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▶️ BASA: POUR WHISKEY OVER MY HEART AND SET IT ON FIRE | Bogdan Dragos
2022 | © tea solon
Mandaue City
Philippines
Taking a short break from doing translation work and now devouring Bogdan‘s 2020 poetry collection PourWhiskey Over My Heart And Set It On Firewhich carries with it the signature images that scandalizes, tears, and undo me every time. I love how Bogdan’s poetry disturbs the psyche and annihilates moral boundaries that sometimes Boccaccio’s The Decameron comes to mind and marries every heinous psychological thriller film there is. Great afternoon read!
a big hole in the ear lobe by Bogdan Dragos
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She pointed at the
big hole in
her ear lobe.
“Yeah, I tried putting
a horn through it.
Real piece of horn from
a bull, by the way.
But problem was, after I got
it in, well, it just
didn’t look as cool as
I thought it would. It
didn’t look
like a horn. More like a
dick. I don’t wanna
walk around with
a dick in my ear. And now I’m
stuck with
this hole. I like it,
but I’d like to
fill it with something.
Something cool, you know?
What would you put in it
if you
were me? Oh, and don’t give some
witty answer like ‘common sense’ or
‘a brain’ or some shit
like that cuz I’ll leave
right away.”
He said nothing. Just watched
her, eyes
fixated on the large hole
in her ear lobe
She snapped her
fingers. “Hey, you alright
though?”
He said…
View original post 145 more words
Shoot Your Questions at the Abyss by Bogdan Dragos
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there is one supreme
blissful presence
here
it’s night time
I’m in my element
Freshly awakened
after a day
of sleep
I’m not a vampire
I only used to wish I
were when
I first started living like
this. What can I say, I
was young and playful
Now I know I’m
something
worse than a vampire
My grandmother calls
me a blasphemer
because
God has left day and night
upon this Earth
for work and rest
and I laugh in his face
and piss on his blessing
by using it in
reverse
I sleep in the day
and use the time of
night to
wonder and to ask
why he had created me
the beauty of seeking
answers in the
night is
that you don’t have
to use your voice
writing
will do
You won’t get the
answers, at least I didn’t,
but it feels good…
View original post 72 more words
Azi m-am apucat de scris
ENGLISH TRANSLATION: There were times when I got home threw my backpack in the corner took off my shoes my jacket walked into my room took off my pants, my shirt put on sweatpants, another shirt turned on the PC ate a bag of salty potato chips drank whatever I could wasted time I was happy in those times Today I write.
de Bogdan Dragoș
Erau vremuri în care ajungeam acasă, îmi aruncam ghiozdanul într-un colț al camerei, îmi dădeam jos papucii, haina, intram în cameră, îmi dădeam jos pantalonii, tricoul, trăgeam pe mine ceva pantaloni din ăia largi, alt tricou, porneam calculatorul, desfăceam o pungă de cipsuri, beam ce puteam și pierdeam vremea. Eram fericit în acele vremuri. Azi însă, m-am apucat de scris.
Volume publicate:
Pisica din papuc
(っ◕‿◕)っ English version HERE
de Bogdan Dragoș
Camera era rece și flori gri de mucegai înfloreau pe pereți. Și-a dat jos papucii și aceștia fiind cele mai calde lucruri din cameră puiul de pisică se adăposti într-unul din ei. El stătu pe o saltea în colț și mângâie pisica din papuc. Deodată, zâmbi și zise, – Eh, măcar n-am datorii. Până și Dumnezeu a fost de acord cu el. I-a făcut cu ochiul prin gaura din tavan.
Volume publicate:
Poem postat inițial pe https://gobblersmasticadores.wordpress.com/
lovely hands by Bogdan Dragos
there's been a collection of rather dark thoughts lately and he was studying it from the comfort of his bed The other day he found a good pillow in the dumpster and used it to cover the spot on the mattress where the rusty springs emerged Now the bed was fine again good enough for daydreaming After you've tried out all herbs and powders all that's left are the dreams the daydreams and the nightdreams and the nightmares and the daymares On another day spent dumpster diving he'd found a plastic bag with about six severed hands They were still cold some mafia shit was going on in the city He took them home and tried to cook them hoping to obtain at least some bits of meat He had no pan and of course no oil so he impaled them with iron rods at the writs and placed them…
View original post 95 more words
Bogdan Dragos
fruit flies and eternal love
sunny day outside
streets full
of people seeking water
and cold beers
overcast day inside
the cold, irregular walls
of the basement
in the abandoned building
The clouds are alive
and very annoying
She slaps his forehead
with a sloppy hand
soaked in vomit
“Ouch!” he screams
And she says, “I can’t stand
these fucking
fruit flies. Why must
they follow everywhere we go?”
He turns around
on the wool blanket and
shoves away a few empty bottles
of cheap wine
and
drops his head onto
her naked lap. “Because, baby, we’re
putrid. You and I, we’re both
dead on the inside
and out. And the fruit flies
love the smell
and taste of our bodies. Especially
when they come
together and sweat a lot.”
His hand grabs at
her upper thigh
and the fingers
tap playfully along the
piano-key-like cut marks
that adorn it
View original post 333 more words
fasting for muses by Bogdan Dragos
well it’s been about four days of fasting Four days of eating nothing but smoke from his cigarettes so it was difficult to tell whether the woman who sat in his bathtub and smoked some of his cigarettes and watched him writing on his desk was real or not “Of course I’m real, you dumbass!” […]
fasting for muses by Bogdan Dragos
tarot reading by Bogdan Dragos
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She was sucking on a red lollipop quite loudly and would constantly take it out of her mouth to stir her whiskey with it She wore round sunglasses a crimson bandanna her hair in thin dreads and all her shirts were sleeveless She took the lollipop out one more time and pointed it at him across the table “You want some?” she asked “Um, no thanks. I, uh, stay away from sweets.” She dipped the lollipop back into the glass and stirred a bit then put it back in her mouth “Good for you. I’m not too fond of these either. Just use ’em to help me break the smoking habit. It’s been working lately.” She picked up the glass and took a sip of the lollipop-flavored whiskey “Anyway, like I said, I brought you to my place to read your tarot cards.” She pulled the deck out from under…
View original post 118 more words
Daydreaming as a profession 