poems by John Grey
Winter Child City’s snowed in. No one’s about. Nothing to do but admire the night sky through rippling red eyes. Not so much the stars. But the darkness that holds them in place.
e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
Winter Child City’s snowed in. No one’s about. Nothing to do but admire the night sky through rippling red eyes. Not so much the stars. But the darkness that holds them in place.
[debut] THEMigod Thrown away Thrown away in a mold of unattainable aspirations And left there Rotting – Decomposing gruesomely as nonfulfillment putrefies my brain And I am
by Oliviu Crâznic The haggard mures, the forlorn alleys, The purblind mansions – casements, none; The wilted ivy and the placard Reading not WELCOME, but BE GONE…
Inferno I thought I’d read the Inferno aloud to my wife while we were house-sitting in a drafty old farmhouse in Umbria but after a while Hell got boring It didn’t take very long
personal mud pies mulch of my earthen history
The Television The television talks to nobody. (Nobody is home, and nobody is listening.) Why does it press on, forecasting scattered showers when nobody will be around to see it,
by Oliviu Crâznic In my mouth – a taste of iron, In my eye – ERASE/REPEAT; Best served cold, this baneful silence – Falsehood favoring deceit.
The Ditch Here a journey ended Water runs through the bones Attempting the ultimate cleansing Of a lost soul.
by Ana Bazac Yes, when we are tempted to chitchatting about how clumsy are some people who cry “we can no longer stand all of that”, we should think of our “humanism” cherishing the Man. But if we chatter “in a humanistic mood”, it means that we are comfortable doing this and, in our blindness framed […]
All If I loved Jesus any more than I loved God wouldn’t that be like adultery –idolatry I mean, at Sunday School Miss Hooker’s my teacher and she swears God