Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "After things fell apart"!
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
After things fell apart
just some average guy with an interesting life
quite a few times she had to ask
him why he was
so shy
He thought it was just
normal to be
shy on a first date
no matter how many other dates you've
been on with other girls
He was afraid of getting
too deep into
relationships, mainly because girls didn't
like guys who still lived
with their parents
He lived with his
father
who worked as a butcher
His clothes were always stained by blood
and smelled of salt and iron
but worst of all
was that he
was drunk more often than not
About thirty minutes into
the date his phone
rang and he excused himself to
answer. It was his father
"Listen buddy. I kinda need your
help."
"Dad, I kinda need you to understand that
I can't save your ass every time
you get in trouble thanks
to your drinking. I'm busy
right now."
"Oh? Too busy to help
your old man?"
"Bye."
"No, no, no, wait! Listen. It's just
a simple thing this time. You just have to
tell the police that your
father is a butcher and that the
eyeball they found in his rectum belongs to
a pig and not a human being, okay?"
"Dad, what the fuck?"
"Please!"
He hung up
walked back to the table
sat down
smiled
"Problems?" his date asked.
"No, no. My father asked for
a ride. I told him I can't right now. It's
okay though. Nothing urgent or
important."
"Father, huh? Must be nice having one."
"Oh, you don't…?"
She smiled. "Nevermind that. But anyway,
speaking of fathers, you think you'll
be a good one?"
"Huh?"
"Cuz I surely won't be the best
mother. See, I just found out days ago
that my ex-boyfriend got me
pregnant. You think
you'll be a good daddy?"
"Um… I think my dad's calling
again…"
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
Does it change anything?
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, “Does it change anything?“
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
answering the call
he downs the second bottle
of wine
and then curses the
beer for not
tasting as good
the rectangular desk before
him looks round
now
and his chair grows wheels
all the insects in the
apartment
crawl under the
clock on the wall
and spin the hands
backwards
lots of things are happening
but the
story before him doesn’t
write itself
The paper is still pale
the pen
still frozen
The next word will never come
out
let alone the next line
He leans back
and the demon calls from
the other side of the window
and tells him
to hurry up
“That’s not how
writing works,” he whispers back
But he doesn’t
know how
it works anymore
So he just stands
and walks to
the window
opens it
and answers
the call
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
guess we’re both crazy after all
"It's not that it was the worst
but it was very bad," the old
man said.
"I wasn't hanging but the noose
was so thick around my frail neck.
I was nine. And the
forest was
dark.
Night.
And holding me, they made my
old man dig a deep hole.
He did as they said
to buy my freedom.
They untied me then and
put the rope around my old man's
arms and legs
and threw him in the hole
and covered him up with dirt.
They didn't make me watch.
But I did.
I wanted to photograph their
faces with my eyes
to burn their smirks under my eyelids.
Well, the saddest thing about it all is
that they died, all of them were
caught and condemned to death
before I was old enough or strong
enough to hunt down and
kill them myself.
The greatest regret of my life.
The world, you see, has no true justice
It never had.
You see, young man, that's why I
can never be a child of God.
He wants us all to forgive.
I can't.
Don't want.
Will not.
Ever.
So instead of going to church
I pass out in bars like this one.
It's been my favorite lately
And you're my only friend, young man.
You're the only one weird enough to
listen to this old, demented fool's stories."
"I'll always listen,"
I said.
"Here, how about another drink?"
"Another drink, sure. Thanks.
But I'm afraid you won't be
listening to these stories for long.
I'm going away, young man."
"Where?"
"Well, to court first
and then
definitely
to prison."
"To prison at your age?
What did you do?"
The old man smiled a toothless
smile. "Old as I am, I used to have
front teeth, you know? Well, the
reason I no longer have them...
I bit a child's ear off.
It was his face.
It reminded me of them. Belonged to the
same race. So I figured... you know,
maybe he was one of their descendants.
It was the least I could do. All
I could do...
I told you I'm crazy. I told
everyone."
"Yep, but I'm listening. I'm a
writer..."
"Really?"
"No, but I try to be. Want to."
"Heh, guess we're both crazy
after all. Cheers."
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
few possessions and no doubts
he owned one pair of shoes
four pairs of socks
one pair of pants
a tank top
two t-shirts and
a sweatshirt
he’d lost the cap
in his last dice game.
“well, hell, doesn’t matter,
broke the spell,” he chanted,
“therefore
somehow, someway
luck is gonna come my way
and why not here, now, today?”
the dreams haven’t left
the dreams were still in him,
in his soul
ready to explode
47 manuscripts:
14 novels, 7 novellas,
and 26 short stories
he carried in his pack
along with his socks
his other t-shirt
a knife
six pens he stole
from the library
where he wrote
a candy bar
and an old dull razor
he wasn’t so young anymore
the beard and gray hairs
made him look much older
surely the hunger had
affected that as well
but it didn’t matter
he was going to make it
one day, some day
soon
somehow, someway
he really had no
doubt about it
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
how can you be such a monster?
he spent four weeks
away from his family
in a rented apartment
somewhere on
the outskirts
of town
he told them that
he needed this
he was a writer
needed to focus on his work
conducting his research
undistracted
his little girl would call
from time to time
asking daddy to hold his
phone against his forehead
while she made a kissing sound
on the other line
very wholesome
except he lied about
holding the phone
against his forehead
“How can you be
such a monster?”
asked the naked prostitute
sitting on the edge of his bed
“Shut up,” he said
tossed his phone on the desk
and unbuckled
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
bachelorette party
The driver:
He’s got the best chance
at survival in a car crash
That’s why he made it
and the other three didn’t
Having the seat belt on
also helped immensely
Knowing that the accident
would happen was also
a plus
Yep, the only minus of the situation
was having to pretend
he had PTSD and depression
and whatnot
for causing the deaths
of three close friends
who had talked his fiancé
into a gangbang
the night before
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
fade away
FADE AWAY
Why was there a poster in his room
that said FADE AWAY?
It’s been around
since forever
now that he thought about it
And until today
there was no reason
to even think about it
Life was happening fast
It happened so fast
that it’s been 52 years
since the day he was born
Today there was nothing left to do
but observe the poster
that said FADE AWAY
And there was nothing else to do
not because he’d done it all
but because he hadn’t done shit
52 years and nothing done
Nothing worthwhile anyway
But values change, man
Oh, how they change
One day you’re young
thinking failure and shame
and ridicule are what suck
Well, you’re not wrong
But
Later when you’re old
you realize nothing sucks more
than never risking these things
when you were young
Now this
So now you either tell yourself
that it is never too late to be
what you might’ve been
Or you sit alone
in your silent room
with no wife
and no kids
no pets
and a pension
that comes once a month
And slowly blink your eyes
at your poster that says
FADE AWAY
Also check out some of my poetry books on Amazon --> HERE!
Thank you!
Daydreaming as a profession 