A total of four poems of mine recited by myself.
Category: writing
Last Page of Final Chapter
I am broken. There was this book in my attic.
It is the diary by some woman in her late 40s.
This is its last page:
“It has been a year now since we broke up.
That ungrateful son of a… I need to calm myself down.
There we are. Mr. Daniel’s is the only one that understands me lately.
Who am I trying to fool anyways… I built my very happiness around him.
Same job. No friends. Same office. No love.
No love…
I’ll be right back…
I have made a choice:
This evening, I am walking the Brooklyn Bridge from my side of town to the other side.
If no one… If no-one smiles at me all the way across, I’ll just jump off it.”
There’s nothing more written on it.
Extraterrestrial
I have been reviewing my copy of Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut and,
It turns out that microessay applies to the definition of those “Trafalmadorian Novels.”
Hm.
Astral Voyage
A Planetride.
I just was thinking, this is a Planetride.
If only I could make people see from my eyes.
This is but a Planetride.
We are on Earth.
Earth rotates.
Earth revolts around the Sun.
The whole of the Solar Systen revolts within the Milky Way.
Which… Well…
Just a Music. Just like celestial Music Time,
Which cannot be heard, for it has always sounded.
Just does Space. Velocity…
It depends on the observant.
As a whole.
From my eyes. Just from my eyes.
I always wanted to study Science.
Mentors would guide me:
“Are you sure you don’t want to write?”
“Are you sure you don’t want to draw, to take pics?”
“In all seriousness, why aren’t you already writing?”
I would choose Science.
Deep inside. Perhaps. I always knew it to be an inspiration.
I am traveling… All within myself.
Just an experiment. I am writing.
That witch. That witch. She would talk to Angels;
By automatic writing.
I was 14. I am, still 14. Only writing this at age 28.
I was 14. I am, 14. Reckless, I said:
“I must see by myself”.
Grabbed the pen, the sheet of paper…
A reference for voyaging, for me;
A mere observer.
Torture’s Man
Torture’s Man.
He isn’t afraid of words’ double-meaning either.
Alone in a sea of people, polluted as the real part of the metaphore.
Just fed up. Word he’s fed up.
And thus Torture’s Man, goes out on the street.
A hag is being robbed by a youth, and she shouts out for help.
“Oh, a robbing, oh là là” were the words to come out of his mouth.
The robber takes it as a defiance, and places his knife in Torture’s Man’s neck, exactly opposing his jugular.
“Oh, a cutting thing. Oh là là”, he skewers, just before leaving the youth badly wounded from a forbidden strike.
He just keeps on walking.
Four officers stop him.
“Oh, fire guns. Oh, là là”.
The tallest points to his police badge.
“Oh, the Authority. Oh, là là”.
He cracks his head open with his club. Call it a silly day.
“Hum, I am bleeding out. Oh, là là”.
Finally in Hell:
“Ow, ow, ow, Satan’s gonna hurt me.”
“Know what? Forget me”.
He sees the face of God Himself:
“Man, you… I mean, you!?”
“Hey, hey, hey, God is not O. K. Oh, là, LÀ”
Microessay
Microessay: Genre of writing, belonging to essay yet which can and must present literaty characteristics; very brief, and which, without providing arguments, expresses an idea, emotion, thought… Leading the reader into further thinking.
That’s the definition.
Which was “destroyed” (sic), from Wikipedia.
I stay still that I have created this genre of writing, being the first collection of them, Told on One Page.
And the last one, The THEIST MANIFESTO.
Black Blood. Deliverance!!
Tonight.
Tonight.
Did I? I did say,
I insist.
Let me insist.
Tonight.
Tonight the dead shall rise.
With these words I conjure the blinded eye.
Now wide open.
No longer. Not afraid of light.
Not. Anymore.
Today.
Today.
Today!
To me this has been but a very long day!
To mistake dreams for reality,
Lo live a nightmare.
To repress the deepest of myself.
With these words I unleash Hell itself.
Writing Technique VI: Automatic Writing
Step 1:
Grab a pen and a sheet of paper.
Step 2:
Say “I’m sober”.
Step 3:
Say “I’ve transcribed it since it was too blurry”.
Step 4:
Say “All that from Step 1 to Just Relax” was in your hand-written piece of paper.
STEP 5:
Step 6:
Stop saying you’re creating writing genres or they’ll treat you crazy.
Step 7:
Play off your high.
Step 8:
Say “Step 7 was clownin’ dog”.
Step 9:
Just Relax.
Step 10:
Thanks for reading.
A Dream Came True
OK. I’ve been awake and working for 40 hours straight.
Born Every Minute is a reality.
Coming soon…
Anarchy and Petrol Cheers, available…
…among others!
Here’s the list of the titles available this far:
01. Philosophize in Green!
02. “11 dreams”
03. “Youth Divine”
04. Ad aeternitatem
05. Poppy Blossom.
06. High Passions.
07. Anarchy and Petrol Cheers (Long Tale)
08. Witches’ Sabbath.
09. Extreme Self Help: Be Your Own Exorcist
10. Biosphere.
There are a total of 41 works within Born Every Minuto, Stay Tuned! 🙂
