever. 
Thank you much.

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