Daydream
and then, maybe, write about it
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FeaturedFACING THE DARK CORNER – New collection of dark poetry
NEW Poetry Collection – FACING THE DARK CORNER
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FeaturedREALITY 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. -
blessed to live in interesting times
she had those ridiculously
long and sharp
fake nails
that doubled the length
of each fingerThose on the right hand
were
painted silver
and those on the left
blackand she liked to
poke things with themand one of those
things was
my side
every time we sat next
to each otherat times she’d poke hard
enough to hurt her
own finger
and then would give a mock
cry and say it was my fault
and then laugh about it“Aren’t you gonna ask how
I wipe my ass with
these?” she said“Nah. I figure too many people
did it already.”“Many people? Whaaaat?
Who d’ you imagine I talk to?
I don’t interact
with many people. No people
actually.”“What about your
family?”“Familly… Yeah, I still think about
turning on the gas
in the house
and leaving them to die. They never
open a window in that
house anyway. It would make it
easy.”
She poked a nail into the
side of her head a few
times. “Ah, why am I such a
coward?”
And then suddenly her eyes
lit up. “Say, how about
you help me a bit?”“No thanks. I don’t feel like
murdering anybody.”“Dummy! Who said anything
about murder?”“I could’ve sworn it
was implied.”“Was not! On the contrary!
You could actually save
some lives if you
help me.”“Oh? And what do I gotta
do?”“Easy! You come home
with me
an’ we tell ‘em you’re my
boyfriend of years and years
and I trust you with my life
and the life of my dear ones. You
have a car, right?
Well, you can use it to take
my grandma to
church. It’s been her dream to
go there one last time, you see?
But since she’s so old and
sick and can’t move
and has nobody to help her, well,
she suffered a great deal because of it.
Grandpa can’t even move
from his bed. He’s far
worse than her. But we have
unfinished business,
him and I. And I
fear he’ll depart from this
world before we can properly
settle our scores, you see?
So, if you could take grandma to church
where she’ll be for about three
hours and then bring her
back… Well, I’ll get to spend that time
alone with my grandpa and…”“And what?”
“Let’s just say you’d save grandma’s
life. She’s mostly innocent. Mostly.
It’s the old bastard I wanna have
a private
talk with, not her. She can live for
a few more years.
So, um, we got a deal?”“My car’s broken. I’m waiting to
get it fixed.”Her nails
were quick to poke me in the
side again
“Liar! You don’t wanna do
a good deed for a
good soul in this ugly world!”I’m not sure who
the good soul was
in her view
but I’m sure the world she
talked about wasn’t uglyNo, it was
just very interesting,
that’s allwe’re both blessed enough
to live in interesting
times -
the great gambler
we all know what makes an
athlete greatwhat makes a martial
artist greata fisherman
a chef
a mountain climber
a race pilot
a painter
a hunter
sure
but
what makes a gambler
great?Now this is rarely
if ever
askedSomehow the answer, “he who wins
most and loses least is
a great gambler,” remains
unsatisfactoryIt would’ve been fine
if we were talking about
a boxer for example,
but gambling… that’s another
hell entirelywinning a lot
doesn’t make you a good
gambler. A lucky guy
maybe
but great gambler?
Not so
muchI don’t think there’s
such a thing as a great gambler
but I do think this one kid
from my hometown came
quite closeHe didn’t win or lose
or gamble a lot in the first
place, but he
was always the dumbass who said
shit like, “Hey! Bet you I
can throw this here
stone all the way over that
there branch on that tree.”
And before picking
up the stone he’d take out a
butterfly knife from some pocket
and open it before you. “If I miss,
I get eight cuts across the
arsehole. But if I don’t miss, you
get the cuts.”Or he’d say, “Look, we stand
right here an’ toss the
coin at the wall, see? The one that
lands closer wins.
The loser gets this nail stuck into
his dick hole. You in?”Whenever there was any
competition of
any kind, he’d instantly come up
with something like, “Loser has to cut off his
foreskin and wear it like
a wedding ring for seven days.”An’ he was hella serious
with that shit tooHe wasn’t the smartest fellow
in town
and I’ve never seen any of
those penalties being
carried outSoon as he came of age
he suspended all school activity
and got a job
as a construction workerI’m pretty sure he
never won any
money from gamblingYet he’s still the greatest
gambler I knowCuz no matter what
he does
he always bets on his
life -
they called him Jesus
the reason they called
him Jesus
had nothing to do with
his refusal to do drugsHe was far from
being the only homeless guy
who stayed soberBut he was the only one
who owned a donkeyit grazed the weeds around
his tent
and at times carried him
through the parkHe didn’t go around
preachingand that’s what
made everybody love
him more -
at the top
Feeling bitter again
he opens the
beer canstares at it
stares at his
reflection in the
mirror mounted on the
wardrobe door“Well,” he says with a
sigh. “If I’m lonely it’s
because I’m at
the top. It’s always lonely
at the top.
The winner stands
alone.”He raises the can
at his own
reflection and
drinks -
all he has is what the rest of us are missing
he sleeps outside
in the grass
or on some park benchdoes absolutely nothing
all daynot a thing
other than
existing and breathing
and sitting in silenceIf he gets anything to eat
from the mercy of others
he’s grateful
and if not
he’s also gratefulhe has no complaints
no family
no friends
no possessions
no wishes
nothing to strive for
nothing to accomplish
nothing to doall he has is
what the rest of us
are missingperfect
awareness of the
present momentbliss
God
-
be alive in the present moment
I don’t know how many friendships
are forged by
divine interventionall I know is
that theirs was
definitely one of ’emI don’t even know what
breed that dog
wasIt was one of the big, heavy
onesand it walked in front of the
old guy
without a leash or anythingAnd the old guy would
call the dog BoBo would turn away the
scoundrels who’d try to
steal the old man’s money
and the old man would use
some of that money to buy
Bo some foodLife in the streets was a jungle
for sureyet somehow very few of those
who were living it
were seeking to escape itThey must know something
“All I know is how to
be alive in the present
moment,” said the old man.
“And the rest is details.”Damn…
I couldn’t agree moreNeither could Bo
-
too dumb to get it?
the TV was blaring political
crap again
somewhere in the backgroundalways the same fear
inducing storybut she didn’t need
the political turmoil in the
country and the world at large
to make her feel afraidShe looked at
Leonardo, her turtle
through the glass of the tank“Soon enough we’ll be evicted.
I’ve seen homeless people
with dogs and cats and even
birds, but never
a turtle. What the hell am I gonna
do with you, Leo?”Perched on top of its wet
rock, the turtle
looked at her and not at
her at the same timeThere was no fear, no anxiety,
no trouble in its eyesit simply existed
was alive
It just was
“You’re just too dumb
to get it,” she saidgot up
and went in the other room
to turn off the TV“You’re just too dumb
to get it,” she said to her
own reflection in the
black mirror of the TV screenRight
now back to playing the
electric guitar
in her empty roomlaying in bed
drinking the cheapest
whiskeyattempting to play with
herself and failing
because of depressiongiving up
drinking some more
eventually falling asleep
One time Leonardo showed up
into her dream
as a guitar with a turtle’s
carapace
and it said to her, “Too dumb
to get it?
Hah! Says she who can’t even
live in the
now
and constantly tries to
be someone else somewhere else
in another time.
Dumbest shit anyone can do, really.”If only she could’ve
remembered
that dream -
don’t have much of an alternative
“I was raised in a strict
Christian home,” he said
as he poured
another glass of whiskey.
“That’s why I turned atheist
right after
I left to be
on my own.”“At 18?” I asked
“Nope. At 24.”
I liked the guy. He was somewhere in
his late fifties
looking forward to pensioningworked as janitor
in an office buildingand the reason they all
called him crazy was that
he swore
he saw someone in the
women’s bathroom
right after closing time
as he went to cleanA female figure standing by
the mirrorshe must’ve been real, he said,
because her presence activated
the sensor lights
in the roomIt was a story I’ve heard
dozens of timesAnd I don’t care how real it is
I believe him
because I want toI want the story to be
realHad he not
had a story like that to share
we wouldn’t have been
friends today“Wanna hear my advice?” I
asked him.
And without him saying anything
I went on. “Don’t quit.
This job… is perfect. Trust me.”“I don’t have much of an
alternative,” he said“Me neither,” I said
-
he who conquers lust
He who conquers lust
will conquer
anything elseMan, what powerful words
and what a powerful time
to remember them, think
about them, reflectIt was 11:30 PM
Closing time at the
grocery storeFew jobs are more suitable
for 58-year-olds with no
education than security guardor that’s what he
used to thinkIt gives one the possibility to
be alone while still
being surrounded by peopledefinitely easier than being
at the cash registersthe cash registers were
hell itselfHe avoided even thinking about it
so instead he
thought about the
words
“He who conquers lust
will conquer anything else.”words spoken by a teacher
back in the day when the problem of
lust was just
beginning to bud out.
Seventh grade that was. What
a timeAt 58 it’s infinitely easier
to defeat lust
than at 14but he could stand proud
for he’d done it at
14 alsoLust has been conquered back
then just as it was
conquered now
and…
what about the second part of
the saying?He who conquers lust will conquer
anything else
now where was that
‘anything else’?Shit…
Outside
in the parking lot
a man said to his kid,
“I said you could get anything,
but not everything.”Fools
both of themthe store had just
closed -
neighbor talk
I believe he was in his
mid thirtieslived with this one-eyed
gray cat
that always sat on his lap
while he
played video games“You should try Diablo 3,” he
once told me.
“Playing that game feels like
gambling.
You never know what item’s gonna
drop and it just gives you
that sweet dopamine release when it
does.
New season starts the day after tomorrow.”I declined
Told him that I had no time for
video games
for I had a job and whatnot
(didn’t go so far as to tell him
that I write in my spare time)I know that he was
married some time agobut it was all neighbor talk
If I am to believe the neighbors
then I’m to believe that
he was married to his
high school teacherShe taught English
and I guess somehow fell
in love with her studentThere wasn’t that much of an
age difference between
them. I’m guessing somewhere
between nine and fifteen yearsBut where we’re from
the problem is not that
some adult seduced her underage
student into becoming her loverthe problem is
that she, the adult, was already
married and had two childrenthe problem is
she had abandoned that
family to be with her
studentAnd I guess
they were together for
a whileMarried as soon as he
came of ageand then lived together
for a few years
and were happyBut her suicide?
I guess I’ll never know
Some stories are better
left untoldAnyway
Diablo 3 turned out
to be quite cool
actually
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Daydreaming as a profession 
Happiness comes two ways , my father taught me, BY faith, and Hard Work, enjoyed your writings.
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Thank you (^_^)
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I believe there may be a few philosophers left. Their voices may have been drowned in the multiple seas of social media but I think poets are somewhat philosophers, They dream and think outside the box. Thanks for stopping by Poemattic.
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Hope things are cool and hot DR., I’m a bit curious, I was looking over your work, and wonder if you do any strip writing ? I ‘m working on a book that will be a finish play. I don’t want it to get to much graphic dialog but need the iron words to push these concepts. Any suggestions. Like instead of B, or F, MF, I thought Bush Wet, Funk n Fish, Mold Food, well if you get a minute, Thanks.
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Hey hello, so nice meeting you! I saw you liked my post on trees, thank you so much!
Lovely poetry by the way!
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ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ
I thank you
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When I initially commented I clicked the “Notify me when new comments are added” checkbox and now each time a comment is added I get several e-mails with the same comment. Is there any way you can remove me from that service? Appreciate it!
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I am a little confused about your logic?
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Sure.. as an idea-unfortunately doomed to fail in practice, never mind eh?
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NvGaiprOcdbI
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uZyxIhpBWE
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hi this is a awesome website that you have thanks for sharing it with the world.
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hi this is a great site that you have thanks for sharing it with the human race.
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hi this is a awesome site that you have thanks for sharing it with the world.
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found you thank god
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you think he’d buy me mozzarella sticks
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you think so image
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Brantley
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Bellissimo lavoro,bravo continua cosi!!
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Very interesting site. Visually, on all fronts. Nice. “They” just posted a thing saying we aren’t real–just players in some virtual reality game. I have always done a lot of daydreaming and writing, but not much poetry. Looking forward to reading your work. Might get me back at mine…
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God, I LOVE “Fasting for Muses.”
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٩( ^ᴗ^ )۶
Thanks!
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Hello Bogdan,
You liked one of my Umbriate posts so I thought I’d drop in. Intriguing writing. Reading through your poetry I find…well, not sure how to put it–it resonates is the best thing that comes to mind. Glad I dropped by and will be returning. Thank you.
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Thank you very much for stopping by, Eric!
I’ll check some more of your stuff as well.
Subscribed 🙂
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