The Fountain

When I was a child I promised myself
since grown-ups had such big heads
I could never become them. Who
would want that impediment looming like some
some strange balloon unable to float or fly.

Besides, there was always something. One
could think of whatever did not count, another
act this way while being entirely surprised.
Some brought light. Some who broke the sky
into noise and dust embraced only tears and lust.

Others would be Halloween, seeming kind
yet flapping alive like bottled flies.
All that appeared was the buzz of lies, from
those who could not smile inside.
Happiness is on its way home some other time.

Now I peer out from this old skin, tired at
times with eyes dim, fatigue grown in as though
I’d forgotten that child. If you know
exactly what hasn’t been said or whispered,
you own the answer to all those questions unasked.

The games changed. The shadows no more
threaten: the prize never alters our vision.
I hold things close already gone. I choose
what welcomes these new born; refuse the dead
who turn to argument to forever destroy.

You and I here we know these things. What’s
unsaid, what merely seems to be; a wish kept
wild with breath, blessed with an apparent
coincidence which some suspect, others dare:
the hidden joy, the fierce trust of each beautiful child.

©Dean Baker

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‘Poetry that is classic and timeless.’

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**Dark Earth – ‘Rabelais and Hieronymus Bosch look out of dark chinks in these poems…’

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©Dean Baker

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The Long Embrace

Old habits persist:
the cold pure length of sky
provides familiar distance,
I can’t capture or decide on

Who knows how you will dance
as you are dancing now

Where I step beyond
the slightest hint of envy:
reeling, in the city streets
your eye commands, your soul retreats

©Dean Baker

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latest e-books https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBJTJFP Shadow Boxing The Infinite

https://https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBDFWGB Phantoms Of The Northern Forests

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0917TF1K9 Steel Butterflies

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08ZJLWZ13 The New Poetry Hotel

©Dean Baker

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Sonnet


Your beauty no more than I can take
My words, that show, these rehearsals make.
I seek the gathering sun in this heart
Whose mud and stone drive me apart;
As from myself I want another I, that
Shines where darkness blots my sky.
And wheels over heaven I dare not count,
Unless by substance I increase amount,
Of those faults whose relief is sweet
By perfection stealing base needs from me.
As less than human I keep safe the crown
For shall be when it is underground:
Then do I know desire alone’s no infirmity
Which meets not the match that burns eternity.

©Dean Baker

 for Ebook link The Mythologies Of Love   

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©All Rights Reserved

© deanbakerpoetryandsongs.com

 https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBJTJFP Shadow Boxing The Infinite

https://https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08YBDFWGB Phantoms Of The Northern Forests

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0917TF1K9 Steel Butterflies

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08ZJLWZ13 The New Poetry Hotel