Posts tagged ‘sleep’

January 6, 2016

MOLON LABE

by jhon baker

here we are at two in the morning

2.16 to be precise

and sleep is in the past and far from me now

I eat Reality Sandwiches

and drink coffee, black, out from a chipped mug

 

I seem to be the target of spam lately

and with this I admit to the digital age

fully with handheld computers

and online dictionaries and

the classic writers thesaurus

 

and I read Bartlett’s book of anecdotes

to substitute for any actual experience

which is a lie

though I sleep away in relative safety

next to a loaded revolver

 

MOLON LABE – out from my cold dead hands

and of course I speak of poetry

long looks and bedroom post-coital whispers

it is not enough that the sun should rise

in a few hours but that the moon is full

 

 

– Hoc Scripsi

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September 28, 2014

Can’t sleep

by jhon baker

I’ve been restringing guitars and inspecting all of them to see which ones need to go to the luthier for a check up. Listening to Jazz and wishing everyone was awake and I had a flugelhorn to play certain songs, maybe I can learn to play flugelhorn and trumpet at the same time out different sides of my mouth. – why not – most people speak that way.

I’m not getting to where I want to be fast enough and I know that this is just me being hard on myself. I no longer want to participate in anything that isn’t directly related to my art. This isn’t the time to criticize my life or measure my successes. Nobody can see themselves by the drear light of five in the morning.

I am typing by the light coming from off my screen. Touch typing with several mistakes. It is a good test to see how my skills have progressed. I would practice guitar but I am not wearing shoes. This is an important part of it and I will not explain.

I am a waste of a human right now and not tired at five am but I must sleep soon regardless. Even if the clowns get me.

July 3, 2012

redacted dreaming

by jhon baker

So if I don’t write something here soon the blog might wither and die like so many flowers and friendships.

Today I couldn’t bring myself from the cozy of bedroom into the heat of the day until noon… I’ve redacted the part about my dreaming of…. and lets just say it was worth staying in bed for.

I’ve been working on poetry and while nothing has really come of it yet – I am still working on it. There are two long poems which elude me and a shorter one which is simply not progressing the way it ought.

So I am sitting outside, away from my typewriter, sweating and drinking hot coffee – smoking cigarettes and waiting for the squirrels to be entertaining. Natures clown troupe #2243.

the plane overhead does not know I am trying to listen to Allen Ginsberg

but I am cursing it anyway

Too hot to ride my motorcycle today and nowhere to ride to. It isn’t Texas hot but mid-west hot and no rain in the forecast.

Too hot to sit outside (where I am) and contemplate the meaning of withering flowers.

This is golden fleeced loveliness.

February 4, 2012

tired

by jhon baker

I’m tired as the subject heading indicated.

There is no reason for this – I am getting more sleep than I’ve ever gotten before in my life.

I’ve not been writing or painting or drawing; obviously not posting… I think I am willing to tell this month to fuck off and sleep though its entirety if not for my few responsibilities. I didn’t get that greatest dad in the world t-shirt for nothing you see.

There isn’t a light house in my backyard but I am willing to review proposals.

 

I wrote this about two weeks ago but thought to publish it now –

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June 25, 2011

woke up early

by jhon baker

then promptly took a nap.

last night the sound of glass breaking alerted me into action – pistol in hand I searched the house then the grounds around my home and my mother-in-laws – It was a sound that I’ve been dreading but there was, thankfully nothing or no one about.
After I awoke to every little noise and shadow movement perceived through half closed eyes.

most of the time these sounds and such as faces on the outside of the widow are of my minds making but K had heard it as well. I can only imagine what was going through the neighbors heads at one thirty if they saw me walking around with pistol pointed out – flashlight and laser on. I drew down on a raccoon who appeared scared shitless to have been met with the business end and a laser pointing at its head. The trigger was not pulled – otherwise this would be a story about how I am the killer of raccoons.

 and now for something of a tangent

One of my favorite artists is completing yet another painting that I want – this makes more than I can count. I only own one of his but I want more to adorn the walls of my writing room and home. His art challenges me to write and paint and love  – check him out here – HERE! – Warning: he doesn’t sell his art which is a serious loss to folks like me.

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