Two new links - I hope they both work - one, on the left, to follow by e-mail and the other - on the right, to buy my book from me directly, sometimes cheaper and always signed.
edit: the button for the book works! Thank you to Kevin Shear for being my Guinea pig on that one.
Still waiting to hear if the e-mail button works.
chicago poetry. poetry for a people. poetry for a moment. poetry to satiate the need. poetry of an american outlaw. poetry for the best words in their best order. poetry by Jhon Baker
Showing posts with label poetry book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry book. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
what I felt it was all about:
on the blog,
poetry book
Monday, September 20, 2010
unencumbered
this is for my friend Troy, heal fast my brother.
also an excerpt from my book...
also an excerpt from my book...
unencumbered
I am unencumbered by two inches
of my right leg
just as Jerry Garcia was unencumbered
by a middle finger
and Indian Larry by his pinkie
I am unencumbered by thought or want
from the single life of chasing
the girls and boys around
not unlike how death rattles free
our common concerns
- Hoc Scripsi
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Book Release
inviting a few hundred people to my home on Oct 9th... holy babies bathwater, If I forgot to invite anyone that is around the northern Illinois area let me know and I will amend asap.
It is going to be like an open house as I am not sure that I can cram them all into my house at once without risking smaller peoples being crushed, on the other hand I do not believe that the majority will come, they never do.
selection from the book.
It is going to be like an open house as I am not sure that I can cram them all into my house at once without risking smaller peoples being crushed, on the other hand I do not believe that the majority will come, they never do.
selection from the book.
this is a dislocation
this is a
dislocation
a skillful assemblage of
etceteras and
etceteras
a cycle of soul drummers
and southern chicken sacrifices at
the front gate of Graceland
a loose impersonation of self
overlooking and
never sighting self
Our culture is jazz, blues
and poor elocution
a fragility of coffee house
poets and the war
machine
all
together-colored and successfully
uncollected disaffected ice cream eaters
- Hoc Scripsi
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Beard
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.
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.
what I felt it was all about:
beard,
poetry book,
ramble
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Rain
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
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
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
September 1st
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.
also,
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
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.
also,
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
what I felt it was all about:
motorcycle,
poetry book,
recovery
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
yard work and Miles Davis
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.
boots
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
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.
boots
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
what I felt it was all about:
hypersomnia,
poetry book,
yard work
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
found written on a napkin at 10:32 pm (in my hand)
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.
Three…
- 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.
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.
what I felt it was all about:
found poem,
poetry book,
Wife
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