The Muse’s Bad Touch – New poetry collection by Bogdan Dragos

Here it is. 
THE MUSE'S BAD TOUCH


A collection of dark poems highlighting the toxic and deadly relationship between poet and muse.


DISCLAIMER: suitable only for a mature audience.


D' you like the cover? I designed it myself  ∩(・ω・)∩ 


Check out the free sample poems (and maybe leave a review). Thanks! 


I don't wanna say that the poems contained in this book are dark. It would sound pretentious right off the bat. But, yeah, between dark and light, you know already where they stand.

Featured post

Genius Level Trap by Bogdan Dragos

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MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

The close up of a dead woman's bloody face lying face down
Image Source: Snappa

they didn’t think

about it.

That’s the problem, kids usually

don’t plan ahead,

they live in the moment

They just saw a movie

and wanted

to imitate the actors

because they thought what the

actors did was cool

The actors hunted wild

animals through

the jungle

and to do so they built traps

all over the place

They imitated the actors but

the only prey that fell

in their trap

was their pregnant mother. Using

the back door to

come into the yard

she tripped over the wire

they set and

fell

face first into the

knife blades that stuck out from the

ground as they buried the

handles in

The trap was genius level

The therapist would have to be

so as well

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a dark office full of TV monitors. There…

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join in the silence by Bogdan Dragos

Follow Gobblers / Masticadores to find more writings to fall in love with (◕‿◕)

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

There was indeed silence now Oh, and it's been but days since the screams cracked the windows and the thrown bottles stripped the walls of their paint and the curses made the gods cringe and cover their ears The house of madness no longer lived up to its name For she was finally gone and he was left with the echoes "C'mon, dare me to down it!" were her words as she opened the last bottle And his were, "Bitch, you're mad!" "Dare me, motherfucker! Dare me to down this here bottle. You don't think I can, do you? Ah, you slime-gutted piece of shit." "I'm telling you to knock it the fuck out already! I'll bury yer fuckin' eyes in, see if I won't." But she was already pouring down her throat. She had this talent that allowed her to drink without swallowing. Pouring down her throat was like…

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town of forgotten poets

there he was 
arriving on main street
carrying a backpack
and a suitcase 

both stuffed with
papers

“WELCOME TO THE TOWN
OF FORGOTTEN POETS.”
said the shadows that
watched from the 
windows
of nearby buildings

He didn’t like the 
sound of their
voices

but he sighed 
and dragged his
tired feet along 

they were almost as
tired as his soul
and just as hurt

He'll have to live on the
streets,
for the town
was overpopulated

Before the Leap by Bogdan Dragos

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MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

Man standing at the edge of a steep cliff and looking down as if ready to jump
Image Source: Snappa

so this is it then

He stood by the margin of the ravine

looked down

took a deep breath

looked behind him

no shadowy figure reaching

out

no pale silhouette making stop motions

no apparition telling him to

not jump

Of course,

what the hell was he thinking? These

things don’t happen outside

of stories

Stories like the one he was reviewing

on his phone

while driving

with his pregnant wife in the passenger

seat

the crash happened at

the moment he tapped send

and just yesterday he got a response

from the editor

saying it was a great story and they will

definitely publish it

There was no “Thank you” reply from him

just an “I’m sorry” and “I love you” on

his wife’s social media

before taking the leap

-BOGDAN DRAGOS

Bogdan Dragos supervises casinos for a gambling company, working twelve-hour shifts locked in a…

View original post 42 more words

to terminate a storm by Bogdan Dragos

Follow Gobblers / Masticadores to find more writings to fall in love with (◕‿◕)

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

It became more and more
obvious
There was a storm inside her

growing ever stronger

and she sought
to terminate it
before it was too late

It's arguably more difficult to
terminate such storms
when you're fifteen
and still living with your parents

so she decided not to
share her struggle
with them
and reached inside her
for the eye of the storm
with a steel wire she'd kept in
a bottle of hand sanitizer for a day
and a night

Yes, the first raindrops painted the
white of the bathtub

they were crimson
and salty

like her tears

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Why Do You Seek the Living Among the Dead by Bogdan Dragos?

( ^◡^)っ Follow MasticadoresIndia and find more poems and stories you'll love! 

MasticadoresIndia // Editora: Terveen Gill

An old woman has lowered her head and has covered her eyes with her palms
Image Source: Snappa

The old lady kept coming by

the hospital to assure the medics that it’ll be okay

“He’s a true fighter,” she said. “I know he’ll make it.

He has won the battle with drugs

twice in the past. He’ll make it this time as well. I

know it. I feel it. I believe in him.”

“Mam,” said the doctor. “We found rusty fragments

of broken needles stuck in his arm. Now, since

you’re his only relative

I do believe we shall carry out a discussion involving septic shock.

The effects…”

“He’ll make it! I know he will!

He’s a true fighter and a champion.

I believe in him.”

He didn’t make it

but it was fine apparently. When they showed his

body in the morgue, the old lady

didn’t flinch.

Told them that’s not her son.

That was a dead body and her son was alive.

He’d…

View original post 77 more words

alive today by Bodgan Dragos

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

there was a new guy in the park
among the homeless

He arrived just after the mayor had
eradicated all
the tents and improvised huts

and it was easy to spot him
He was the one who
always had a book in his hand, always
reading

"Check out the new guy," they
said. "An intellectual. Heh, hey buddy,
what you reading that for? Not like
you gonna get a degree that'll take
your ass outta here anytime soon. Haaahahah!"

He was reading his own poems
from a time when
he was young and his dreams were
still alive

Today nothing was alive
but misery itself

View original post

good and bad poetry by Bogdan Dragos

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

Well,
after you write enough
and try to publish for long enough
you just notice it
There is no such thing as
good
or
bad
poetry.
There's just poetry to which people
can relate
and poetry to which
people can't relate.
And that makes all the difference
in the world.

View original post

hunger is the secret ingredient

like a baby left for
hours
and hours in a hot car
he
woke up
with a sweaty forehead
and a buzz
in his temples

no room to stretch

he got out
of the
car

in his underwear

shook his legs
and hands
rubbed the pain away from
his knees
and back of the neck

There was a bottle of water
he got from
the park fountain
among the litter in the back seat

he opened it

hot

took a sip and swirled it
around his mouth
spat
took another sip
swirled
spat

that’s for dental hygiene

He put on pants and a shirt
locked the car
and walked 50 paces
to the nearest public restroom
where he removed his shirt and
washed his hairy armpits

He studied the violet circles under
his eyes in the mirror
checked his teeth
his tongue
felt for wax in his ears

put on a professional smile

went to the public
library
and the desk by the window was free
His smile grew brighter
as he sat down
and opened the notebook

Chapter 86 would
be next in the manuscript

He looked out the
window
This writer life was precisely as
romantic as he thought it’ll be

no more
no less

Bogdan Dragos -Third Time

Gobblers / Masticadores // Editores: Manuela Timofte / j re crivello

This morning he sent his third part (third time) of poems that we will publish every Wednesday. I personally thank the author who has many followers who value his written work.

j re crivello founder of Masticadores (*)

life’ll smile father punched him lightly in the shoulder and said, "Hey, keep that chin up, buddy. Just know that a time will come when life'll smile at us." Sure, he'd been saying that since forever. That was the earliest and most common memory of him Grinning from ear to ear and saying that a day will come when life'll smile upon them But until that day they'll have to sit in the town square and play their cheap instruments for passersby to drop money in their box Keep that chin up… Oh, father. You can't play the violin holding your chin up And life won't smile if you keep playing it…

View original post 21 more words

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