Posts tagged ‘quite possibly a ramble’

« Older Entries  |  
September 1, 2024

ark

by jhon baker
Painting by Micael Chadwick


I wanted to build an ark,
so I built an ark.
I wanted to sail across oceans,
so I sailed across oceans.


I sailed to darkness
but failed to die.
broken
in pain
a fine madness
with the world colored beautiful
and sky an unfailing blue.


I left the city.


left behind Clarke and Belmont homeless
polishing leather walking
boots.
I left being street lamps
sitting in corners
under flat light of despairation.
left the window washers
tattoo parlors
left the cafes where young boys,
old boys laugh easily with homosexual motive.


left traffic, redlight, abandoned buildings
art houses, dance studios, opium dens
unlit coffee joints, bright coffee chains.
huddled, dark under evening porticoes
seeking out soporific dope;
a prodigious blindness.


2.
drunk on red wine or whiskey;
memories illuminated or fabricated
in winter where crocuses have no bloom
and life under the crushing weight
of foreign language operas
arias
elegant gibberish.


and so in love
beyond years or measure
youth or less.


belletristic notions
left in black notebooks
filled with variations
of you
as subject or apparition
in white dress
silken veil
with shoes off.


the under currents of sex
and whispered echoes of joy
with pornographic limp.


a Spanish tango.


3.
it’s all faded jazz,
blue paintings.
innumerable waves lapping the hull.
bow pushing out, cutting
untraceable patterns, pathways
away from the city, suburban landscapes,
rural forgottens and flowered forget-me-nots.
a miasmic noise,
a constant playing, discombobulated
music on old vinyl.


vibrant, beatific –
and sky, cerulean,
wisps of sundrenched rain clouds,
formless platitudes,


scenes from childhood
filmed in dream sequence
a moment rewound, rewound
played forward, backward, inestimable.
sweet, sad trumpet, an instrument of my childhood,
sings effortlessly, mellifluously
Sketches from Spain
gentle sweep of the sails and calm seas
with the world colored beautiful
vibrant, beatific
and sky an unfailing blue.

Posted in Long poem, mental illness, painting, Poetry | Leave a Comment »

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
January 3, 2012

My truck is broken

by jhon baker

Sitting in the Hospital now with my MIL getting her daily infusion of antibiotics I am reminded that I am going to give up a vice soon. Smoking. We will see how that goes as my commitment is only to the money I’ll save and the example I’ll set for my boy. Problem being that I like to smoke, enjoy it most of the time but winter makes it hard to enjoy as we do not smoke inside the house out of respect for our son and cats – they’ve opted to not smoke so why should we be damaging their lungs – we are already corrupting them mentally and emotionally – why physically as well?

I am also thinking of my Ford F150 is not running correctly – badly in fact. Pretty sure that I’ve blown another coil, maybe two and that this will cost me a few hundred dollars at least and be a complete pain in the ass for the next day or so. I’ve been thinking of getting a newer vehicle, something lower to the ground and better on the pocketbook in terms of fueling costs and the truck isn’t making it easy for me to keep it. Is it a sign? probably no, if anything it is a sign that the feelings of the truck are hurt by my indecision about replacing it – mostly on the side of drive it into the ground but I don’t like it when they start to cost money for repairs.

a link: poetry another link: more than just poetry but my poetry

go to that link – read a bit, fall in love with my poem and others – print out a few copies and hand them out to complete strangers for nothing but the joy of force feeding people the beauty that exists around them always.

Where was I? In hospital, thinking of my truck and health in general, and then poetry always comes at odd times and sometimes like an erection in church, unwelcome and possibly improper. But for this we are thankful which is what makes it the most odd – thankful that poetry in the mind is like the massive erection in church or the day you decided to not wear underwear in jr high and had to go to the blackboard after rubbing the wrong/right way, laughter ensues and the pink never leaves your cheeks again so you grow a beard in your freshman year and learn to tolerate or kill, at least maim a little.

but that never happened to me.

I saw it on television which is as good as a memory of your own.

this post has no direction.

My MIL has been stripped half naked in the infusion lab for an impromptu change of her wound dressing because her wound vac wouldn’t shut up which is because it wasn’t actually working – only pretending. Poor woman.

time to go smoke.

Posted in Othe blogs and other interesting things. | Leave a Comment »

Tags: , , , , , ,
May 16, 2011

This is clearly a post while avoiding an actual post

by jhon baker

I’ve managed to sit back at my typewriter these past few days and get out a few letters I owe to some folks – if you are one of those folks – it’ll be in the mail today.

There is the greatest amount of unfinished poetry in my box right now and as where I’ve the will to finish it, I’ve not the words or the clarity to see where the fault in the line lies.

I’ve been avoiding the dentist because I am in no pain – even when I eat a candy bar, which is unusual. However, after remembering all the pain control medications I am on I realized that I wouldn’t know if I were in pain or not unless it was as severe as my leg/hip/back/foot. There is a dentist appointment in my future.

I’ve been selected, without application, as the parent representative of my kids school to interview potential principles along with two teachers and the superintendent. It will be his final choice but my voice will be heard. Quite an honor to be chosen out of 1400 parents – some of whom requested to be the representative. I love interviewing and was always good at it, would have been a police officer if I wasn’t so damn distrusting of them.
Some say it is best to change the system from within – I disagree as once you join the group you are part and parcel of said system and gain, though human tendency, a sense of amity and understanding within the group.
people are resistant to change and may villainize the agent of even the most positive of changes.

if never tested, principles mean nothing and have no value.

broke one of my favorite coffee cups today – it had the definition of ‘nascent’ relayed in a humorous fashion.

sometimes there are things for which no other person can relate without being in situ, alongside your experience. This is the struggle of my poetry about pain.

a recent poet needs to be wrought into shape as a poem – it was that good.

this will receive no such treatment.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

Tags:
April 26, 2011

by jhon baker

Woke up late and decided that the coffee was perfect. Made a few phone calls and decided that I still need a new phone but am really trying to make the one I have last as long as electricity is being used. Perhaps even longer.
Waiting on a letter or two and needed to write two myself – or three but one would be to a person no longer counted among the living. I write her anyway because it makes me feel whole – or at least less wandering.
There is nothing wrong with being a wanderer or a traveler  in this world – what am I looking for? I’ll tell you when I get there, this will possibly have to be a postmortem conversation.
Like the one I had with the raccoon the other day.
I’ve recently sent two books out that were purchased from my paypal link to the right. I hope that they arrive fine and I’ve learned that Hardcovers need to either be sent media mail or priority, this ends me spending more on priority as I think media mail is for suckers.
Oh, well.
installed a new printer yesterday. Bought because the old one stopped communicating with my router. The new one didn’t communicate with the router either so I have determined it was the router, which only needed to be reset. now I have two printers but this is okay as my writing office is moving to the lower level of the house – next to the bar – and there is no printer down there for my laptop or to copy things which is all I tend to use the printer for. A copy machine.
Yesterdays poem must have sucked as the comments were too specific. I might rearrange it and do without the third and fourth section.

I long for slow waltzes in the company of my imagination.

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments »

Tags: ,
« Older Entries  |