Tell It, Mortal


John Lennon's 325 Rickenbacker with playlist

 

 

 

 

Hand cramps at 80, but not now
please – I need to crawl across
that fretboard, stinging
like butterflies and bees, you might recall
I thought at 20 I’m never
going to be that old, – skin gone slack
or anything like that, – I’ll be
dignified anyway, a new aristocrat
without the attitude
or whatever anyone reads into it
will be earned by accomplishment
a sweet arrogance mixed
with a glimpsed humility, that’ll churn –
not blown out, knees or disease
not bowed down by poverty
the best of success almost unseen
a trust unspoken
not sitting on a shelf in an urn
thinking one day I’ll burn
these are not ashes of me
this is not my flesh
there is a better time coming
who needs to rest when death arrives
not then
not ever if I have nothing to say about it
listening
oh hell
I might as well sing these things since
there’s always more to this than
greed or pride can contain
stuffed away in reality or celebrated anyhow

©Dean J. Baker

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if you check The Lost Neighborhood, Baker’s Bad Boys, Poetry & How It gets That Way, you’ll see they’re FREE for those with Kindle Unlimited, but otherwise inexpensive….

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Nobodies


 

 

 

Nobody cares but you if you
continue those lines
meaning everything outside
that zoo, and more
within its confines is considered
a truth unspoken since
author-ity’s not a given, yet
something
sometimes everything
which distinguishes
the plot to discredit the art
by throwing in a few
goobers who can barely manage
to talk let alone
scrawl lines no one else
would not want to, so you
can go missing
in plain sight where it is assumed
of course you paint
or write or make music
fireflies will attempt to dance to
or trace the design
some even building books of lies
on which a certain species dines
academia or critics
but you
you sit on the outstretched trunk
of the cypress tree, face upwards
towards sun and wind, nothing
they’ll guess
revealing points of impact
the balance of the divine, the
sad ballet of creator’s chime
knowing who
knowing who isn’t listening
without being told
it is okay or fine

©Dean J. Baker

if you check The Lost Neighborhood, Baker’s Bad Boys, Poetry & How It gets That Way, you’ll see they’re FREE for those with Kindle Unlimited, but otherwise inexpensive….

Reviews 

No Embellishments


 

 

 

No embellishments
on our vanished prisons

I see you in an old photograph
we had no reason for taking

Shadowing your house, the houses –
a detective out of work:

Listening to the voice of adjectives

©Dean J. Baker

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Hinterlands


Kentucky Farmlands

Kentucky Farmlands

If I’m alone I know
it must be my moral
leprosy: why otherwise

The old cliché that all
a lover wants is a lover:
mouthing the darkness away.

You would call it neurosis, but
who among the best
of us isn’t sick of something?

There are so few words
I want to use:
for this fearsome beauty of loss

For what is earned, and
what is not:
for all these things I do not choose

©Dean J. Baker

excerpt from Silence Louder Than A Train

My books on sale! $4.99 ebooks…  http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

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http://lifeofthepoet.wordpress.com

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