Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
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.
my neighbor from upstairs claims that God sticks post-it notes on his fridge overnight I did ask him what they said but he only told me that I'll have to follow him to church if I want to find out I'm generally not a very curious guy so I declined and, what do you know, few days later I see lots of other people following my neighbor to church They all looked the other way when I passed by them and said hi Thing is I don't even doubt God spoke to my neighbor through post-it notes and gave a lot of people hope I just like being the outsider more than I like being hopeful
this morning the pills have not been there kitchen top cabinet not there but of course the world wouldn’t explode if he didn’t take the pills for one day Things were going too fine to slip downhill now He didn’t need the pills. It actually was like the doctor said, the power was inside him The power to change to become better to leave the past behind. The power was in him And in dearest Kyu, his therapy dog, a small corgi who needed to be walked everyday He smiled as he thought of Kyu called him and Kyu came and he put the leash on and went outside The rain didn’t bother either of them Only problem during rainy days was the lack of other people to socialize with People hated rain and that was that but not him and Kyu They walked through the park and the rain grew more intense fatter drops heavier colder louder splashing the little rivulets flowing on the sides of the streets weren’t so little anymore This would turn out to be a total flood better go back home Kyu seemed to get the meaning they turned back and the rivulets at the sides of the street grew more potent and the leash grew lighter and lighter Gods! The rivulet carried Kyu away! Oh God, no! Straight into the curbside storm drain! In the sewer! Kyuuuuuu! And there was no one on the streets not even cars passing He had to do something by himself because no one would help him nobody ever helped him He had to pull himself out of this ditch by himself once more Cursing between clenched teeth he dropped to his knees and crawled into the storm drain after his beloved Kyu He landed on hard concrete and broke his foot so badly that the jagged shinbone protruded through the flesh and skin and came out like a blade He screamed and cried and cursed the day he was born and the people in his life and outside of it Of course everyone would be outside of it Nobody would be in his life not mother not father not sister grandparents friends? What friends? He never had any of those People were cold people wanted to see him cry because seeing him cry was their food and they needed food to stay alive, they needed to eat and their hunger was insatiable they should…just die actually The dirty water showered all around him and onto his wound and onto his head and eyes but he still saw it He saw them carrying Kyu away dragging him by the paws towards the darkest spot of the sewer despite his whimpering protests He screamed, shouted at them but they wouldn’t listen “Hey, you bastards, let him go!” No, they would not let Kyu go Words were not enough to convince people. He had to do something. He crawled after them through the cold filth with pain and determination propelling him Oh, it was them, of course Mother and father and sister they were dragging Kyu away from him just as they dragged everything away from him This was too much He couldn’t let this happen. Too much! He crawled after them crying screaming cursing and reached for his broken shinbone and pulled it out of the leg and stabbed them with it again and again He kept stabbing at their backs their heads, their throats, their chests, their arms everywhere stab stab stab “Thought you could take everything away from me my friends, my life, my love, my soul, my freedom, my purpose, my way, my choices, my health, my possibilities, and now even him, my dearest Kyu? Fuck you! I won’t let you! I won’t let you!” and he kept stabbing and stabbing stab stab stab until that hand just wouldn’t work anymore and he fell with his head on Kyu like on a pillow as he always did and darkness came about him Good night, Kyu
always cold in the north perhaps coming here was a mistake after all It's not so much the weather as it is the ever gray sky It favors depression Lack of sunlight lack of vitamin D He walked his dog around the block and counted zero smiles out of sixty-three faces seen and passed by The block was no fun so he followed the dog into the back alleys. It picked up on some smell and the smell grew potent enough that even he was beginning to feel it Not pleasant He expected a dumpster But found two dumpsters and a homeless old man huddled between them Ragged to threads holding a dead raccoon on his lap eating from its flesh raw and bloody Aw shit, he whispered. Maybe this place ain't so bad after all
all right, that sounded like good advice Put your room in order first and then your thoughts Sure He started looking around the room for things that were to be thrown and things that were misplaced There were a few There was a broken snowboard on his bed It had the image of a naked girl painted along he slept with it at night and would often find himself placing his lips over hers and licking at her slim, long neck She had to go It was time to get rid of her and break out of this ridiculous lifestyle He grabbed it Looked at the girl for a good minute and decided to place the snowboard under his bed He knelt by the side of the bed and looked under Alas, she had no room in there There was the forgotten cave of dead gods he no longer thought about And it was full There were body pillows with brown stains Hardened socks Doll heads A teddy bear with a hole carved between the legs A drinking glass stuffed with dishwashing sponges wrapped in plastic bags Magazines with crumpled pages Pictures printed on A4 paper Sealed jars that contained small figurines covered by a thick, brown substance like melted wax Those were the gods of nights long past They had their share of his worshiping and had been abandoned to rot away There was simply no more room for the present god to be disposed of “Funny,” he said looking at her from above. “It's like all the ones who came before you had passed down their blessings onto you. I… I am sorry I tried to get rid of you, love. I’m such a fool! Don’t strike me down, please. I’ll… I can only try to make up for it.” He placed the snowboard back on the bed and ripped two pieces from a paper towel and placed them over the middle of the snowboard where the painted girl’s nakedness was exposed He pulled his pants down and mounted her Rubbed his penis against the paper towels and showered the girl’s face with kisses while apologizing and shedding tears for wronging her so much By the time he came he felt forgiven and cleaned the stains that made it past the papers with his mouth
in high school he repeatedly told her that he was saving himself for marriage and eventually she left him alone but after graduation she approached him yet again and this time he told her that he was focusing on his career as a writer they both had their dreams and they kept dreaming and fighting to accomplish them, insisting and getting up from every defeat failing forward as some would say It took decades but eventually both of their dreams came true they were married and he still hadn’t struck a deal with any publisher but made a relatively okay income self-publishing he wrote for a very narrow niche very trashy erotic fiction and his lovely wife helped him with inspiration and research “C’mon,” he urged her, “moan a bit harder, cry some too.” she did as she was told as he went around her with the…
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at 08:22 he awakens and pushes away the tarp he uses as blanket he’s already dressed up and wears shoes looks around at the blackening dampness of the walls stretches a bit takes off his coat and the blouse and the shirt and the tank-top grabs a tissue wets it with rubbing alcohol and uses it to wash his armpits. He knows it’s good for killing the bad smelling bacteria He knows much about how the world works for he’d been to school and even one year of collage in his youth When his armpits dry he dresses up and gets out and checks under the big flower pots that stand before the entry to the building He is wise to keep his savings there Otherwise the others would’ve smelled it on him and would’ve robbed him a long time ago He counts the money and feels satisfied with the sum At 09:30 he eats a warm meal at the local soup kitchen and turns down four bums who ask to borrow money At 10:10 he walks up to the big casino and enters Now his imagination kicks in Behind the entry he is greeted with luxury, he walks on the red carpet and sees the bright lights and the game attendants who greet him like a king He is the king in his vision and he had returned to his castle He smiles and walks around leisurely A man needs to have but a clear vision of a bright future to live a happy present He finds a seat in front of a slot machine puts the money into the bill acceptor and starts playing He is one of the happiest customers the casino ever had
He jumped off the building and the metallic wings carried him high towards the clouds where others like him swam in absolute bliss but then something hit his head and he woke up turned around in bed and realized there was blood trickling from his eyebrow The girl besides him was holding a stapler in […]
sometimes I think I’m just too good for you by Bogdan Dragos
there was a dead body in the room Had to be Else where did the smell come from? Every time he’d turn around to catch a ghost or a zombie from the corner of his eyes the smell would slap him A smell of death He decided he’d look around for the dead body but later He didn’t have the energy now or the disposition or anything He only wanted to sleep some more He just woke up and needed a good nap to recover Perhaps there were times when it didn’t make sense but now, today, nothing made more sense that this All you need is a healthy dose of chronic depression and it makes sense Just like not cleaning the room and not taking a shower in a time longer than memory can be bothered to remember So he paced back to the bed and climbed in and dragged the blanket, heavy with caked dirt, on his body and closed his eyes He fell asleep in spite of the smell of death coming closer still The dreams were always a little bit better in the nap taken after waking up from the night’s sleep One time he even dreamed he was a published author. Not a great or even a good one, but published
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
