You continue because of it

it's a bit cold
I'm sitting by the margin of the river
A bit upset
There were too many fish who escaped
my nets

I sigh
throw 'em again


I catch one
pull it out and stomp on its golden head
rip it apart from the body
and drink its blood


Yeah, bullshit
I'm sitting in the office

night shift

supervising casinos through
CCTV cameras

it's 05:53
and I'm ignoring work to write poems
like this one

and something always comes up
and makes me forget my ideas
The phone rings
Some customer causes trouble in some casino
Some other customer is suspected of cheating
A bouncer falls asleep on his
chair due to lack of activity
The game attendant flirts with a customer
There's a bill fallen on the floor and I've to
determine its owner
A bunch of idiots are being too loud
Some other idiot keeps demanding alcohol
but his bets ain't worth shit
and so on
and on
and on

And the goldfish escape through my fingers
and the eyes of my nets are too wide
and that just sucks, man
It really does

But I pick myself up
and tell myself what I always tell myself

A writer writes
A writer writes
A writer writes

Just like a fisherman fishes

And you don't stop because the catch
is rickety

You continue because of it

Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

Mr Bogdan Has Drawn a Friendly Kitty for Poet Don’s Class

Flippant, Comic, and Serious

FCS focuses on humour,
offbeat poetry and exploring things different

Poet Don and class

Hands up all those who like kitties?….

(Sea of hands….)

Mr Bogdan has drawn one specially for you

(=’ ᴗ’ )
(, (“) (“)


What do you say?

Thankyou Mr Bogdan…..

The children seem impressed with your drawing ability. Have you considered a teaching aid art book for kiddies? Stay clear of (◉ܫ◉) though. Bit scary for them…..

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4 POEMS featured in Terror House Magazine

Finally!! (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑ 
I've managed to put together 4 safe, innocent, and family friendly poems that have been featured in a highly prestigious magazine
(づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ 

Feel free to read them and please tell me which do you think it's the least 'family friendly' among them (if there is one, of course).

Thanks in advance (^_^)


superstitious woman
facing the dark corner
a blunt weapon
a very happy neighborhood

infinitely unhappy girl

Oh, infinitely beautiful girl
you are not alone

she wrote with
scarlet lipstick on her mirror

But words alone
change hearts

and she was infinitely



All the boys and men
said yes
to her

but her brother still
said no

Bleed ’em to death

"Eh, sorry, sorry," she would
but the wound would be already

She would close her eyes
squint them
poke her tongue out
and shake her head

She liked to bite
couldn't help it

"You're gonna kill somebody
one day. Bleed 'em to death or

"Sorry, sorry."

but some people
some girls
are just impossible to stay mad at

Despite her words
there was
no remorse for opening the wound
no remorse for licking it
making it bigger with her tongue
And no remorse for sucking
the blood out of it

She never swallowed
Just swirled it around her mouth,
loving the saltiness
and the taste of metal,
and then let it drip down her chin

She was arguably
one of the
among the great ones

run wild

Run wild
That was the motto

Of course it didn’t address
running wild
in the streets
and away from angry shopkeepers
and the police
and rival gangs
and betrayed friends

It all starts with a
run from responsibility,
evading reality

“Think you
can live like that?” father had said.
“Go ahead and try. C’mon, not
like you’re of any
use round here. Go!”

He went

and the years have passed and
he was never missed

But tonight he would return
with a couple of
some rope
and a few sharp objects

A dim light was flickering in the kitchen
meaning the old man
would be at the table with a belly
heavy with drink
and a head light with fumes

So not much changed

"Well, let's go."

5 poems featured at Myfanwy&Friends

5 poems featured at Myfanwy&Friends


the last notebook

around the smokey hole

dating preferences

a successful first date


seven minutes in heaven

Yeah, there were those times
when he talked with
grandma about God
and she told him what a horrible place
hell is

"You suffer every day but can't die."

"Every day?"

"Every day. And can't die. Only

Grandma had four years of
schooling to her life
She didn't consider
the possibility of getting used to
the suffering
If it happens daily and you
don't die... well.

Hell therefore is not pain

It is monotony

Today he had 18 years of schooling
and 10 of working
a dead-end office job
He was accredited to define hell

Hell was monotony

Doing the same thing over
and over
and over again for the rest of

That was hell

And maybe grandma would've

maybe not

But there was one thing he remembered
about hell. Something he'd
heard from his mother back in the day
she'd quit chemotherapy to save the
money for his college
"The way out is
one smile away!" she'd said

Yeah. The way out.

He stood

left his cubicle
went into the bathroom
took out the razor blade from his pocket

and slashed from the corners
of his lips
all the way to the ears


And again

There it was. An avalanche of feeling. So
much feeling!

He dipped his fingers into
the blood and
drew a smiling face on the

One smile away!

He shook with laughter and
adrenaline. There
was so much to feel! He laughed for
a full seven minutes.

And then returned to
his cubicle
and resumed work

The others were too deep in
hell to notice him
or the trail he left behind

she gives love, kindness, warmth, acceptance. And never judges

the woman smiled at him
and showed her
legs from beneath a
white coat

She was close to his face

Stretched on the label of
the rubbing alcohol bottle

70% alcohol

He liked this woman because her
smile never faded
and she was always inviting

"Oh, if you insist," he said
and made an
effort to push himself away from the
moldy pillow and stand

He grabbed the bottle
added some water
held his breath
and drank

The words "I love you," came from his mouth
enveloped in thick steam

and there was a brutal
growl in his guts

but none of that
mattered. The woman was still
smiling at him, still
Yep, I know I’ve the voice of a 96 year old man on his deathbed despite being in my 20s. Also my pronunciation’s all over the place due to lack of practice (English ain’t my 1st language). But behold I got drunk and silly one afternoon and told a few friends about my poetry blog. You know how these things end up. Here I am now recording my own voice — with intonation, mind you — reading my poem.

a very skilled assassin

The way she'd creep up on you
and just appear
from behind like some cat,
you'd think she
was some trained assassin or something

I felt her punch
my shoulder and then her
other hand falling on
my nape and squeezing
"Hey, lucky boy. You should be so damn
glad you ran into me."

In the fist that hit my shoulder
she held a bunch of
crumpled bills
and brought them before my eyes

"What's that?" I said

"Our tickets to the bar
down the street. And you've the honor
to accompany me there. Drinks
are on me today. But you do
owe me, don't think otherwise, okay?"

"Where'd you get that money?" I asked.
"Why's it so dirty?"

"I stole 'em from Ol' Horn Nose
while he was taking a shit."

Ol' Horn Nose was the homeless guy
who roamed around the block, usually begging
in front of the supermarkets
and pharmacies

She brought the fist to her nose
and smelled the bills
and then shrugged

"You can't be serious," I said. Of course
I didn't believe her
but just then
the old man rounds the corner
and spots us
and points his crooked finger at us
and screams

Immediately two cops
round the corner
and approach us with big strides
but by the time they get to us
there's only me

The assassin girl
was gone

I haven't seen her since
but she does
cross my mind every now and then

Especially when I pay with
cash at the bar

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