So, what do YOU see when facing the dark corner?
Check it out on:
AMAZON
GOODREADS
Thank you!
REALITY CHECK – New Collection of Dark Poetry

How can you tell what's real in reality?
I don't know. But I can struggle to find out.
Poetry seems like a good place to start.
CHECK IT OUT ON:
AMAZON
GOODREADS
two Monsters
after tonight
he will never again
doubt that
madness
is ultimately
beautiful
yet
ultimately
not worth it
And her name was
Six
it’s not that weird when you’re
drunk
Though only he was
drunk
while she said she only
accepts energy drinks
They bought two cans
of Monster
from the vending machine
outside the bar
and when they got to his place
she asked him to put
them in the freezer
“But wrap them in a wet
paper towel first,” she
added. “It’s a cool
trick. They’ll be good to drink
in no time.”
“I don’t think I could
drink–”
he began
and she interrupted, “They’re
both for me.
But don’t worry
we’ll both benefit from
them.
You’ll see soon enough.”
She was pretty much the personification
of the goth style
Pretty much the first image
that would come to
any boy’s mind when
told to imagine a
‘big titty goth GF’
As they went into the
bedroom
and climbed into bed
he asked again for her
real mane
“I done did told you
already, darling. It’s Six.
My name’s Six. And it’s also
very unimportant.”
He was drunk enough to
let it slide
drunk enough to let a lot
of things slide
Though she would not let him
slide inside her
“Not yet,” she said. “We need
those cans of Monster
first.”
“What for?”
he asked
“You’ll see.
Hehe, like being teased?”
He watched her
and smiled and nodded
“I thought so. You really look
the type. And I really
love teasing. It’s the mildest
form of torture.
Do you like torture?”
“Uh… like what?”
“Either giving or receiving.
D’you like?”
“I don’t think o’ that.”
“Then perhaps it’s an
undiscovered detail about you.
Something you haven’t
explored yet. Imagine what a
shame it would be
to go through life without
knowing the absolute heights
of pain and pleasure.
To not know this
is hell.”
Again, too drunk
to be having a conversation. He
felt like listening to
someone read him
poetry.
So he just sat back in bed
naked
and watched her
and waited for those damn
cans to cool down in the
freezer
“Life is all about the ups
and downs of
the human experience,” she
went on, a dark smile
on her face.
"Yet so many people stop in the
middle. What truly wasted lives
they lead.
To never know the extremes
is a sin.
But it’s fine to be sinful. What’s
not fine is to
actively seek to avoid, to
stay away from
the extremes.
If you’re someone like that
then the gods will send you
a teacher, a guide
to show you the way.
I am that.
And I can only lead one follower
at a time, for it is
necessary that I give him my
full, undivided attention.
And all he needs is to
follow along
like a good dog.
That means to walk by my side on
all fours
while I hold him in a tight leash.
He must sit when I tell him
to sit and
look up at the sky when I tell him
to, and open up big
for me to piss into his mouth, spit
into it, put my cigarette
out against his tongue.
Like how it sounds?”
“Huh? I ain’t into–”
She was quick to silence
him with one slim finger
against the lips. “Shh. You don’t have to
fight it.
As a human being, this is
simply your true nature. It’s who
you are. Agree or not
your real self wants to touch
the limits. To go into the extremes.
It’s alluring. You can’t resist it.”
“I…”
“Look, I want you to lie down
for me. C’mon, on your back.
Lie down. Let me grab this.” She
placed her hand on his penis
and worked on
getting it hard again. “Good. Now
close your eyes. Close them
good for me
and try to relax. Breathe deep.
And accept that now, at this
time and in this place only my voice
exists for you.
You listen to it as it tells you to
imagine.
Imagine you are yourself
but in a world where you have power.
All of it. You can do
and have whatever you want. By
simply asking for it.
Now…
How long d’you think it’ll take for you
to get bored of
it all and
seek to go higher? Seek to go
into the extremes.
Remember, there are absolutely no
consequences to your actions
and you have anything you ask for.
How long will it take for you
to laugh at those
less fortunate than yourself? How long
until you rub it in their face?
Until you start playing games
with them
to amuse yourself, to relieve
boredom…
Their lives are in your hands.
Would you not command them to
walk on all fours
in your presence? And would you not
starve them to drive them
to desperation and then
feed them your feces? Piss on
them?
Would you not enact your wildest
most depraved fantasies with
them?
They’re your pawns. Make them fight
each other for a piece of
bread. Have them murder their own
children. Eat them. Have
a mother choose between fucking her
own son
or having her limbs removed one
by one. See the desperation in
her eyes
as she’s faced with the choice.
The dying light.
Have them beaten, whipped, suffocated,
cut a thousand times, branded with
the hot iron, raped. Oh, there
can be so much rape.
How do you feel about having a woman
glued to the ground on all fours, stuck
there so she can’t move
and then have a metal pipe inserted
between her legs. A long metal pipe.
Then build a fire to the other
end of it. It’s metal so it’ll
heat up, hehe. And tell her
that she has to make you cum with
her mouth before
the pipe heats up to the point of
melting her insides?
Doesn’t the thought just get
you hard?
But wait. What if she does make you
cum with her mouth
and you just let her
ordeal continue anyway, eh?
Hahahahah!”
He went completely soft
and shrank
despite her hand
trying to achieve the
opposite result
“Listen,” he said, “I don’t know
about that…”
She brought her hand
to his face
started caressing his
cheek, tried to slide a finger
past his lips, but
he didn’t play to her script
anymore
“Oh, darling,” she said, “I see
you have a lot to
learn. But I’m here
for you. There’s nothing you
need to worry about.”
He opened his mouth
and she sealed it again
with a finger.
“I think the Monsters
are ready. I’ll go
get them.”
Indeed
cold as the rest of
the freezer.
Standing before him, she opened
one can and
gulped it down
and then followed with
the other
He watched her
mute
watched as she then went into
the bathroom
and came out completely
naked, holding only a white
towel that she threw on
the bed
“Lie down and put that
over your face. I’ll piss
on you. Ever been waterboarded
before?”
He just looked at her
with the
saddest eyes
It made her
smile so bright
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "two Monsters"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
it’s no coin
coming out of the store
with a
sliced bread and a
small pack of salty crackers
he spots something on
the ground
round
and shiny
under the lamplight
He squats to pick it up
and all enthusiasm
leaves his being
It’s no coin
just bird droppings
in the form of one
He stands
turns around
walks back into the store
and comes out
a bit later
without the sliced bread
and the pack of crackers
but
with a six-pack of beer
We’d all
probably do precisely
the same
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "it's no coin"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
or is it just luck?
I don't think this is the
worst type but
it's certainly up there
the type that only contacts you
when they need something
from you
such as
to borrow money
or to sell you some
pyramid scheme shit
And it's funny to think that he
was by far the
richest guy in our group
at 23 he already had two apartments
One to live in
and one to rent out
and a pretty decent car
now all he's got is the car
He sleeps in it
and calls from time to time
and asks
"Hey, you ain't got no
girlfriend, right?"
It's not a way for him to flex
or anything
it's just his way of asking
whether or not you'd like to
spend some time
with his girlfriend
for a little
sum
of course
Yes, it has come to this
It's probably the destiny of
all hardcore
gamblers
have wealth
gamble
win or lose
gamble again until
you eventually lose
borrow money
lose the money
borrow again
win some
but lose some more
and so on
until you end up
asking random people if they'd
like to sleep with your
girlfriend for some money
But I guess the bigger mystery
here
is how in the
hell
is she okay with all that...
Seriously
do girls really have something
for gamblers
or is it just luck?
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "or is it just luck?"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
winter won’t leave already

No color, no sound,
just this grey sky pressing down
on a field that used to be alive
I hate how winter doesn't shout
It just takes and takes
until the world looks like this
My boots sink and the silence follows me,
thick and stubborn
quiet, empty,
and harder to care about
fellow lover of dark poetry
it was a very
nondescript truck
perfectly blended with
the environment
more building than
machine
it hadn't moved in
over eight years
the tires had melted into
the asphalt
and random weeds started
to grow around them
into the thin layer or dirt and
sand
I must've passed by it
thousands, tens of thousands
of times
paid it no mind
until it was
no longer there
Now where the hell was it?
Did the authorities
finally decide to tow it?
And if so
did they know
that truck was somebody's home?
I never learned his
name
but I heard he moved in
there after
the war.
State gave him enough money
to buy a small apartment or
something, but he chose that
old truck
some people are
bums by choice
Walking by
I'd see him in arid summer days
sitting behind the wheel
windows rolled down
a stumpy cigarette between his lips
a small chapbook in his hand
Never got to see the title
but I do recall
the image on the cover
't was a burning tree with one
shadowy, just vaguely human
silhouette hanging from it
He probably wasn't the kind of man
you'd want to
have in your circles
and perhaps his image dirtied
the overall aura of the neighborhood
I don't know
Don't care
All I do know now is that I'll never
get the chance to
walk up to his truck
and ask him what he's reading
and show him that I
too have chapbooks of my
own now
and I too
enjoy dark poetry
Well,
we both
probably enjoy
goodbyes
even more
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "fellow lover of dark poetry"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
fuel
he comes home in
the evening and
doesn’t
even greet his wife
she seems used to it
just like her husband’s used to
finding nothing to
eat anywhere in
the house
He’s tired and
feels like the whole world
had bullied him for
the past twelve hours
but complaining is
not on the menu
it never was
only a bottle of
wine
his wife brings it
opens it
pours
two glasses
and they start drinking
"Hello dear," he says after
the first sip
and leans in for a kiss
she reciprocates
and life
can finally begin
or continue
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "fuel"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
kid at the back of the class
he’s the one sitting
in the back of the class
wondering what it
would be like to
have the power to cause
someone to instantly
burst into flames
it makes him happy
for a while
It’s a way to channel the
inner rage
meanwhile his
grades are suffering
and the situation at home
isn’t better
but he’s past the point of
caring about any
of those
The meaning of life is to
exist as little
as possible in what the others
call reality
and get lost as much as
possible in one’s self
He’s good at it
so
for all we know
he’s living the life
of his dreams
Probably gonna start writing
in a few years
His kind usually does
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "kid at the back of the class"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
looking for reasons to doubt the voice
and this time
too
it comes out of nowhere
the voice says, "Now wait
a heartbeat.
What is this? Don't you
think you're a bit
too happy now?
The hell you think you're
doing!?
Trying to leave your
nature behind? Become a new
man?
Haha! Alright then. Good luck.
I mean, we both know it
won't work
just like it didn't work on your
previous attempts either."
I get out of bed
look around
Not for
the voice, of course
Only for
reasons to doubt it
for just one more day
One day at a time
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "looking for reasons to doubt the voice"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
online gambling
it's a trend that
never seems to want
to die
and just like most trends
I hate it
don't wanna be
part of it
and once more
I feel alone
nothing new
here
I'm not really bothered to
see that everyone and
their grandma
gambles on their smartphone,
I just wish they wouldn't be
so damn serious
about it
like it's a life or
death game
I could go on babbling
about the dangers
of technology and social media
and all that shit
but nah, I'm not trying to
sound more pretentious than
I already am
Short and to the
point
I fucking hate casinos
especially now that they're viral
in the online world
Now gambling is superior to
gaming
It's cool to be a gambler
to earn big cash
an' all that
the gamblers are the new
influencers
the super stars
It's the new East European
dream
To make it big at the slots
or the roulette
or blackjack
or whatever
Imagine walking down the
street
and you hear a bunch of
young adults
screaming at their phone screens
"Fuck that cherry! Had it
been a fuckin seven
I would've been a millionaire now.
Fuck!"
Ten or fifteen years
ago
it would not have been normal
now it
is
Tomorrow
we'll see what else comes up
But until then
I'll count myself
among the haters
and say it again
Fuck online gambling!
P.S
I work in the industry.
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "online gambling"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
he has to be stopped
the authorities keep
following him
around town
searching for him
They've been playing this
game for a time longer
than they care to remember
Thus
another urban legend
was born
The beggar poet
Not much difference between
a beggar and a poet
anyhow
but this one
angered the blue uniforms
of the town
by leaving his poems
behind
carved in the wood of
park benches
and brick walls
and in the hearts of
the week
the needy and the
indignant
He has to
be stopped
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "he has to be stopped"!
Check it out HERE!

Thank you!
