Daydreaming at work again

we’re running together
through the
rain

in the big city

drifting
and sliding
flawlessly from alley
to alley
from corner
to corner

hopping over fences
and disappearing like
hares
in burrows
when we dive into
manholes

the citizens see us
sometimes
but never care

Until the supervisor at
work sees me
and bellows, “You’re
daydreaming
again!
How about you
get back to work and
try to focus for once, eh?”

I become aware of
the environment that
surrounds me. It seems
less
real
than the one
in my daydreams

Oh well, I’ll stay
here for
a while, I guess

What they don’t know is
that I’m not the
one who summons
the daydreams

It’s the other
way around

they’ll be
back in
no time

and I’ll be
happy again
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "Daydreaming at work again"! 

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

Nill

and that was the
last of them

the son

she got him in the
left temple
with the steel skewer

She could tell the kid
was expecting it
and just gave up the fight,
the struggle

it all ended in
that night

for all of them

except for her

Her life just then
began

and four and a half years
later
we from the facility
call her
Nill
and attend her daily
sermons in the art room

She tells us about the
futility of life
for the human being. How it’s nothing
but a cancer in the fabric
of reality, an anomaly
that grows and grows and corrupts
healthy tissue

but
don’t let the theme fool you

this is not about
human beings polluting the
planet and hurting it

No. It’s far more spiritual
than that. It’s metaphysical

The cancer is the human being’s
ego. The part that desires
to create things in
its own image, to serve it,
to admire it

Wasn’t everything so perfect
before?
Plants and animals and fungi
were just here. Going on about
their flat existence. It was
perfect.
But then the anomaly, the cancer
suddenly came into being.
The human

capable of thought. Therefore
of creation. The only
living being capable of
creation, capable of being more
than its natural instincts

We should have gone
extinct a long, long time ago

had it happened
everything would’ve been
pure to this day

The only salvation is
then
for all of us to accept the
truth
and be set free
in death

No matter
how
you look
at it
you can’t disagree

These days
not even the doctors disagree

She has elevated all of
us to her level

Now we know what to do
with life
as soon as we get out
of here

Soon
Many thanks to Gobblers by Masticadores for featuring my poem, "Nill"! 

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

to make a statement of what daddy meant to me

her father was a writer

Had been
Before he suicided
Overdosed on some pills or something
like that

He had a few novels to his name
and some short story collections

Other than that he
only left behind a daughter
who several days after his cremation
brought her boyfriend
to her house and said to him,
"Look, since you wanna be a journalist and call
yourself a big fan of my dad’s works,
I’m gonna give you something
to write about tonight. For your
magazine. An
article about the departed genius."

"Really?" He smiled,
expecting her to share some of
her father’s unpublished
manuscripts or
something like that. It would surely
aid in his journalist career. Put him
ahead of the competition

But
she grabbed the urn that contained
the great writer’s ashes and
said, "Yeah. Look, I’m gonna pour these
into the toilet and take a shit
over them.
You can write about it and
take pictures too."

"What?"

"Hey, you don’t meet up with a story like
this every day. Take
it or leave it."
Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "to make a statement of what daddy meant to me"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

to write about hearts being lovers

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "to write about hearts being lovers"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

should’ve been a poet

Many thanks to LatinosUSA —English edition for featuring my poem, "should’ve been a poet"!

Check it out HERE!

https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

pray yourself to sleep

you can’t unlock the door
when there’s a key
inside the lock
from the other side

right,
all you can do now is
to plead with your kid to
let you in

it’s 12:47 AM
and kid’s got school in the morning
He’s not asleep
because there was no one to tell him
to go to sleep
There was no one home all day
and this late into the night
and he’s pissed
and very hungry, tired and
full of rage

Where have you been all this
time, mom?

Indeed, where have you been?

Better leave the answer
for tomorrow
when the spirits will sizzle
a bit less

Until then
take off your high heels
and the glitter from your face
and the semen from your hair
and lie down on the
doormat and
maybe pray yourself to sleep

It’ll get better. One day
you know it will
https://www.amazon.com/stores/author/B09C46RMPS/allbooks?ingress=0&visitId=96628550-28a0-4f19-9a78-7717f0614bbd&ref_=ap_rdr

Thank you!

sub asediu


Check out the English version HERE!
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇
Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK

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


songless bird




a songless bird

that would be the nicest
name she’d been
called

the others,
far more common,
being
that little wench
your bastard kid
the little rat
useless piece of shit that came outta you
and others

She liked the term
songless bird
It was a title worthy of her in
all the good and the
bad ways

The songless bird stands
locked in her room
and knocks and waves in
the window
for she has no voice to sing

She gives silent cries to the
neighbors and
the passersby when the noises
from the other side of
her door
get too violent

or when it smells
of smoke

Which happens
every now
and then

( ^◡^)っ ♡ MY SOCIALS!

Thank you Bogdan Dragos!

j re crivello's avatarGobblers by Masticadores

I work with over 200 writers in 5 languages, but Bogdan makes everything so easy. Their sixth 100-page collaboration has arrived today. As always, we renew our agreement and in this case I want to value your support for Masticadores and thank you personally.

j re crivello

Founder and director of Masticadores

MasticadoresIndia, MasticadoresUsa and Gobblers, according to our statistics, they will exceed 100,000 visits in 2023. Thank you all!

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