Addiction

Watching as he crumbles down, He waits
to feast upon his moulder and decay.
He finds it in his eyes, a perished shade
amongst the cadence fragmenting to flakes.
For his fate he’ll take upon His varmint veil
earned when listlessly wondering for days.
The darkest of those could write chapters they say
of addictions and a legacy repaved.
For his sins He’ll provide purgatory again
just to see the hues of fatality it makes.

Now his skin no longer feels the rain
and harder it becomes to stay awake.
With wider eyes perhaps he’ll starve the grave
or with a craving he’d find it just the same.

Jordan Baker
2015

Well Wishes & Just Promise Tonight.

When I look back over my 2014 I simply can’t believe how much my life has developed. Writing aside, I am in a fantastic place, happy as ever and looking forward to my future. As for the writing I wouldn’t say I’ve moved as many steps forward as I did in 2013, however am building the solid foundations of Blueprints by the Sea as well as pottering on and experimenting with other projects. In the end, that’s what I wanted for myself following Tears From Abaddon and I’ve enjoyed having the shackles off my writing life. As we enter next year there could be some huge developments, so stay tuned for those. In the mean time I just wanted to take the opportunity to wish everyone happy holidays and all the best going into the New Year, as well as thank you all for your support, reading and following of this blog and my writing in general. I only wish I could share more with you all.

But for now I’ll leave you with ‘Just Promise Tonight’ and wish you all the best.

Jordan.

Just Promise Tonight

Rest on me as I’m enchanted
by that look 
in your eyes,
captivating and alive
with the beauty
of a clear oceanic sunrise
and a divine aurora of me.
Take me as your haven
and I’ll take your hand,
for no one could appreciate your love
the way I can.

For it I’ll carry the world, hold it over head
and for our times throw it far away
so you can live, just be.
Just promise tonight you’ll dream of me.

Should dreams be scarce, here I am,
come close and into peace with me,
under the stars, feel their glow
and of my love please understand.
I’ll tell you again, until you know
just promise tonight you won’t let go.

Into The Red

Where has the time gone?
Once we had many hours ahead
down by the quay, where the river
meets the sea, its present morning
blue has faded into the red.
How will the people speak
should technology fail?
Would it be like a reflection
without a mirror should present
words be said?
It is moving with the seasons-
where once we walked through
guards of green has now
faded into the red.
Quickly it has come, and finely,
subtly just as needle swallows thread.
Beyond your eyes we have wandered,
followed, aged and fled.
Slowly we are moving,
fading into the red.

Jordan Baker
Nov 14.

Drafting Thoughts

Sometimes I dream aloud and fall awake
and as the world revolves won’t always feel it turn.
Sometimes I un-write words and comfort pain,
afraid of flames but destined to burn.
Go ask your God what he’s doing today
whilst he watches the un and reality of life.
Try to feign interest in words he says
and let me know if Heaven’s always bright.
Go ask your God what he’s thinking today
whilst he listens through the urban vaults.
Try to understand why He feels His way
and let me know when Contrition starts.
Ask if when blissful memories are tainted,
discarded into surplus on papered streets
shall we gather by oceans with sinners and quitters
and throw our ghosts into the sea?
Would this achieve release should we repave
over the world’s dysfunctions as it circles
around the all-lasting and sought-after place,
away from that of haunted and hellions?
Until we know we shall do as before,
discarding all virtue like our papered streets
as the tides of our lives tear into the shores
and we throw our ghosts in the sea.

Jordan Baker 2014
Blueprints by the Sea

The Storm: Epicinium

And the rain begins to fall.
Tidal rays and violet veil,
comes forth an inland call
and a semblance on the blue.
A pattered baptism as the dark builds
over lanterns of pallid hues
forming at my footsteps where
hardships and repose thrive.
I speak to the night in broken verse
until there is nothing left to say
and we’ve unwritten the words.
Howling with the haunters,
regaling with the haunted souls
flickering into substance
and drifting through the grave yard stones.

June

My mind has been awash with wondering about where my writing career is over the past few months. More so, where do I leave it and where do I pick it back up? What do I do next and am I ready to take the next steps? I believe an artist’s mind never shuts itself off; no matter what else is going on in there it will continuously provide inspiration and insight necessary to be written on a piece of paper (or in my case a memo in my phone). 

It would appear, and in truth I accepted it as true on occasion, that for now at least I was stepping back from this aspect of my life. I have been less active in all senses of writing, including my blog. But the next steps have continued to be put in place; when they will formulate I don’t yet know and I will take my time in putting the pieces together. Perhaps over the last couple of years I have exhausted my brain with the desire to succeed, even if to a large extent I did succeed. 

The plans I made following TFA’s release are still on my agenda. I have some fantastic ideas for pieces of writing and have continued to work as I have felt the need, even when their creation’s reasons seemed unclear. When it will be completed I do not yet know or worry about, but my next collection of poetry will be called ‘Blueprints by the Sea’ and in large it will be a ‘resurfacing’ of These Waters as I’ve discussed. I will hopefully continue to update my blog with news and extracts as I go. 

All my best to everyone,

Jordan. 

When You Lay With Me

I stand overlooking under a gaze of Heaven’s own.
Its showers are clichéd of the episodic loss of faith
drifting down just as Neptune’s cold blue kiss
through the systems like crystals on my wrist.
But when you lay with me the silks of summer
and afire breath of life slip through my compact crypt
carrying me through the underpass of lives once seen
and bear my bestirred body into this age of Holocene.

-Jordan Baker
June 2014

Blueprints by the Sea

Blueprints by the Sea

On many days before our own I would take my wits
and walk to kill whiles and desolate summer truths.
I would be besotted with new paths I traipsed
as my world was filled with enough beauty that
I believed there was something worth locating
in its cute but pallid blueprints by the sea.
For my place was gyred by waters as if to keep
me caged, pondering their artistry, wander them
and write words in marvel and despair.

I remember the breeze would stand still long enough
should I stand there idly and just observe
that I could waste away my days in acts and in mind.
Between its bursts would come whispers within
the cracks of the waves but it was voiceless.
I knew still how it whimpered sorely as if there
was not enough spirit by my side to hamper.

It was only once I could share my world with you
and walk you by my waters with hands enlaced
that I could see the extra colours by their banks.
Those solemn spring-grown buddings
quickly faded from white to shaded hues.
And in such moments it seems only fitting
that the sky be bluer and the Sun burn golden
more so than ever on me before.

On such days I’d make a promise
never to let those colours tarnish
and to cherish each footstep on the shores.
On such days I’d make a promise
never to leave my spirit barren
or forget the splendour of our world.

Jordan Baker
2014

For never can These Waters be Revisited with the same resonance again.