Tag: creative writing

childhood’s villain

Father used his fists
a lot
Though never on the kids

On the walls
and the furniture
and the doors
and the mailbox
and the fence
and the neighbors
and random people on the street
and strangers in the bar
and a few times the poor dog
and one time on mother

He was the childhood’s
villain

To defeat him one had
to become a hero

and becoming a hero
took time

And today
after all this time
the villain of childhood
was dead

He died at the hands of
some other character,
a neutral one

A cop who told him to
drop to the ground
and father didn’t
so he got shot

That was it
The end of his saga

Utterly unsatisfactory
anticlimactic
disappointing
just bad

There was no final showdown
between hero and villain

because those things
only happen in
childhood
and childhood had ended a
long time ago
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171

rice and walnuts

“I fucking hate rice,” she
told me. “And I’m beginning
to kinda
hate you for loving it.”

“Shit,” I said, “what
did rice ever
do to you?”

She opened her purse
took out the pack of smokes
and fished one out
with her lips. “Fuck,” she said,
looking for the lighter.
“I think I still
have the pits in my knees…”

“What?”

She shrugged. “I was a little girl,
alright, and whenever I
did something that my dear grandma
considered naughty she’d
pour raw rice in a corner
of the room and make me kneel
on it and just stand like that for…
I don’t know, hours.”

“Really?”

“Really!” She blew the smoke
in my face. “To this day,
bitch still wonders
how I could steal her savings
from the pension. I didn’t
even need the money. I just hated
her guts is all. And now
I hate rice. And you.”

“Well,” I said. “I never stole
from my grandma. And to
this day I don’t hate walnuts.”

“What?”

“Yeah, that was my version
of the punishment. I knelt on
shells of walnuts just
like you with the rice. And I
don’t hate ’em.”

She blew more
smoke in
my face
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38

The great one by Bogdan Dragos

j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

His name was always linked to the term elusive and he was universally acknowledged as a brilliant writer and an enchanted poet. And the day came when his little apartment reeked of rotting flesh and the authorities had to break his door down.

There was no family to inform but the whole country was now his family and there would be no problem regarding the burial. Oh, he would go with a ceremony that was bound to become national event. But luckily for the authorities the media didn’t smell the rotting yet. The four cleaners who sealed the apartment and entered to perform the expertise called themselves big and biggest fans of the great, late writer.

“Can you believe this?” one of them said. “We’re alone here with, dare I say it, unpublished manuscripts of The Great One. Oooh, I’m tingling just thinking about it.”

“God, look at this room…

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12

Green Cotton Candy

.'s avatarThe Yard: Crime Blog

by Bogdan Dragos

from 07:30 in the morning and until
09:00 he stands by
the clothes store
and stares at his image in the gray window

He’s wearing a green suit
that now looks kinda brown and feels
in the same time
heavy with accumulated dirt
and light with missing patches

The people pass by him and look either
at their phones or away

At 09:30 he departs from the clothes store
and paces towards the
metro station
where he’ll spend the remainder of the day
playing the accordion for
uninterested ears

Still, some would toss
a coin or two in his hat. Out of mercy
or simply because they
were bothered by the change in their pockets

When the sun sets outside
he emerges from the underground
weighting his earning in one hand

He has a quick pace
despite never eating and never sleeping

The cotton candy stand is…

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4

New feature in The Yard: Crime Blog (Green Cotton Candy)

featured magazine literary wiring poem poetry writer reading read published publishing publisher story book feature inspiration 
Feeling super blessed to have my piece "Green Cotton Candy" featured in the illustrious The Yard: Crime Blog.


Many thanks to the editor! 


Read the poem here.
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16

all we need is love

“and I still hadn’t changed my
opinion,” she said. “I still
believe that
a double suicide is the absolute
highest
display of love there is. Think about it,
two lovers dying in each
other’s arms. What in hell
can be more romantic?”

“I don’t know,” he said, “staying alive
for each other’s sake, maybe?”

“What? That’s, like, not
romantic at all. The longer you stay alive,
the higher your chances to fall
out of love. Nothing
chews at love like life does. That’s
why death is the answer.
It’s the only way
to immortalize love. It’s the way towards
that plane of existence where all
you feel is love and nothing else.
I wanna go there!” She squeezed her fists
and eyes, braced herself as
she said it.

“Well,” he said, “We’re both out of a job,
unwanted by family, no home,
no cash, no future…”

“All we really need
is love!” she screamed, jumping into his arms

“Yeah,” he said, “and an overdose.”

“I’m with you, dearest cousin!”
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69

New feature in Edge of Humanity Magazine (fasting for muses)

featured magazine literary wiring poem poetry writer reading read published publishing publisher story book feature inspiration 
Once again, feeling super-blessed to have another poem featured in the illustrious Edge of Humanity Magazine. 

This one's called "fasting for muses" 

Check it out here



( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ Thank you!
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24

bit by bit, little by little

there were times when she bit and
chewed the inside
of her elbow

to spit the bits of flesh
and the blood
on her grandma

but those times were over

almost forgotten

along with the teachings that
her blood is poisoned
because she was conceived with the
wrong woman, meaning
not the one grandmother intended for
her father

But today all those
people were dead. Only father was
alive

He was all right. A hard working
man, busy with life

busy enough not to notice
that his daughter
is constantly sprinkling ashes in
his food and coffee

He’d almost consumed the
contents of
his mother’s urn

there’s just
a bit left
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55

New feature in Edge of Humanity Magazine (don’t trade the madness)

featured magazine literary wiring poem poetry writer reading read published publishing publisher story book feature inspiration 
Feeling blessed to have my poem "don’t trade the madness" featured in the illustrious Edge of Humanity Magazine 


Big thank you to the editor (人^ᴗ^) 


Check out the poem here
IG
Free ebook!

20

So they asked ‘what does your ideal girl look like?’ by Bogdan Dragos

j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

4779 digital pages filled
with ramblings
about feelings

thousands of
grammar and
spelling mistakes

a broken heart
consuming itself

a final 'goodbye' that came
out of a lover’s mouth long ago
still echoing in the ears

a stadium-load of cockroaches
and rats partying
in the house

a mailbox chocking
on unpaid bills

her room a mass grave
of empty bottles
snowed with ash

no income

electricity about to
be cut off

and she’s still
writing

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32

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