My Latest Books

 

 

 

 

 

 

All of my print books are available at $7.99, $8.99, & $9.99 or less, and the ebooks are mostly $2.99 with the latest at $3.99, and a couple larger books at $4.99 – a few others that are higher will be lowered in price once they come off their Kindle promotion.

Especially in the moment for the new books:

I want these books to be read and enjoyed, so the price is an accommodation to what Amazon allows to be charged with a very small sum allocated for myself – usually slightly over a dollar in case of the print books, far less than that in regards to the ebooks which are priced at $2.99 to $3.99, including the ebooks for my latest books.

You can buy the print version and get the accompanying ebook for only 1.99 and .99 from Amazon.

Ebooks at $2.99 –

THE MOON WORN TIDES, Vol.1, The Prose Poems

SOLILOQUIES OF THE HORIZONS, VOL. 2, The Prose Poems

PROVENANCES AND PAROLES

THE POETRY HOTEL

THE MYTHOLOGIES OF LOVE

THE LOST CANADIAN, VOL. 1

THE LOST CANADIAN, VOL. 2

MEASURING GRAVITY BY GRACE, VOL. 1

OUR GEOGRAPHIES, VOL. 2

TORMENTING THE MONKEYsatires

COUSIN HAROLD’S ADVENTURES IN THE REAL WORLD – satires

Ebooks at $3.99 –

CELESTIAL MIGRATIONS IN THE EMPIRE

OF THE DOMINIONS UNLEAVENED

ALL THESE BEING HINTERLANDS

DARK EARTH

SILENCE LOUDER THAN A TRAIN

BLOOD UPON THE MOON

THE TRANSITS OF REVELATION

THE ESCHATOLOGICAL DOG

Ebooks at $4.99 –

IN RIPARIAN FIELDS

OF FLESH SCULPTURES AND ABANDONED LOVE

CELESTIAL MIGRATIONS IN THE EMPIRE published on Dec.20/17, and OF THE DOMINIONS UNLEAVENED, published a few weeks ago have a companion volume:

The third volume in the unofficial trilogy, ALL THESE BEING HINTERLANDS, my 25th book is published.

None of these were rushed out, thrown together in any hasty measure, but with care and dedication combined to come together in the writing, editing, and process of publication for a period of well over a year +.
It wasn’t until I began winnowing out any number of poems that didn’t fit with the themes I saw developing that the fact that there would be a few books, and then a third brought itself to light.

Enjoy.

[these books are very inexpensive $3, $4, $5 – why ‘click’ without a decision to buy?]

©Dean J. Baker

https://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM

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Some review quotes for a few of my books – Check out what’s being said

Sweetness – by Stephen Dun

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just when it has seemed I couldn’t bear
one more friend
waking with a tumor, one more maniac

with a perfect reason, often a sweetness
has come
and changed nothing in the world

except the way I stumbled through it,
for a while lost
in the ignorance of loving

someone or something, the world shrunk
to mouth-size,
hand-size, and never seeming small.

I acknowledge there is no sweetness
that doesn’t leave a stain,
no sweetness that’s ever sufficiently sweet ….

Tonight a friend called to say his lover
was killed in a car
he was driving. His voice was low

and guttural, he repeated what he needed
to repeat, and I repeated
the one or two words we have for such grief

until we were speaking only in tones.
Often a sweetness comes
as if on loan, stays just long enough

to make sense of what it means to be alive,
then returns to its dark
source. As for me, I don’t care

where it’s been, or what bitter road
it’s traveled
to come so far, to taste so good.
© 1989 by Stephen Dunn

Stephen Dunn, “Sweetness” from New and Selected Poems 1974-1994. Copyright © 1989 by Stephen Dunn.

A truly great poet – with  any number of fine books to choose from.

©DeanJBaker

 

Fishnet by Robert Lowell

 

 

 

 

Any clear thing that blinds us with surprise,
your wandering silences and bright trouvailles,
dolphin let loose to catch the flashing fish. . . .
saying too little, then too much.
Poets die adolescents, their beat embalms them,
The archetypal voices sing offkey;
the old actor cannot read his friends,
and nevertheless he reads himself aloud,
genius hums the auditorium dead.
The line must terminate.
Yet my heart rises, I know I’ve gladdened a lifetime
knotting, undoing a fishnet of tarred rope;
the net will hang on the wall when the fish are eaten,
nailed like illegible bronze on the futureless future.

©Robert Lowell

-excerpt from The Dolphin

Just read the first two lines and know that is not only about poetry but also about how
poetry in the world is recognizable, and the contrary is true: what isn’t poetry is known as well.

The brilliant use of metaphor matched with the physical aligning into discovery: how important poetry is when with only a few lines
endless senses of intellect, art, and personal renewal can be seen and pursued in a manner that the world itself would never allow, and thus must be and remain an object of delight and study,
because in that moment of poetry where the lines resound the reader is forever altered.

For those interested in literary trivia, ‘Dolphin’ is the nickname by which Lowell would often refer to his wife.

Fitting then that I came across this volume and others I relate to it such as For Lizzie And Harriet,   Day By Day and History among others of Lowell’s great works.

©Dean J. Baker

https://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/links-to-my-books-in-print//

The mothership: http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com

In Dispraise Of Poetry by Jack Gilbert

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In Dispraise Of Poetry

When the King of Siam disliked a courtier,
he gave him a beautiful white elephant.
The miracle beast deserved such ritual
that to care for him properly meant ruin.
Yet to care for him improperly was worse.
It appears the gift could not be refused.

Brilliant work.

Enjoy.

http://www.amazon.com/Collected-Poems-Jack-Gilbert/dp/030726968X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1394995383&sr=8-1&keywords=jack+gilbert

http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/1275

My books in print links

The mothership: http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com

©Dean J. Baker

The Canadian Authors Meet by F. R. Scott

frscott1

 

 

 

 

Expansive puppets percolate self-unction
Beneath a portrait of the Prince of Wales.
Miss Crotchet’s muse has somehow failed to function,
Yet she’s a poetess. Beaming, she sails

From group to chattering group, with such a dear
Victorian saintliness, as is her fashion,
Greeting the other unknowns with a cheer—
Virgins of sixty who still write of passion.

The air is heavy with Canadian topics,
And Carman, Lampman, Roberts, Campbell, Scott,
Are measured for their faith and philanthropics,
Their zeal for God and King, their earnest thought.

The cakes are sweet, but sweeter is the feeling
That one is mixing with the literati;
It warms the old, and melts the most congealing.
Really, it is a most delightful party.

Shall we go round the mulberry bush, or shall
We gather at the river, or shall we
Appoint a Poet Laureate this fall,
Or shall we have another cup of tea?

O Canada, O Canada, O can
A day go by without new authors springing
To paint the native maple, and to plan
More ways to set the selfsame welkin ringing?

©F.R.Scott

Frank Scott has many fine poems, but this one I think applies not only to Canadian authors…

©Dean J. Baker

My books in print links

The mothership: http://deanjbaker.wordpress.com

My books on sale! https://deanjbaker.wordpress.com/all-print-books-links/

Ithaca by C.P.Cavafy

cpcavafy1

 

 

 

 

As you set out for Ithaca
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaca always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what Ithacas mean.

 

©C.P.Cavafy

 

©Dean Baker

https://writingsofdeanbaker.wordpress.com/

C. P. Cavafy, “The City” from C.P. Cavafy: Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Translation Copyright © 1975, 1992 by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Reproduced with permission of Princeton University Press.

***NOTE – I used Keeley and Sherrard’s translation for this poem. I believe the book with an intro by W.H. Auden and the translation by Rae Dalven to be the absolute best:

http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Poems-Cavafy-Expanded/dp/0156198207/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8