Outside The Window

quietly AM






it isn't early
but early enough
for air to be still
and critters 
invisible

the rose bush
is quietly red
and leaning
ground-side
heavy with
bloom.








Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker
Photo©  2012 R. Burnett Baker

Idiomatic Logic / Contrived Logic

story time 

there are two sides, it's said 

to every story.

the color of a lie 

depends on degrees of 

conscience, but each one

(the lies, that is) tells its 

own truth, its 

idiomatic logic, its 

variegated connection 

to its polar opposite. 

"variegated", however

 is the ultimate 

contrived logic. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Photo taken by R. Baker, Lamberton Conservatory in Highland Park, Rochester, NY

Sunrise, Sunset

you/I/us 




how similar are 
sunrise and sunset 
colors, (discordant 
echos removed) eyes 
sounding tiny streaks 
of light 


radiant and glorious 
as each second's 
birth? 


close your eyes: 
inhale the fragrance 
of magnificent sameness
in our differences. 




Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Photo taken by R. Baker, Lamberton Conservatory in Highland Park, Rochester, NY

Keeping In Touch: Gathering Our Lives...

gathering lives 




so for years 
we have known
and been content
in the knowing 
of each other. 


the second hand 
is relentless, though,
and for once 
we must stop 
gathering details, 
and fix a gaze 
on one another. 


we must, 
for surely 
the sun will rise 
and muddled muffled 
dreams of sleep 
will fade and 
our memory will 
be that of 
abstractions. 


we will question, 
then, 


whether we 
dream in color 
or black and 
white. 




Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R. Baker, Lamberton Conservatory in Highland Park, Rochester, NY

Magpie Tales 119: Denial

in this death
together




the search for clues
began. never had 
they considered their
own closets, or under
their hats.  hiding 
valuables in shoes 
was common but 
uncomfortable, 


so no one could fathom 
why she walked so far 
for so long, then sat 
staring at the table


as if to bring him 
back to life; or why


her eyes gazed fixed 
on the sky, unblinking,
glazed. 


denial is the first step to 
abdicating responsibility. 




Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Painting:  House At Dusk, 1935, Edward Hopper Shared by Tess Kincaid

A Flower In Every Season

unfazed 




there is satisfaction
in playing nature 
against her moment, 
standing tall when
out of season;


dancing under 
storm clouds 
waltzing the
horizon; 


basking in sunlight
diving into night;


in placing one smile
against  the stem of
wagered
odds. 




Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker
Photo taken by R. Baker, Lake Buchanan, Texas.

Reflection In The Sand

(un)natural

when we came upon the carcass,

dust and maggots in mass, the heavens 

opened to tears and prayer, silent

though they were, 

and no one dared speculate on 

cause or danger ahead. each 

piece of flesh that becomes 

nourishment becomes a gift to 

something, these creatures, 

this earth of recycled givens 

taken for granted 

by sheer existence. 

decomposition is the 

creation of chaos, 

the bundled horror 

of what we imagine 

as our fate.

Poem ©2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo ©2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R. Baker, October, 2011 Lake Buchanan, Texas. 

Home

homeward






this house picked me
            as much as I it


in softlight prose 
walls unfold their past
            my future 


one moment 
            forward.






Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo taken by R. Baker, Rochester, NY

Magpie Tales 118: Send In The Clowns

The Circus With the Yellow Clown, 1967, Marc Chagall

Shared by Tess Kincaid

high wire 

wasn't that the shits? 

coming down from a 

night high - booze, maybe 

pills - 

coming down to realize 

the one you picked for 

a one night fling wasn't 

that hot after all 

wasn't that the shits? 

that he fell in love with you

and sang your songs, the 

radio on - wasn't that 

just... 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker

Necessity

"A twig in a bird’s beak

is recompense for simplicity of 

a living need."

-Rick B. Baker

©2012 R. Burnett Baker 

In Search Of Arthur Rimbaud

Self Portrait by Julian Hakym

young poets 

and 

old cafes

the view is always piquant street-side.

curled scenes through 19th century glass, 

quaint as they may be, age the extant complexion 

our faces reject -  visions words demand 

from devotees and suitors alike.

verses in porcelain chipped-edge cups 

color each word red, shaded by your mouth 

of desirous flesh, caffeinated and smoke-fragranced, 

each line capturing an audience in silence. 

cobbled streets collect rainwater and tears, 

rounded stones whetted for engraved words, 

and you offering discorded glances 

to potentialities:  "have a light?" breaks the ice, 

but your lips are frozen unto themselves, 

sealing opportunity to ethereal imagination.

we shuffle across weathered floors of ash-strewn 

rhymes, eye contact engorging our neurosis, 

burning this agony of want onto paper. and yet, 

orgy lust is but a book cover away from open, 

those dead and dying poets, kept neatly under 

your hat, the one you wear to make you "older."  

young poetry is much too avid  to be dark. 

brooding is for jaded eyes, echoed hearts;

yours simply beg cupidity for quenching. 

caffeinated mid-day angst in peppered

vignettes of your latest fling or love affair,  

is punctuated by smoke-stained cuticles 

shaded amber by needless habit: 

that will suffice for now, for

as long as tobacco smolders quietly

between spring's willowed fingers 

and an old soul's 

reason. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Window photo taken by R. Baker, 2009 in Ithaca, NY

Magpie Tales 117: Arrangements

"The Meal", 1891 Paul Gauguin 

Shared by Tess Kincaid 

renderings 

there must be 

emotional significance

in how we place pillows 

                   on a sofa,

or exhibit art 

                   on walls, 

angle our favorite chair,

or position food in bowls 

                   on a table. 

an emotive response 

to arrangement tugs our sleeve

like a child asking the 

same question repeatedly...

we cannot tear ourselves

away from these 

                   solitaire efforts 

of enlightenment,

inward renderings of self, 

and quests for 

                   significance. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker

We Return To Our Regularly Scheduled Program

outlined

a full moon 

      rises

all life  

outlined 

      in silver.  

Acrylic on canvas painting 24" x 36"  untitled by R. Baker, 2008.

Poem © 2009, 2012 by R. Burnett Baker 

Poetic Justice: No Issues Please, Just Causes

Image borrowed from: http://worldthatchangestheworld.wordpress.com/

I'll Say It Again

We don't elect the president.  The president is appointed by the elite industrialists/bankers who comprise the Trilateral Commission, Bilderberg Group, and the Council On Foreign Relations. 

But we vote for the president, as well we should.  It's just that the American public is not motivated enough to rally and demand that the jackasses in both houses of Congress, and within both political parties actually do their jobs of REPRESENTING US.  But let's not get into all that here. 

Today in the news, and tonight on network TV, one of our local TV anchors reported on President Obama's flip-flop view on same-sex marriage, and Mitt Romney's ongoing opposition to same-sex marriage.   I suppose for Democrats this is a flip-flop that they can wear:  The campaign shoe fits?  For Republicans, Romney can continue to parrot the tried and true but tired right-wing garbage about the sanctity of marriage (Forget about that 43% to 50% divorce rate) and the family. The above mentioned anchor said that "...gay marriage will be an issue during this 2012 presidential election." 

How the freak many times do we need to be reminded that GAY MARRIAGE IS NOT AN ISSUE.  IT'S A CAUSE.  ABORTION IS NOT AN ISSUE.  IT'S A CAUSE.  A FLAG BURNING AMENDMENT IS NOT AN ISSUE.  IT'S A CAUSE.  DOCTOR ASSISTED SUICIDE IS NOT AN ISSUE.  IT'S A CAUSE.  WEARING FUR IS NOT AN ISSUE.  IT'S A CAUSE.  A stupid one, at that. 

We should not be voting for causes in national elections!  We should be DEMANDING that both parties, and both candidates tell us what the hell they are planning to do about poverty, hunger, education, taxes, energy policy, economic policy, trade imbalances, North Korea, Iran, and oh yeah:  WARS. 

Jesus H. Christ, people, get your heads out of your asses, your eyes away from your iPads, and thumbs off your text messages and pay the freak attention!  And this can be directed to the voters in North Carolina in particular who were voting this week on banning gay marriage.  For once in your increasingly meaningless lives wake up and think about, oh I don't know, let's start with the news story I posted on this blog yesterday that no one, still, seems to give a crap about.  I won't tell you here what it is:  Click on to my previous post and read the damned article! 

If gay marriage is a campaign platform for Obama and Romney, then my point is validated by the meaninglessness of this cause.  They (the candidates as representatives of their parties) will be discussing this cause as an emotive diversion to ensure that the voting public won't think about or ask questions related to the above mentioned ISSUES.  

If we loose our freedoms as provided by our Constitution and Bill of Rights, it will be poetic justice.  It will be we the people who, having been bought out by causes and toys, let it all be taken away.  

This IS, after all, a poetry blog.  

Rick Baker 

May 9, 2012 

Rochester, NY 

© 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

You Couldn't Care Less, Right?

‎"We're free, until we're not anymore."

-Rick Baker

I personally hold little, if any, hope for the future of freedom, liberty, and privacy in our country.
Read THIS, please. 

Magpie Tales 116: Life Flows

Image: River Irwell by R.A.D. Stainforth

Shared by Tess Kincaid

water flows 

clinging to the riverbank

                  water flows 

not waiting for decisions 

to let go 

or hold fast. 

rushing currents 

                  push and pull at once 

and at once I'm breathless 

dry land above my head 

                  and out of 

                  sight. 

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

Spring Breezes

skysongs


face the wind, song of nature, 
fly soft against
            its bite and roar.


give thanks for life, 
a rush of breathing, 
skysongs flow 
            forever far. 








Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 

City Scenes XII: Civil Freedom,Urban Decay: A Balance?

anarchy of self 

warning signs are everywhere, but 

nowhere do we seem to care about 

what or  who they  were  originally

meant to protect. 

the beginning of the end, perhaps, 

is too much reading between lines,

too little respect for original intent.

Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photos©2012 R. Burnett Baker 
Photos taken by R. Baker on Monroe Avenue, Rochester, NY March 18, 2012.