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CK Baker May 2
the bankers are in a bind
(hiding in the shame
of loan loss provision
and incestuous debt)
packaging swaps, derivatives
and book cover bonds
all kindly gifts ~ labelled and bowed!
emanating with a shining light
from the reclusive
and impenetrable
sanctum on the hill

seems the emperors have
lost all clothes!
as colorful delusions
of grandeur and glut
chlorinate deeply

memo takers
turn hand
on the penniless merchants
and civilian drags,
slated seniors
(with navy jacks)
all left holding the bag
as toe cutters
and slithering eels
mark the market

decency in abeyance
and hope gone terribly sour
the members of the sanctum
ratchet up their grip...
the tactics, chicanery
and calculated views
all carefully tabled
and pressed
on the waxed
and polished floors

the finger test
and cross sentiment
are the talk of the town
(as hedges tighten
and margins press)
pogeys scrape bottom
while narcissists,
cartoon politicians
and super villains
commandeer the front row

heads of state are
sweeping tracks
(like wiley foxes
in the hen house!)
deliberate in their procession
(with a pocket full
of tricks!):
acey deucy
and 2 buck chuck
cup and bean
and vanishing tops...
classic illusions that
have got everyone
spinning their heads!

the goats of the show
are plenty...
merchants of chaos
rewritten in a
perfect second script!
who can forget:
“johny buckles”
or the “one dom skilling”
“gravely” or the
“the good dr. lickatees”
prodigious ponzies
(with twisted boards)
all throwing caution to the wind!

looks like the rants
and accusations
will never fade...
those stone face regulators
will once again masquerade,
fleecing the lambs
(with pitches and tales!)
dancing deliberately
like horned centaurs
with their tumblers
and flare

the inquisition
is fast approaching
(and the deadpan
is growing old)
time to scrape
those tempests
from the temple,
and engage the
front lines
CK Baker Jan 25
Two Anna's hummingbirds, dance at the door
alongside the pane, in a mid-morning pour
whispering winds, voices through chimes
a whimsical picture, woven in rhyme

Perched on a limb (just a few yards back)
a pileated pecker, with breast of black!
foraging sparrows, partners in crime
picking out seeds from conical pine

A weighted blanket, and dark roasted brew
sipped from a rocker, with the daily news
the stream keeper watching, fluttering high
dipping and darting, at (wild) passers-by

Baseboard heaters, warming the room
four months to go, to the April bloom!
the afternoon passes, in dense gray fog
a sliver of sunshine, catches a log

Into the evening, a soft glowing light
gusts on the water, gulls take flight
crows at a distance, nestled in trees
branches swaying, to a south-east breeze

Patterns of nature,  the rhythm runs deep
those rich forest gems, to the soul they will creep
an archway to heaven, with guiding raccoons
look over yonder…the quiet tan moon!
These 2 lovely hummingbirds really did put on a show today!  In the middle of winter nonetheless!
Just like a Disney special!
Absolutely delightful!
CK Baker Jan 1
...but my knees are aching
and molar is cracked
I woke up this morning
with a hurricane back!
I’ll get to it later dear
CK Baker Nov 2019
the red wine stops fermenting
a young man turns to gray
the voice of truth and promise
leads one and all astray

we follow with a notion
of what may be ahead
that voice of truth and promise
has risen from the dead
CK Baker Oct 2019
it wasn't as though he shoulda seen it coming
(God knows he muddled through that one well enough)
and it wasn't as though he thought it in the bag
(the whole **** thing had always seemed ****** daunting)
but these now recurring tasks
and pop-up commitments
were wavering him
a great big pain the ***
burdensome, machine like
lacking, of any particular meaning

now there was that element of perseverance
that he had read and lectured on (oh, how he had lectured on and on!)
but he was not fully accustomed
(having flown on a wing and a prayer)
to the shattered routines
and fallen plans
obligatory iterations
and post-mortem like sessions
(seemed easier to stack em up, and
shelve em in a somewhat manageable way)

but a rhythm evolved
in simple momentum, and truth
new plateaus, and revelations
transformative unfoldings
and cosmic events
(which appeared as gifts from above)
and they paved a path to growth

eyes opened, to the wonders of the world!
a grounding in an earthly connection
narratives reclaimed
adjustments made
faith, and fellowship
first steps, compromise
and gratitude
filling the center stage
(in kaleidoscope colour!)
in this glorious
and ever evolving
play of life


was it worth it old friend?
you bet your *** it was!
CK Baker Oct 2019
I don't feel death coming,
no, not yet.

Neither is he going,
having thrown up his hands,
for the moment still
standing on my doorstep.

Yet, I feel like I know him
better than that,
those arms that held me
for a while, like a friend.

And when we meet again,
there will be between us
a secret bond to ponder on.

Though should he choose to tarry
upon my worn stone stoop,
I hope he will listen to my stories
of all the weight I’ve carried
for so far, and far too long.


"Unknown" HP Author
This is a past post from an "unknown" HP author...such a salient piece!
If you know the identity of this poet, can you please let me know.
Thank you, God bless.
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