BOOKS on Sale


National Poetry Month – anybody can follow & click ‘likes’ – love poetry?.. then buy one of the books, for yourself or as a gift.

The poems and prosepoems are exclusive to the books and will not appear on WordPress. They are available in print and ebooks.

On Amazon buy the print book and get the ebook for only $2.99.

Those who have bought the books have nothing but praise for the work, for which I’m grateful.

They are available from Amazon here

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

and from Smashwords here – https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425022      https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425021

Thanks.

©Dean J. Baker

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Idles


Easter Island

Easter Island

You know when you reach the point where
you no longer can afford the twin luxuries
of anger or righteous rage; and how foolish
it would be to give out even those symptoms of
emotional abandonment – like hoisting yourself
on a pedestal, towering
til you notice stray strands of straw sticking out

All over your clothes, while your perspective
hasn’t altered, your viewpoint held close sometimes
and often not blathered out however
articulately you decorate your doubt, so those
black feathered omens don’t predicate
and rightly, that soon
you may be off that wooden stake, the hook out

 

©Dean J. Baker

IT’S NATIONAL POETRY MONTH – SUPPORT THIS MYTHICAL CREATURE – BUY A BOOK.

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

 

Ebook editions of my books are available.  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425022      https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/425021   <- …. beyond the Kindle

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The Poet As A Creature Of Myth


A "hack" poet desperate for money, f...

The Distrest Poet

 

The April Fool is of course, the poet, who
cannot stop arguing with himself, or herself
the breath interrupted to be correct, the
rhythm broken, the song thus suspect –
who has an enthusiast or two stashed away
somewhere, and even they don’t buy the books,
they look and click and comment, mere nervous
ticks in this age rife with practiced eccentricity
corrupt with the knowledge of things omitted
from view

Even more, writers who proclaim themselves
poet because fashion has its dictates
to represent the less fortunate. Those who don’t
have a place, or might not even exist
were it not for constant criticism, the tranquilizing
views of high drama – hell, might as well be some
damned unicorn, sanctified by
professors and staid truths, or morons who don’t
really read, you know though I won’t speak of
what is meant by that I’d guess

But commerce is suffering, the stores are almost
on strike with the plethora of poets,
the absence of clerks
so I’d better get busy, help you with your chores,
be a butterfly or worse so I can assume the costume
of verse: some dithering bird spouting broken
choruses, but I’m preoccupied with bagging these lines
while distractedly attempting to drink
from the source, since
I’m really on a break and the customers are so demanding

 

©Dean J. Baker

IT’S NATIONAL POETRY MONTH – SUPPORT THIS MYTHICAL CREATURE – BUY A BOOK.

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

 

Ebook editions of my books are available.

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When Your Treasure Laughs


 

Fool's Gold - Iron Pyrites

Fool’s Gold – Iron Pyrites

If your treasure has been hidden after a lifetime of spare change, used clothes, borrowed coins, in order to save it for a rainy day then you have discovered without informing on yourself that this horde you have concealed is precious and rare.
The mistake you have made, and will again, is the misunderstanding that the treasure does not represent you now, but will when it is taken out, given air, rejoiced in as another escape.

That it is your fountain of youth, your ambition of hope, a new change of clothes to go with your new occupation on that day. And you have kept it sealed and secret in order to be free from judgment on whether you ought to be putting away your sacred heart.

What you have failed to take into account is a different order, a new perspective other than the one you suppose. What is lost is that freshness you wish to capture, that passion of discovery before your shame at feeling crushed by the certainty of disaster. Which left you dressed in the rags of your belief, your profession.
When you hear the laughter it may, or may not be, there. It may only be jealous ghosts making noise as they rattle their chains of vain attachment and disease.

You say that proves nothing while you believe if there are ghosts then certainly there is buried treasure.

I, for one, completely agree, with neither the distracting discourse, or the unreasonable complaint.

I think afterwards you can likely find it in the howls of the insane, the chatter of the inane, and hiding in the everyday antics of the pirates of the pedestrian who raise no flag they might have to renounce again.

Any complaints regarding the clarity of this measure must take into account the faith allowing you to make the discovery for yourself.

 

©Dean J. Baker

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

 

Ebook editions of my books are available.

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Free – New Books


 

 

 

 

 

 

Okay got your attention – it occurred to me that I’d be better off not dishing out so much poetry on here http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/
when I have 3 new books of poetry for sale, at reasonable prices. You’ll be happy to own them.

All three books of poetry for 9.99 each on Kindle, as well as Baker’s Bad Boys.

The other books can be found on the links, bought directly from Amazon or myself here – http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/signed-booksgroup-discounts/

I’ll still be posting, just not as often both here – and primarily at these other two blogs:

http://pushmyfuckingbuttonsplease.wordpress.com/

http://lifeofthepoet.wordpress.com/

And any time a book is purchased, count on another poem as my way of saying thanks.

©Dean J. Baker

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

 

Ebook editions of my books are available.

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Justice In The World


Havelocka (640x480)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is no justice in the world
As long as I have chills when I step outside
As long as my bed is made of rock and fur
When I am caught in the terror of having
One day to die, and don’t know how

I want to make a schedule, a list of sacrifices
Endured by myself and therefore many others
Who obviously would deserve better if justice
Existed beyond the idea and scope of plan

I want to say I have amused myself
With the great writings about how to write
That I always knew, that to create I’d work
Through play and abandonment
That I can sing better than you can hear
That accounts for the disparity in our views
That I love you better than you’ll ever know
Given what I see and live in that thousandth

Of a second before the next dramatic explosion
I have always ruled invisibly but sat back
Observing crowds, the chatter of fools, idiots
Even the famous who believe their illusion

I know when I am desired by all and have no time
Creating worlds only shared by you and I
Fresh fruit and perfumes, linen clothes and shoes
That fit feet that cannot be told plus transportation
I do not have to think about or make consideration

I know that when my work is the flame in your eye
As I sit beside some island in the Caribbean
Or astride a hill in Ontario above the lake near the town
Only then will there be justice in the world
Or when you read these lines to come, and finally realize
You and those you know are exposed, that
You must listen carefully again to lose the lies
You were too busy telling yourself the first time around

©Dean J. Baker

Show your support – BUY A BOOK! Get the entire trio of poetry…poems complementary and individual

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/sample-from-one-of-my-new-books/

Ebook editions of my books are available. http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

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Rice Lake …….on World Poetry Day


Why
did no one tell me
about the poet-kings
and the slow collision of light

That summer went by,
like an unlocated sound
of night, spent
on other shores

I was too young
for fire or the gasoline banquet;
burned instead
in your different breath

The wound open
to visitors and praise;
like the list of names, only
secret to ourselves

©Dean J. Baker

-excerpt from my book The Herald – it’s World Poetry Day, buy one of my books to celebrate and support! On sale.

Show your support – BUY A BOOK! Get the entire trio of poetry…poems complementary and individual

http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/sample-from-one-of-my-new-books/

Ebook editions of my books are available. http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/