Tom Baker

Joined June 2018

869 stories

Bio

Author of Haunted Indianapolis, Indiana Ghost Folklore, Midwest Maniacs, Midwest UFOs and Beyond, Scary Urban Legends, 50 Famous Fables and Folk Tales, and Notorious Crimes of the Upper Midwest.: http://tombakerbooks.weebly.com

Stories (869)

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Arthur Rimbaud: "War" and "Departure" (1886)
War Child, certain weather refined my vision: all its aspects shaded my face. The Phenomena were awakened.—Presently, the eternal modulation of moments and the boundlessness of mathematics chase me through this world, where I undergo all the victories of civil life, respected by strange children with enormous affection. —I long for a war of Might Makes Right, of unforseen logic.
By Tom Baker6 years ago in Poets
To Johnny Who Thought He Would Never Die
I remember sitting over coffee, Seeing your beautiful face Resplendent in the lowering gloom of afternoon sunset. Lit by the damp electric--
By Tom Baker6 years ago in Poets
Arthur Rimbaud: "H" (1886)
All the enormous, violent and atrocious gestures of Hortense are violated. Her solitude is the mechanism of her eroticism; her lassitude an amorous dynamic. Beneath the watchful eye of the child, there is her, and her summer; in numerous eras, she has been the ardent purifier of races. Her portal is always flung wide for every sorrow. In that place, the morality of the living is released bodily by her passionate acts. Oh—terrible shiver of new loves on the blood-soaked grounds—Find Hortence.
By Tom Baker6 years ago in Poets
Mama Blowin' in the Breeze
She sent her out, (to play, one day in May;) And in the ceiling, by hook or by crook; Next to the nook, Where they cook...
By Tom Baker6 years ago in Poets
In the Doorway
I see you standing there in the doorway, my small demonic self [as a reflection of me], What I was thirty years ago. But, not so, I want to absorb you like Bradley the Buyer
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Poets
There Once Was a Farmer Named Ed...
There once was a farmer named Ed, Who liked to cavort with the dead, He'd dig up the grave, all the better to save, A carcass he'd hang in the shed!
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Criminal
Scat!
Legend has it is that there's a porn tube that features videos of lesbians shitting all over each other. Even eating the shit. Smearing it all over themselves until they look like dehumanized, degraded, and animal-like subhuman savages. I wouldn't personally know, you understand. I'm a veritable choirboy when it comes to shit-scarfing.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Filthy
The Cloth-Covered Form
Last night, I dreamed I was holding the withered bones of an estranged relative in my arms, she being wound in her shroud. My mother, sitting in a chair with rotted teeth, a bleeding, infected mouth, begged me, 'Do not hold her thus!'; but I lie with her regardless, hearing her murmur, though she were dead.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Poets
Torn Rose
Like a torn rose, They found my love, Her form was a joy to behold; She'll never complain, she's always restrained, She'll definitely never grow old.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Poets
Justine (Chapter 5)
Sunrise and awakening are not merciful to the unfortunate. Refreshed as they are by sweet sleep, they find themselves cruelly thrust back into the world of their cruel miseries once more.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Filthy
Last Caress
Necrophilia, like incest, cannibalism and other taboo practices, is a subject both forbidden and tawdry—attracting those low spirits who wish to be titillated by the morbid and revolting excesses of the mentally deranged. Alternately, it is the paen Poe and other poetasters of a melancholy and sepulchral countenance paid to the Final Howl of Love: a searing, grave-defiant passionate embrace of the sacred form, the illusion; the fast-decaying image, or shell. Is there a yolk within the egg? That is what religion and even science asks; or rather, what religion propounds while science investigates the possibility.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Horror
Audio Excreta
I've recorded noise and musique concrète recordings for over fifteen years, working under ironic monikers such as "Extreme Volume Pop" and "Meat Glue." Yet, I actually know very little about the genre, the "scene," (such as it is), nor have I ever performed live or been to a "noise show." I know the various artists strictly through message forums and trading packages. Over the years, sending packages of cassettes (noise people often still use old-fashioned audio cassettes) to foreign locales has cost me a small fortune. But, these people give as good as they receive: I've gotten presents from people as far away as Serbian and Chile, Australia and England, and the Netherlands. In some cases, these were expensive gifts.
By Tom Baker7 years ago in Beat

Tom Baker

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Stories .css-1svwz57-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-default-mute);}(869)

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Arthur Rimbaud: "War" and "Departure" (1886)

To Johnny Who Thought He Would Never Die

Arthur Rimbaud: "H" (1886)

Mama Blowin' in the Breeze

In the Doorway

There Once Was a Farmer Named Ed...

Scat!

The Cloth-Covered Form

Torn Rose

Justine (Chapter 5)

Last Caress

Audio Excreta

Stories (869)