J M Baker

J M Baker Oct 2014

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I'm longing for you.
They say "Give it time, she'll come."
But her train is way past due.
Summers end, Fall is in the air.

Written sometime in June 2011.

J M Baker Oct 2014

Yucca

I remember the day you Murdered the Yucca plant.
How you glowered over the sharp shredded remains of leaves and center stalk, which had once succeeded such tremendously large blossoms of which I was so fond of as a child.
Such determination in your hazel brown eyes.
I remember the Fable of the Avocado Sprout and the Squirrel.
The Parable of the Blonde Boy and the Crabapple Tree.
The Romance of the Mosquito and the Fly.
And best of all.
The Demise of the Kodiak and the Lioness.

Written 10/13/2014

J M Baker Oct 2014

Golden Amber

Were riding through hills
Of golden and amber
I look to you and I am lost
You take my hand, as you always do
I won't take this for granted
I've wanted it for too long
I look to you and my eyes say
I am yours
She gives me that smile
The smile I look for each time
Our eyes meet

Written 07/23/2011.

J M Baker Oct 2014

Everglow

When we wake, the sunlit morning swelling before us, I will know but one thing. When the everglow of your beauty is shown into my eyes, nothing else will matter, nothing but love.

Written the summer of 2010

J M Baker Oct 2014

The Mosquito and The Fly

The mosquito and the fly.
Perched vertically on the bathroom wall where they had often made love, they were inches away gazing at one another, but it might as well had been the distance of worlds between them.
They loved to sit and stare,
examine and speculate,
wonder and guess,
show and tell,
fly and chase,
love and be loved
and lie and cheat.
They knew what they were doing was forbidden.
Yet they soon began to fall.
Deeper and deeper, the black hole began to tear into more than just the size of a pinprick.

Written 10/03/2012.

J M Baker Oct 2014

Skeletal Clocktower

I once had it.
It was in my hand.
The moment I went to close my tattered fingers around it, to keep it in my grasp, they began to oxidize.
Not only was it as if the caretaker had forgotten to properly oil the cogs of the clock in the tower in the center of the town, he had also forgotten where he had hid the skeletal key.
The fingers began to crumble, what was once hovering within nanoseconds of my grasp had slipped eons away.
I once had it.
I let it go.

Go.

Go.

Written 10/09/2014.

J M Baker Oct 2014

The Crabtree

It's quiet now.
The crabtree slumped and it's shadow staggered across the broken dirt and cement that now seem mute in his years as a man.
Beaten down by the world.
Only a young boy paid any mind.
He once tried to eat the fruit it had to offer.
It was so sour and angry he spit the pulp to the ground.
He liked this.
The way it's **** flesh dried his taste buds like sidewalk chalk.

Written 9/30/2012.

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