My Heart A Fist


All around was destruction and futility,
my heart become a stone centering this, now
target of opportunity knowing I must
escape the closed fist clenched against
what had already crept in unannounced

except by sleeplessness amid alien shifts
of those who would not welcome anything
but all must prove obedient and adrift
while a longing for what had been pleasant,
uncomplicated and feeling missed

remained signals of the slow collapse of all
absences compressed into the mist, the
invisibility, a loss too pronounced
to be defined by sentiment capturing it
into anything else but representatives

of the good and true and beautiful
not masquerading as anything but themselves
free above the landscapes looked upon,
subject not to the evil minions of trivialities
raised up and worshipped senselessly

in an obsession with decay and cowardice
captives of all that’s ancient and untrue, yet
aware that flight is song and life not death-in-waiting
nor the traditional suicide of massed conformity
of minds closed and refusing the abyss

©Dean Baker

©All Rights Reserved

  • from a forthcoming book, Phantoms Of The Northern Forests

my books on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

“An inspired set of poems. Dean gets to the essence of a subject.”

IF YOU CAN, IT WOULD BE APPRECIATED

  NEW BOOKS COMING SOON

 

SHADOW BOXING THE INFINITE

THE NEW POETRY HOTEL

STEEL BUTTERFLIES

and

PHANTOMS OF THE NORTHERN FORESTS

Age of Extinction

Herded, micromanaged
housing units become small,
cities of the rich
cement playgrounds for crooks
politicians
after all, 10 million
lemmings can’t be wrong, nor
their detractors
this potato famine backwards
this collectivization
the new Gulag of extinction
hive and ant farm

first, they taught us how not
to think, thus not feel
except for the usual directives
we had sinned we aren’t corporate
no propaganda
unless they own it swarming
forward, forward
landscape and sentiment shifts
the cage, boss, the cage
the new Society Humaine
the needle is slim and invisible
does not exist officially

we do have the rage against
the slings and arrows
accepted attitudes of violent sheep
huddled beneath
this manufactured age
gnawing cheese, stealing advantages
not resembling a leash
yes, we are their experiment
soon to be better as usually
gone too soon before being
exchanged
for a tomorrow never to arrive

©Dean Baker

©All Rights Reserved

my books on Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM/

© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

“An inspired set of poems. Dean gets to the essence of a subject.”

NEW BOOKS COMING SOON

 

SHADOW BOXING THE INFINITE

THE NEW POETRY HOTEL

STEEL BUTTERFLIES

and

PHANTOMS OF THE NORTHERN FORESTS

 

©Dean Baker

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

©All Rights Reserved
deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

This Is How the World Disappears

From one mental defective to another
you bitch and moan and wail in
the most pleasant tones about those who
should be doing this or that, instead
legislating behavior and decency as
far as you know anyway, then

Repeating your motivation’s lost
you can’t get anything done, accomplish
what you really want in a sick consolation
of nosy neighbors blotting out the sun,
perfectly reconciled to adjusting
the expectations you have of others

While taking refuge in idle talk, gossip
of the lazy and incompetent designed
to justify the false desires of wishing to hire
some laborer and pay for the work more
easily done than complained of, draining
good will, patience and perspective

Of anyone unfortunate enough to be listening

©Dean Baker

click photo for Ebook link  Poetry & How It Gets That Way

All Rights Reserved

paperback: – Poetry & How It Gets That Way paperback

*all the books have been re-done – *****posts are meant for inspiration to own***** books: Dean Baker’s books on Amazon

Anywhere

You can be murdered anywhere, but
you’ll always die in Congress or in Parliament.

From a lack of care or indifference
to what’s said and done by everyone expecting
salvation be a ladder to Paradise, until
the stairs to another life declining repair
prove they lead nowhere but upside down.

Change will come eventually you think,
forgetting the war ongoing in everything
where slaughter is observed religiously,
statistics carved in counterfeit
register complaint surreptitiously proud.

To serve the perverted ego’s lazy appetite
for the curve of constancy, no matter what
it takes to frame familiar certainty:
mistaken for the truth still boasting loudly
for release from the cage of incessant proof.

In our recalcitrant lives something despairs,
training us for extinction as the prize.

©Dean Baker

© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

*all the books have been re-done – *****posts are meant for inspiration to own***** books: Dean Baker’s books on Amazon

©All Rights Reserved