Jon Ureña's Blog, page 58

A Pair of Old Dogs (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

I had forgotten the last time I played guitar.
After I became unemployed in late April,
I had focused on writing frantically
Until I finished the novel I'm still revising,
And my new contract for the entire summer
Caught me as I was trying my hand at poetry,
But creative people should play instruments
As often as they can, to keep their minds free,
And to widen the breach into the subconscious,
So its insights flow as unimpeded as possible.

On this sunny July Saturday afternoon,
I sauntered again to my favorite spot,
A couple of kilometers into a trail
Which runs among grassy, hilly fields,
And tranquil cottages still as if deserted.

The sun shone warmly down on me.
The sky was clear blue above,
The air clean and fresh.
I reached an isolated bench,
Where I put down my guitar bag,
Then sat myself down beside it.

My calluses had softened after a few months,
So I played the songs with sore fingertips.
I had forgotten how good it felt to play,
Like swimming in the ocean on a hot day.

I lost myself again in the feeling
Of being captured in the song
That my hands and voice are making.
For as long as it lasts, I have never held a job,
Nor aged, nor suffered defeats or any pains,
Or felt anything except the pleasure of music.
In other words, I was like a young child
Who has no worries or cares about tomorrow.

(A group of tweens passed by, yammering
As they played reggaeton on speakers.)

A rough cement path leads uphill
From the bench where I usually play
Through the narrow space between fields,
And disappears behind old, tall trees.
I had never followed it before,
But for whatever reason, yesterday I did.

As I walked up the steep path,
Soon I ceased to hear the city noise.
I only heard the birds and the breeze,
And the quiet rustling of leaves overhead,
While to my left, in a fenced, wavy field,
A group of horses chewed some grass,
Their muzzles deep in green clover.

The blue sky above me,
The green leaves around me,
The smell of fresh grasses
And flowers and trees,
All these things were communicating
Something deep inside me,
Some message from the depths,
One so important and profound
That it cannot be expressed.

I passed by large, hedged estates
From which came echoed barking,
Past old telephone poles standing tall,
And upon reaching a plateau,
I walked through a farmyard
Where chickens wandered around.

I trudged further uphill
With this old body I have to drag,
Until I felt like stopping to look behind.
A chain of mountains hid the horizon.
Despite the isolated houses
Built on the gentler slopes,
I would have faced the same view
A hundred, or five hundred years ago,
No matter how much the city changed,
And all the progress they think they do.

There's so much beauty left
In these hills and mountains.
Having been born here,
I must be fortunate.

Goats were grazing on the garden
Of a farmhouse passed down for generations.
So high up on this rise, wherever I looked
I was surrounded by mountains and hills,
And a silence so deep it made me shiver.

Tomorrow, I will have to traverse
A city made out of dozens of nationalities,
People who fight to assert their rights
Caring nothing about what came before
(An engineered reality we are told to support),
So I can return to my anxiety-inducing job
Where loads of people will call with problems
That I'll have to squeeze my mind to solve
Until I get to return home drained,
When all I ever needed in this wretched world
Is a chair, a notebook and a pen, a guitar,
And hopefully music and some books.

As I passed by a large estate
Where cows were grazing peacefully,
A pair of old dogs were lying motionless
In the shade of a tall, lonely tree.
One of them was awake, and looked up
At the seagulls circling overhead.

I thought about those dogs' lives,
With their drooping faces and greying fur,
And how they had spent their years
In the peace of nature,
With little to worry about
Besides yearning for a spot to loll in.
How much better their lives had been
Than the one I've had to lead.

A family was working in an elevated field,
Probably located in front of their estate.
Their tractor's engine rumbled:
It was ploughing, sowing or harvesting
(I know close to nothing about farming)
While other people followed on foot
As they worked with rakes or pitchforks.

One of the people was a shirtless, hairy man,
And the others two young women in T-shirts
(Both of the women looked quite fit).
I passed them by as I worked on my ebook
(I'm still revising the latest novel I wrote).
I wished I could stroll around in nature
While as invisible as a ghost.

I didn't venture much further,
Because a hundred meters up ahead,
A big tractor was blocking the path.
Its driver was busy chatting away,
So I turned around to return home.

The two women on the elevated field
Were silhouetted against the hills
As they held their rakes across their shoulders.
A bit further ahead, the rough man
Burped loudly as I passed by,
Which left a sour taste in my mouth.

This guy said goodbye to me with a tone
Between embarrassment and annoyance,
As if he was used to burping at people
And them considering it charming behavior,
But I was more disturbed
By a stranger telling me goodbye.

I stopped absentmindedly
To check something on my ebook,
And I heard lazy growling
Coming from the estate to my right;
I had stopped in front of the old dogs,
And the second one, now awake,
Had gone back to doing his own job.

As I walked away, I wanted to apologize.
I was intruding upon a world
Where I didn't belong.

I ended up walking down another path
That I didn't know if it would lead home,
While my heart got squeezed by sorrow.
I felt something had been stolen from me
When I was a child. A whole life
That I can never get back.

I should have lived somewhere else,
Surrounded by nature and animals,
Focusing on stuff that truly mattered,
Instead of trying to find my own place
Among thousands of human beings.

If someone proved to me that people
Had been placed here by aliens
So they would make a mess of this world
And destroy it if given the chance,
For no other reason than their desire
To create chaos and confusion,
Our existences would have made sense.

I am a dog in an old age
That has not yet begun.
I want to escape from it all.
I've had more than enough
Of this rotten civilization.

As I descended the cement path,
I noticed an opening in the vegetation
Of the forest to my left, an archway
Into a narrow trail in the cool shade
Of the many old, untended trees.

I sat down on the trunk of a fallen birch.
I pulled out my guitar and played a song
For the squirrels and the birds.

When I returned to the streets
That I have seen thousands of times,
They looked different;
I had spent time in a landscape
I never knew before,
And it made me feel like I'd become
A person slightly different
Than the one of who I'm sick.

This Sunday is running out,
And my head feels heavy,
Like a leaden weight tied to me
By a rope around my neck.

Tomorrow I will return to work,
To start a whole new week
Filled with anxiety and dread,
Having to solve everyone's problems
When I'm unable to solve my own.

The Princess of the Gutter (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

I entered my thirties as someone
Who had failed to get a stable job,
Who had worked for minimum wage
Programming corporate websites,
Which involved typing away non-stop,
Being pressured into working overtime,
And leaving the office at around five PM.

As I waited for the train to come,
I daydreamed about walking forward
And dropping onto the train tracks below
(Why not? Why was I alive at all?).
When I finally got home
At about half past six PM,
Often I went to sleep immediately,
Or passed out after I sat down,
So I could wake up the next morning
For a new workday to drain me dry.

I quit one of those jobs;
I couldn't tolerate the stress
And exhaustion of its work hours.
I was fired from another one
While I was on medical leave
Due to anxiety and depression.
The others either let me go
Or didn't hire me after the trial period,
All of them offering a creative version
Of 'you can't work well in a team',
Which would be fair and all
If working there had involved teamwork,
Instead of me sitting alone at a desk
Programming whatever they told me to.

(I'm a terrible worker, I admit it,
Unless I'm interested in the subject;
I only care about my obsessions,
And I will work as little as possible
If I can get away with it.)

The last of those cases was back in 2015,
When my immediate boss argued angrily
With the supervisor that didn't hire me
After a trial period I got through a center
For adults on the autistic spectrum.
That supervisor I hadn't dealt with
Stated the cookie-cutter phrase
As the reason why she wouldn't hire me:
'You wouldn't fit in with the team'.
A more accurate assessment of my abilities
Would have been 'We're better off hiring
Somebody else that has less problems'.

I had wasted six months of my life
Programming their intranet for free
So I could add that bullshit experience
To my curriculum vitae,
Although no employer who reads it
Would consider hiring me.

(Their HR person wanted me to be proud
That my effort reduced their work time.)

I gave up on ever making it
As a regular member of a society
In which I never felt I like belonged.
I spent most of my days reading,
Writing (very little those days),
Playing video games, playing guitar,
Or masturbating.

As I was busy hating my life,
I got called from a center that handles
Adults with severe disabilities,
To attend some half-assed, bullshit course
About developing social skills for work.

During the initial interview for the course,
One of the counselors offered me a job
At a workshop, in the assembly line.
Leaving aside that I didn't want it
(I try to avoid working in the kind of jobs
That would make me want to kill myself),
The tremendous din of those workshops,
As well as how loud some workers are,
Would clash with my auditory disorder,
And my IBS would make me stop the line
Every forty minutes or so to take a shit,
So I decided to pass on that opportunity
(If you can call an opportunity a job
That wouldn't pay me enough to live;
I hadn't become that desperate yet).

They justified the government grants
By setting up a course that would teach us
How to talk politely and behave professionally,
To learn how to face life's challenges
And become integrated into the workforce.

Modern society believes, and is forced to,
That everyone is equal in a fuzzy sense,
The same way a religious person believes
In a god that is just a construct
From which they derive their sense of meaning
Without the need to question or analyze it
(Such gods, secular or not, aren't omnipotent,
So for the followers, if the rest refuse to believe,
Everything collapses into absurdity).

I'm not willing to accept a manufactured reality
In which different people must be treated equally;
People are born with or develop
Wildly incompatible needs and abilities.

The supposedly well-meaning idiots
In charge of organizing these courses
Put people with physical injuries,
Severe intellectual disabilities,
Severe "social" disabilities (autism),
And even a jihadist without disabilities
(Some shit about risking exclusion)
In the same fucking course,
Which made it utterly worthless.

We wasted half of every class
Hearing how our society was terrible
And we should think about converting
Into a more compassionate religion,
As if I didn't already hate this civilization
For forcing us to tolerate this garbage.

Anyway, during one of the breaks,
I skedaddled as usual to read alone,
Sitting on an isolated bench
As my earphones played storm sounds.

But that day someone walked out
Of the nearby workshop,
Where a bunch of disabled people
Sat in front of an assembly line
To assemble machinery parts.

It was a beautiful woman
About twenty five years old,
Who wore a workshop uniform.
As she shuffled to the bench
Located right in front of me
(Maybe seven meters away),
She was sobbing like a child
As if nobody could hear her
Or nobody would care.

(I immediately thought that she cried
Because her life wasn't worth living.)

When she sat down,
Her shoulders drooped
While the streams of tears
Dripped onto her lap.

She looked like those well-off women
Who carry shopping bags as they stroll
Through the fanciest neighborhoods.
I would believe her if she had revealed
That she was an actress preparing a role.

I sat there gawking at her
While I held my breath.
There was something epiphanic
In the sight of an incongruous woman
Sobbing like an abandoned puppy.

I wondered how broken she was,
And about her kind of brokenness
(Nobody would have ended up there,
In a facility up in the hills of Donostia,
If society hadn't decided to hide them).

Someone else came out of the workshop.
It was a hirsute, ugly man in his forties
Who was missing most of the hair on top,
But I remember tufts of thick back hair
Peeping out of the collar of his uniform.

He hurried up to sit on the bench
Next to the beautiful, sobbing coworker.
I think he asked her what was wrong,
While she trembled and her chest convulsed.
Then I heard her thin, broken voice.
She was trying to cobble a sentence together
As if her brain was cleaved in two.
The words were incomprehensible.

(It made me feel again that life is a lie,
A farce that we're forced to endure,
And I wished that all the pain
Trapped in the depths of my heart
Was so intense that it would kill me.)

It might have been cerebral palsy,
Or a myriad other disorders or diseases,
But whatever the cause, she was broken
To the extent that she knew
That she could freely sob in public
Like a ghost wailing in the night.

The hirsute coworker put his arms
Around the sobbing woman's shoulders,
And as he cuddled up to her,
He spoke to the crying beauty
With tender words.

While she wept and wept,
He stroked her head
And kissed her temple,
Like a lover does
To comfort their beloved.

(That man was the ugliest I'd ever seen,
Because he was the one hugging her
When it should have been me.)

Was she aware of her limitations?
Was she was a bright woman
Trapped in a brain unable
To put together coherent sentences?
Or had she been blissfully spared
By her severe disabilities
That degree of sentience?

(I hope she was stupid,
As dumb as a wild animal,
So she wouldn't understand
The kind of hell she lived in.)

I likely wouldn't have given a shit
If she had been ugly.

What I learned from attending centers
For disabled people who rarely get hired,
Is that most human beings are spared
Having to come across the people
Who would disturb society
With their misery.

The Cleaning Crew (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

This cleaning guy walks with a limp,
Has a useless arm, and curses loudly to himself
(On top of all that, he's prematurely bald).
Like many other afternoons at the office,
Until this guy came in to do his job,
I was blissfully alone, sitting at my desk,
Watching YouTube, hoping to write stuff,
Wishing that nobody would call for an issue
Of the many I get paid to solve.

Every couple of weeks they send different cleaners,
But all of them are the kind that keep muttering,
Maybe hoping to start a conversation,
Maybe just to have their existence acknowledged,
Or maybe there's a correlation between
Such verbal incontinence
And having to clean hospitals for a living.

"I can't do this shit in thirty minutes.
Who the fuck does she think she is,"
The crippled guy grumbled
As he mopped the floor
With his remaining healthy arm.

Through his festering bitterness,
I imagined this guy's entire life
As being filled with such complaints;
He never felt appreciated, loved nor happy,
Not for a single day since he was born.

I wondered if anyone ever told him
That muttering a series of curse words
Makes people want to listen even less.
I was a silent kid who opened his mouth
Just to curse when he couldn't help it,
Until I realized that it sounded ugly,
So from then on I only cursed in my mind,
At the world and at myself.

Another cleaning worker came, a woman.
I don't look them in the face if I can avoid it
(She likely wasn't a model,
And if I wanted to stare at a tired, wrinkly face,
From lack of sleep and constant stress,
I would just look in the mirror instead),
But she sounded like she was in her forties.
Both started a loud, private conversation,
As I sat nearby trying to waste my time
By watching Korean videos on YouTube.

They ranted about another coworker.
"She said that my girlfriend would leave me,"
The crippled cleaning guy complained.
"You know that she won't clean the fifth?
Because of the COVID patients, she says,
But those were moved to other floors.
I keep asking her why do I have to do her job,
And she just repeats that she won't go there."

The cleaning woman added to the conversation,
"You know that she used to work in the kitchen?
She came drunk often, and one day
She was stumbling as snot ran down her nose,
Until she dropped some pottage on the floor,
But instead of throwing it away,
She put the dirty food back in the pot.
Another coworker freaked out, and contacted me
Because she didn't know how to stop her,
And they ended up calling security."

The crippled cleaning guy cursed.
"That stupid bitch, she snooped on my phone
For just a few seconds, got to see my girlfriend,
And she said that she looked like a cheap whore."
The cleaning woman shook her head.
"I don't know how someone like that can exist."

I heard every word as I sat at my workstation,
And in such cases I can never tell
Whether people like these want to be heard
(Some people just need to be listened to),
Or if their minds don't allow them to realize
That they are cleaning someone else's office,
Where someone is trying to do his job
(And at that moment, my job consisted
Of watching videos of a hot Korean model).

I didn't stick around for them to finish.
My bowels were churning and burning,
As usual due to this IBS curse,
So I slipped away to take a shit.

When I returned, the cleaners were gone,
So I resumed my precious solitude,
This time for a new batch of prank videos
As I waited for the remaining time to pass
Until I could exit the hospital into the night,
To wait for my bus to come,
Then to wait for my train to come,
Then to walk through my shitty city,
Until I could finally hide between my walls,
So tomorrow I can do it all over again,
And pull off a few hours of real work
While I try to ignore the sound of cursing
Inside my own brain.

In such days I feel that no one
Wants to live in this world,
That there isn't a single person
Who would choose to stay,
Yet we all do it anyway
(Until the day when we don't).

We spend our whole lives
Doing what others ask us to,
While always hoping
That someone will appreciate it
And love us for who we are,
But nobody ever does.

It's just a futile game
That you can't win,
Yet you have to play it anyway,
So today I did it too:
I wrote an ugly poem
About those who keep cursing
Because their lives
Are not worth living.

I Was Born a Unicorn (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

A realization that most children are spared
Is the stark epiphany that others are wildly different.
More accurately, I was the odd one out.
I felt different from everyone else on Earth
(No wonder I loved UFOs from an early age).

My mind doesn't process information like theirs do.
I couldn't understand what made them laugh or cry,
They giggled over things that caused no reaction in me,
And they welcomed behaviors that caused me anxiety.

As a child I felt a pressure to hide my inner self,
Because if anyone knew how unusual I was,
The world would think less of me.

Being close to people is a way to feel alienated,
Since I don't need to respond how they expect.
They all seem so similar to each other,
While I have always remained a stranger.

It usually takes them opening their mouths
To voice an opinion, or share their interests,
Or just reacting naturally to normal stimuli,
For me to think, "These people aren't like me".
Discovering someone who can relate
Is like finding a whole new planet in space.

The only place where I felt like I belonged
Was in the darkness of the universe
(If anything, I wanted to exist
In a parallel universe where I could live
Free of the expectations of society).

When a child's parents realize
That the kid is different than the rest,
They can go two different routes:
The first explores what makes the kid unique,
And the other insists on him becoming normal,
Which involves smothering his natural instincts
And him learning to behave in normal ways.

I was told the latter, to wear a mask,
Because eventually it would become natural.
It only helped me develop a severe self-hate,
As I kept flagellating myself with stuff like:
"Maybe if I try harder I'll fit in better."
"When will these feelings go away?"
"When will I become normal?"
"I must be completely stupid."

My mind split into two: the conscious brain
(The one that deliberately chose what to do),
And the monster, what dwelt deep inside,
That only spat out unacceptable reactions
And emotions, many of them troublesome
(Or at least made some people uncomfortable).

When I visited one of my first therapists,
My reason for going was, "I can't feel anything."
I had come to believe I didn't experience emotions,
Because for all my life I had to train myself
To discard the products of my subconscious mind,
So I could live like a normal person.

I only identified with my conscious self,
Which barely kept its head above the water
(Opaque, mercurial waters, filled with monsters).
I felt that if I lessened the tight grip on my mind,
My self would literally disappear, swallowed
By the unacceptable, monstrous forces
That I was taught to repudiate and suppress.

This may be why I developed a strong tendency
To view the world as a dangerous place full of threats
(Except that it is such a dangerous place;
Most people don't care to connect the dots).
A terrifying world full of treacherous people,
Where even many of the benevolent ones are evil.

The very nature of the universe is a conspiracy,
A vast, hostile, and ultimately undefeatable enemy.
I am afraid, terrified, and deeply concerned
About the future of humanity.

Acting like a normal person isn't a solution,
Because other people behave naturally,
And acting is mostly a conscious action
Sustained in time through mental efforts.
Every day I ended up exhausted,
And some days I even passed out
(I recall one time I took the train
In the opposite direction by mistake,
And then immediately fell asleep).
Worst of all, acting didn't even work,
Because people realize someone is fake,
Or least they get creeped out enough.

Wearing a mask also damages your dignity.
The mask has to be perfect, unblemished;
Otherwise, the whole facade will crumble.
Also, you're forced to wear it constantly.

Your brain can't keep up. You stay on guard
While you're trying to maintain an act
With no room for error, or slipups,
Because if something triggers a response
That normal people consider inappropriate,
Then everyone will think you're strange
(The monster can never be seen).

Unless you feel an impulse to murder people,
Just be yourself, and those who dislike you
Weren't meant to stick around anyway
(And if you want to murder people,
Join the military, I guess).

It took me many years and self-searching
For me to allow my subconscious mind to be,
Which involved learning to listen to it,
Its likes, dislikes, and all kinds of impulses
That I had proscribed for my entire life.
And it took even more to identify with it,
To let it come forth without resistance,
For me to accept the monster inside.

Ever since, I only feel like myself when I'm lost,
When the subconscious mind does its thing,
For example writing or playing the guitar,
Completely unshackled and uncontrolled,
Running too fast for the conscious brain.

People lie to themselves about their choices,
About why they hold certain beliefs,
About the myriad of tiny decisions they make.
Most are decided by the primordial monster,
And the conscious mind takes credit for them.

That self-important conscious brain
Is like a tenant being pelted with objects
In his house during a violent poltergeist;
It's not a trick, dude: the house is haunted
(I'm not sure if the analogy works,
But my point is that there are forces there,
Down in the ancient depths of our brain,
That we can't even begin to understand.
Just let it do its thing, throw a few plates).

I recall a moment during a writing class
When everyone burst into laughing
Within milliseconds of the comment made,
But I was the only one sitting there stone faced;
The comment had failed to affect my brain.
The others stared at me as if I was killing their vibe.
None of the people involved chose their reactions.

Curiously, whenever a normal person finds out
That one of us (usually autistic) reacts differently,
They get disturbed, feel off, deflated.
They think that we lack intelligence of empathy.
The empathy accusations always kill me;
They come from people that surround themselves
With like-minded people who react the same way,
And they feel that the accused person should adjust
His mindset and reactions to suit their needs.

I eventually also realized that most people
Don't walk around in tight circles,
Nor flap their hands to dissipate anxiety.

One of my fondest memories
Involves me waking up from an operation
While I was still high on morphine;
For the first time in my life
I wasn't besieged by anxiety.
Most people don't suffer such assaults,
Which explains many of their opinions.

My thoughts also walk in circles,
Caring little about reaching a destination.
My brain forces me to ponder the same stuff
Almost every day, or else it bombards me
With everything that has ever gone wrong,
Or what could go wrong, and the consequences.

I'm one of those autistic people, very common,
With a full-blown auditory processing disorder;
Repetitive noises or sudden, loudish ones
Make me feel as if I have been literally slapped
(It makes me want to get angry at the culprit),
Or else it feels like getting nudged repeatedly
By someone who insists on bothering me.

I've never learned to control those reactions;
They come from the depths of the brain.
It gets as bad as losing my train of thought
Each time I hear a meow somewhere around
(Although I love cats, particularly cat girls),
And then I can't concentrate for life
Until the noise stops and the feeling goes away.

I tend to wear earbuds, or play loud music,
Or white noise of choice, like storm sounds,
Because it helps to block out the world,
The myriad of invading sounds and voices
That circle around inside my head all day long.

I had to learn about prosopagnosia,
Because most people don't experience it
(It's more common in autistic people):
Every face looks familiar, but not enough,
And I can hardly recognize people outside
Of the familiar places where they belong.
It even happens with my family members.

As an example of how shitty it gets:
What now feels like a lifetime ago,
I made out with this cute basketball player,
(She was a girl, though, maybe sixteen),
And I fucked up a relationship as I do,
By being a coward and hating myself.
I'm quite sure that I lost her email address.
She lived nearby, but I didn't dare to go.
As far as I know, I never saw her again;
I assume that I came across her,
But I failed to recognize her face.
The poor girl likely believed I was a shithead
Because I completely ignored her existence.

Sorry, sweetie, I was fucked from birth
With a broken brain.
You dodged a nuclear missile, though
(What I'd do to fondle that ass again).

When I went for my disability assessment,
The guy working there said I should be fine
Regarding the autism with which I was born,
Because it's called a developmental disorder
(Meaning that such disorders affect growing kids);
For society, adults with Asperger's don't exist,
Or else it gets its information from Hollywood
(Hoffman based his Rain Man on Kim Peek,
But that guy wasn't even autistic).

According to the Spanish government,
I'm fifty two percent disabled,
But I think it should be higher:
I can barely get through a workday
Because of the constant anxiety,
The variety of physical pains,
The need to get away from the noises,
The social adjustments I need to make
To avoid making others uncomfortable,
My difficulties to communicate verbally,
And the lack of trust that comes from it.

And I was born with other afflictions
That factor into that high percentage,
But that have little to do with autism;
Ironically, these cursed irritable bowels,
Which cause me to feel bloated constantly
And to sneak away to the bathroom very often
(That alone incapacitates me for several jobs)
Weren't considered bad enough to factor in.

I'm exhausted and miserable most days,
Like most autistic people are, I guess.

Anyway, I wrote this poem
(Or however I could name this thing)
Because there are still too many people
Who believe that everyone's brain
Pretty much works the same way.

Fly on the Wall (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Back in the 2000s I loved this soft rock band
That I learned about through an online forum.
The songwriter was a working-class fellow
Who wrote about failed relationships,
About how everything was disappointing,
About his hope to disappear in romance,
And about keeping his head above water,
Because he could barely afford to pay the rent.

Listening to his/their sad songs
Made me feel there were other people
Who felt as though they had no choice
About the person they were forced to be,
But still tried to make good things happen,
Although they feared nothing would come of it.
The songwriter was following a calling within
That would likely lead him to his doom
(If you had to swim, it was fine to drown).

As he shared every song on the forum,
I was awed by this guy's enthusiasm,
Not to mention his unique talent,
And how hard he focused on creating stuff
So his little band could one day make it big.

This guy reminded me of myself
(I loved to believe I was talented,
Particularly if I didn't have to prove it).
He shared similar feelings and thoughts,
Although we came from different backgrounds.
His world view was much more mature,
Which made his music seem realer
(I didn't need to pay the rent,
So I didn't know how it felt
To be one step away
From poverty).

I went through hard times, a bad relationship
(I wish I had never met you, M.;
You have to be a bitch to call your ex
And tell him that a new dick feels better,
As much as it takes a pathetic guy
With self-hate and abysmal self-esteem
To take your fucking calls),
And I had to leave most of my tastes aside,
While I feared what might become of me
(At least I don't have to worry anymore;
My life has gone far beyond my control).

When I returned to being on my own
(As I should have always been),
I recalled that the aforementioned band
Existed at all, and I hadn't dreamed it up
During one of my psychotic breaks
(I want to erase the memories of those years).
Yeah, their existence was proof for me
That I wasn't crazy; I actually existed
In some sort of alternate dimension.

Although they had been selling albums online,
I was no longer able to find any trace of them
(They seemed to have been scrubbed
By someone who wanted them gone).
That online forum had disappeared.
I had formatted the drive that had the songs.

Sometimes, my mind replayed the echoes,
As well as what I could remember of the lyrics,
All the while I wondered where those guys were now,
Because I was pretty sure that their band was no more.

As I was cleaning my place, I found a CD
That contained, among forgotten stories,
All of their songs I had downloaded then.
After I listened to their tracks again,
I remembered why I was drawn to them,
How refreshing it was to hear such feelings,
Of someone who struggled in a similar way.

Now that I'm older, I hear them differently.
The guy talked about the pressure to create,
How every day felt wasted if he didn't make
Part of a song, or worked on their lyrics.
In one of the last songs, the guy spoke about
Having gotten tired of playing with paper swords,
And that from then on he would seek security.

(When I was a child we caught a bird,
Then put it in a cage as a new pet;
It suffered a heart a attack and died.
It didn't even take a whole day.
Sometimes I think of the newborns
That the bird probably needed to feed.)

As a lanky, pimply teen, I wrote like crazy.
I spent a few years writing a psychotic story
About colonial marines in deep space,
Which would have interested nobody
(Because it was a complete piece of shit).
When I read some of the pages, I was appalled
By the disordered, broken mind it revealed
(Those drafts embarrassed me so much
That I burned them after reading,
Then threw away my computer
And shot myself in the head).

Back then I was on the verge of hanging myself;
I wrote to stay afloat, to make it somewhere,
Although I already knew I'd never find my place.
Something I miss from those days is the fire
To write something meaningful each and everyday
(I wish I could spend the rest of my life
Just sitting at my desk, typing out thoughts
That are hidden inside me),
The feeling nothing matters except creating art;
For me every day without writing was wasted.

For many years I gave up my dreams for security.
I studied to become a programmer, worked as one
(Barely above minimum wage, and terrible hours).
I discovered that my broken mind wouldn't tolerate
Nor be accepted in any private office's culture
(I got a series of 'You won't work well in a team',
Always by supervisors who weren't technicians;
The bosses I worked with were fine with me.
All those supervisors were always women
Against a less than stellar example of a man,
And it's hard to avoid seeing that pattern
In our society at large, not just in that industry).

Eventually I got too old to be exploited as a dev,
So I worked for a while as a freelance merc,
But most of the months I wasn't getting paid,
Although I worked my ass off full time
(I never want to receive again calls at 1 AM
Because some crazed client wants a feature).

I enjoyed programming a version of DF
('Dwarf Fortress', that old grail, a total mess),
But you need a whole team to make a game.

I spent years doing nothing but gaming,
Listening to music, reading, browsing the net,
And masturbating copiously,
Because I was sure I wouldn't fit in anywhere.

I learned how to play guitar, played it in the woods,
But only writing stuff ever felt truly right
(Meanwhile, my parents paid for most things;
Maybe it was fair, after they raised me to be shit).

I now work in IT for a hospital,
Which is garbage, but it pays well
(I've learned to hate computers).
If I had stayed as a musician,
I'd probably be dead,
Or a poor alcoholic,
Or maybe in jail
(I've been busted twice,
Because I was under the influence
Of painkillers).

I always look forward to being unemployed.
Some people say that you have to work,
Because that ennobles you or something.
As far as I'm concerned, that's slave mentality,
That's like having to believe that pain is good
Because no pills get rid of your constant aches
(So you have to befriend them or else go insane).

I'd rather have some people supporting me,
Paying my bills and the roof over my head,
Even if most days I would only masturbate,
And occasionally produce some sort of text.

Writing struck me when I was young:
It felt so good to escape reality,
To tell stories that no one else could see.
It's something I can do by myself, in silence
(Or talking to myself, acting out the dialogue).

I didn't need anyone else to understand me,
Or to cheer me up, or to tell me what to write.
People were always involved in everything else,
And they kept me away from doing what I liked.
All I have to worry about is being lazy,
And when I am sick of it all, I'll stop writing.

From 2012 to 2018, I tried my best in Spanish,
Writing serious stuff that might sell enough to eat.
I couldn't even get along with the local writers;
I didn't understand their reasons for writing,
And their brains worked differently from birth.

After I self-published two books and nobody cared,
That tainted all the effort I put into my stuff.
Writing had ceased to be fun like it used to.
I stopped writing for a while, the words were dry.
I grew angry, bitter, confused, depressed.
All of my efforts seemed pointless in retrospect.

When I was a child, I knew I wouldn't get published,
But that didn't stop me from doing what I wanted.
Now that I'm older, I realise just how much trouble
I'd have had to go through for them to publish me,
How many asses even normal people have to kiss.

When I was twenty one or so, I had given up
On what I cared about as a kid, to become an adult.
I would move to the capital, work at some job
(Live my life by rules invented by other people),
Get married to that girl, have a couple of kids,
Get verbally abused because I was insufficient
(I would be weak and take it, like my father),
Live in poverty and pay off all my debts.
I would soon forget all about what felt right,
As well as those weird dreams I had as a child.
I would forget that I never wanted to grow up
To just live the same old, boring routine,
And waste the rest of my life until I died.

When I was younger I thought that getting old
Would mean losing the motivation for living,
And that's mostly true, but I can still feel
The same desire I had as a child to create
(In spite of having to work a shitty 8 to 3).
I enjoy the feeling of translating
Into words what is inside me.

Even now, as I write this at work (at 9 PM),
I've never managed to land a stable job,
And given how I was born, I never will
(In addition, the world has gone to shit).
That means likely never owning a house,
Never having a wife, nor a bunch of kids
(Those are rare daydreams, gene-driven;
I lack the instinct to socialize).
I have lost this game, so I can write for fun
(I suppose I could kill myself;
There's always time for that down the line).

I'm thirty six years old these days,
And for the foreseeable future
(Until I turn thirty seven years old),
But mentally I'm eighteen or so,
And that's unlikely to change:
When I was a child I felt much older,
When I was eighteen I felt my age,
And from then on I failed to progress,
But those who had a problem were others
(Like romantic partners I had to impress).

I'm a single man for life, as far as I care,
Because I'm not giving up my stuff,
Everything that truly matters to me
(Everyone else can eat shit).
I'll keep writing until I die and rot away.
I'll always be able to use it to escape reality.

My point is, I remember you, Tim,
And the songs you used to make.
I hope you didn't die and shit.
I'm sure you got married, got kids,
And had to give up on your dreams
(Unless your dreams now involve
Being married and raising kids).

All's well that ends well
As long as you are happy,
But I have the sneaking suspicion
That you aren't, nor would I be;
Someone who hears the calling
Of the creative life can't be happy
Unless he cuts himself to bleed.

Blood flows from the wound
(That will only close when you die)
And from the heart, which can tell
That it was the blood's song
Which the artist heard,
A voice that said, 'Now paint!',
'Now write!', 'Now compose!'
(I'm not sure what musicians hear;
I never felt like writing a song,
But I play other people's songs).

It's as though the artist
Was a young boy again
(Or girl, I guess; I have a dick),
And his mother, watching him sleep,
Sang him lullabies in her breast
(I imagine big, soft breasts,
Perennially full of milk).

(I daydream of a woman
Who would let me suck on hers
For the entire day if I wanted,
No questions asked.)

The Menace From Our Underworld (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Hardy miners digging deep close to Neapolis
Were the first who broke into the sealed tunnels,
Where they came across an old statue
Of a humanoid beast carved in stone
It had unknown hieroglyphic symbols on it
The men went back up and told their friends:
"This is not just any temple or statues we've seen"
The miners followed the ancient tunnels and found
Cavernous chambers far down underground,
Under where Romans lived and died

As the miners wandered around the huge complex,
They could not believe what they saw:
The ruins were filled with gold and silver,
And precious gemstones they couldn't count,
And many marble statues, of cultures unknown,
Lay scattered all over, broken or standing upright,
While others had been smashed to pieces on the floor
So hard that some looked like jagged rocks

On many walls were carved words,
But none of the men had seen them before
The statues made of sandstone and limestone
Showed snakes coiled tightly or humanoid monsters
With horns growing straight out of their skulls
Some wore crowns while others held swords

It seemed like all of the wealth
Had been stashed away for safekeeping,
Or else for hiding or selling off
When trouble came knocking on the door

The Romans feared an uprising at any moment,
But it was the enemy they sought within,
For they discovered passages and secret places
Hidden for millennia in great walls of stone
Tunnels so old they are forgotten and lost
Stalactites drip stone on top of each other,
Mud drips off walls stained red with blood

Ancient peoples mined in the bedrock long ago
This is history hidden in plain sight,
Far below the city streets we walk above
A labyrinth of tunnels, rooms, halls, caverns
Pipes carrying water through the rock,
Vents venting air, drains and sewers emptying waste,
Ropes hanging below to reach platforms high overhead,
Floors covered in sawdust, mud oozing from cracks,
Iron bridges spanning deep chasms

Miners waiting in the sunlight heard dying groans
Only a few of the men clambered back to the surface
Their faces were pale, they showed signs of shock
The survivors spoke of evil spirits and daemons
That haunt the caverns deep underground,
So they sent messages back home to let everyone know
That they mustn’t try to dig through the solid rock ceiling,
Because there's lots of treasure hidden away below
Along with some very nasty creatures

As more of these tunnels were unearthed,
Fathers and mothers told their children, "Be careful!"
Little boys and girls said, "Don't go near them"
From then on there were always armed men
Spending whole nights on watch at those entrances

Paved roads were laid down to connect the various sites,
To facilitate the exploration of these deadly depths
In a bid to protect the empire, walls were built
Around the entranceway of the ancient crypts
Most citizens feared what lay underground,
But brave Romans fought hard to tame the horrors below

The legions of Rome began a great work of exploration
To search out and destroy these horrible nests
Of dark magic and foulness that haunted the earth
They learned that the tunnels spanned long distances:
Some reached as far as Beneventum,
Others stretched even farther, to Arretium,
Others to the east to the Bithynian port,
While one led to the middle of the Danube River
The tunnels branched and looped and wove together
In every direction under the ground,
Through the rivers and valleys and hills and moors,
Past the forests and the mountains and the lakes
Whole underground roads to the ends of the Empire,
All filled with previously unknown horrors

These new discoveries led the emperor to another fear:
There might be passages leading out into the wild lands,
And enemies could come up from behind to surround us,
For the Romans were constantly defending the borders
Against the barbarians who wanted to take our lands
He ordered a few legions to cross into hostile territory
And see if they could find exits to the outside world

Months after those doomed miners found the first ruin,
Rumors spread among the public at large
That these ruins held great wealth beside the dangers,
This led to increased interested in the 'Old Ruins',
As the locals throughout the empire called them
Many of the tunnels were located in the countryside,
And the towns had been built on top of them

Caesar Augustus issued a decree:
Every town had to send soldiers to guard the entrances
No civilian was allowed inside without his permission,
They should stay clear of all the paths and chambers
And keep out of any shafts or caves or ditches,
And avoid even looking into the gaping holes;
They did not want to stare into the eyes of a daemon,
Or any other danger lurking down within

Caesar Augustus bade them all:
If you ever hear a voice speak or shout in the depths
And it sounds like an angry man or woman,
Do not step inside and look around!
Though many ignored such warnings;
They began to dig into the ancient stone walls
To find hidden chambers full of gold and riches
It didn't take long for most of those explorers to die
Screaming for help and begging for their lives

Groups of wealthy merchants funded expeditions
To bring back proof of the ruins' worthiness
They hired mercenaries to guard the party's route
And disuade adventurers foolish enough
To attempt independent explorations
Mercenaries work well because they answer
Not to the laws, but to whoever pays them most
Here we have groups of young men and women,
Dressed in leather armor, with swords at their hips,
Who think they're invincible and they'll get rich
From the underground tunnels and the hidden treasure,
But they don't know what they're getting themselves into

Despite the high pay offered for such risks,
Many explorers didn't want to face the danger,
But others felt compelled to dig and delve,
Unearthing untold riches and priceless artifacts,
Like the precious gems, gold, and silver vessels
Found in the gigantic storehouses and caverns
Some men became rich from the goods brought home,
With the discoveries made in these secret places,
But others went missing, and some corpses were found
With arrows through their hearts or heads smashed in

In many ruins, the legionaries felt the presence of evil,
Powerful forces that brought fear and despair
The skulking daemons had done terrible things
To the men who had ventured too deep underground
They killed them, or dragged them further down
The ones lucky enough to escape alive,
They had been tortured, and maimed,
And their cut off pieces were left to rot upon the floor

The tunnels were filled with creatures that lurked
In the shadows of the broken statues and pillars
Covered in blood, mud, dust, and filth
Some of these monsters seemed to be made of stone
One was a giant with the head of a lion,
Another looked more like a monstrous ape
Some of the daemons had no skin at all,
Some had long arms and huge tentacles for hands
Others walked upright and were covered in hair,
And they carried clubs and rocks in their fists
Others were shaped like serpents and scorpions;
Their mouths dripped with poison and venom
Another looked to have been carved out of fire:
Its body glowed red-hot; the men felt the heat
When it opened its mouth, flames roared out
The monsters hid in the dark corners, watching, waiting
For anyone who dared enter their domains

These creatures were called the Daemons of the Dark,
And they'd been there before Rome existed at all

We needed leadership as Rome faced a terrible threat
From within its own borders to deal with
A famous expedition was carried out in the year 8 AD,
When the emperor, Augustus himself,
Ordered his finest men to go investigate
The complex of ruins found under Herculaneum
He brought in experts and scholars and engineers
To begin the task of mapping the lost chambers,
And also sent a centuria of veteran legionaries
To venture into the complex of limestone mazes

The emperor hoped to find answers about how to defend
Against these vicious beasts and daemons roaming free
The many legionaries fought valiantly to repel their foes;
Few monsters would withstand the onslaught
Of the elite contubernia in the subterranean warzones

The tunnels were so dark and winding
That only a contubernium could walk them at a time,
There was no light except what they carried
A torch or lantern gave off little in the way of illumination,
And it was difficult to see much of anything

The tunnels were heavily overgrown with mushrooms
Many of the passages were blocked by fallen rocks,
Or the path flooded down to ankle height
The men kept their weapons close, stayed alert for danger

They heard strange whispers and shrieks of agony
From beyond the cracks and crevices,
But they were unable to locate the source of those sounds

One contubernium ventured into the ancient crypts,
Led by the veteran decanus Septimius Drusus
The air was thick with foul odors and miasmas
From rotting corpses long since gone to dust
The legionaries shuddered at the sight of such filth
They carefully moved forward into the tunnels
And soon came across men with shattered bodies,
Hacked to pieces with swords or axes
Some had their stomachs slashed open,
Others' skulls were split wide
Like animals they lay dead on the ground
Clumps of flesh and brains oozed out onto the floor
The walls around them were splattered with gore

Rats squeaked as they crossed the only bridge
That spanned a subterranean river,
And the legionaries passed many old tombs
All long forgotten, some filled with bones

They paused for breath as they proceeded deeper,
Forcing their way through countless passages
Their torches burned low from frequent use
As they searched side-passages, walkways, staircases,
And even steps on which not much light shone

The soldiers chatted idly about their home,
How far away they lived, how many wives they had
They talked of mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters,
Of friends and neighbors they had left behind,
And spoke of the homes in the towns above ground
Where the people worked every day from dawn to dusk
Before returning home for a good meal and sleep

The legionaries pushed ahead, but came across
A horde of animated corpses, malevolent daemons
Who were still hungry and thirsty after all this time
The men hacked their way through this horde of undead
Some were rotten and fat, some looked like skeletons,
Others had no skin, just heads upon thin stalks,
Others appeared to be made entirely of bone,
But all these creatures were dead, and their bodies
Were covered in reeking black ooze,
And the stench of death was all around

It took what felt like an hour to fight off these fiends
Who had been trapped there forevermore
These cursed creatures would keep biting the men
Until their rotting bodies were torn apart
The contubernium lost two comrades that day,
But they ended the slaughtering of the wretched horde,
Conducted themselves well, bravely defending Rome
In service to His Majesty, Emperor Caesar Augustus

Septimius Drusus' men were exhausted,
And he ordered a break to rest, drink, take a piss
The water they carried was running short
The warriors gulped down the last of the wine
The decanus brought out his flute and played a tune,
While others sang a song in a loud voice
About the battles they fought against evil spirits,
The monsters that lurked in the ancient underworld
They were washing off the filth of blood, sweat, and mud,
And laughing at the silly things they'd heard before

They reached an iron door blocking further progress
With all their strength they turned a massive wheel,
And the door creaked open, revealing darkness beyond
Pushing onward, the legionaries went ever deeper
They soon came to what seemed an underground pond
Where three strange women bathed their naked bodies
The soldiers stared in awe at the oddity of this scene
The beautiful women were covered in greenish scales
Their eyes glowed like lamps as they stared at the men
They beckoned the Romans to approach them

Caesar's decanus, Septimius Drusus, told the men,
"Don't do it! Don't go near! They are nereids of the deep!"
Not a man moved as the beautiful women came closer
They seized one of the legionaries, then dragged him
Towards the pond as if to bring him into their realm
The women pressed themselves against the legionary
And kissed him repeatedly, holding him tight,
Rubbing their bodies up and down, moaning lustily
The legionaries were shocked to see this lewd display

The women tried to take off the legionary's armor
The soldier resisted fiercely, but he couldn't escape
"Enough!" Septimius roared. "We need to escape
While we still can. There's no time for such pleasures
With these bizarre nereids of the underworld!"
He pointed his sword at the horrific trio of beauties
And ordered the legionaries forward
The men grabbed their accosted companion,
Although the women were pulling him into the pool
Once the stunned man returned to the formation,
The nereids disappeared into the water, swallowed whole

The men were weary after a long journey through
Tunnels and chambers, covered in dust and dirt
They discovered a series of rooms and corridors
Filled with neat stacks of scrolls and books,
And ancient paintings on the walls depicting scenes
Of days long past, before this world began
The soldiers were amazed by the ornate statues
That adorned every corner and wall of the chamber
Ancient peoples carved these works of art,
Drawing upon their memories for inspiration

Here was a warrior god with his broadsword in hand
His eyes stared out at those who passed him by,
With hounds chasing fleeing victims in the sand
Men were shown being dragged, beaten, and flogged,
Then driven to the mines of the underworld
The slaves were forced to work in the dark,
Toil all day, until they collapsed, all worn-out
Some of the mine shafts were so narrow,
They could only be dug downward using hands

Deformed forms moved among the lavish riches:
Hideous monsters, lurching around with greedy eyes
At the sound they made, the legionaries drew swords
Leaving their torches beside the tunnel's mouth
They crept along the passageway with fear in their hearts
As the daemons slowly turned to face the intruders,
Those monstrosities looked like nothing seen:
They had huge heads, large gaping eye sockets,
Their skin was covered with scales of bright red,
A black cocoon of tentacles hung down to their waists,
They had three long arms and four legs ending in claws

They were hideous creatures that walked upright
Like apes or monkeys, but they were not human,
These monsters didn't speak, but shrieked and howled
They also emitted foul odors, their breath reeking
They wore ancient armor, and carried enormous spears
Although no one knew where they came from, nor why
There was not much discussion about what to do next

The legionaries had never been so frightened,
But they stood side by side in phalanx formation
The creatures ran at them, grunting and growling
The Romans felt the earth shake as their enemy came,
And they raised up their shields to stop the charge

The soldiers hacked and stabbed with their short blades
Thrusting them into the flesh of these monsters,
While the horrible beasts attacked the Romans
Throwing spears over the heads of their comrades
To impale or cut down the brave men of the legion

The daemons had no thought but to kill and destroy
Our men rushed forward to engage the monsters,
Wielding their swords and stabbing them in the head
Two of the legionaries were pierced and wounded,
But there was a great roar of fury as the beasts fell
The legionaries gritted their teeth in pain and suffering,
For the battle took its toll on them

A pale green glow illuminated one of the caves:
A skeletal humanoid hovered in the center,
Its fleshless body floating just above a glowing orb
It turned to look at the men and hissed out loud
As the ghastly apparition was approaching slowly,
The daemon dropped to the floor, landing close,
Then transformed from a hovering dead man
Into a hideous insectoid monster with three eyes

As it crawled forward, its hairy, elongated legs
Reached towards the legionaries' faces,
Who were now backed against a wall,
The sulfuric stench of the creature's breath
Scorched the noses of the terrified soldiers,
Their eyes watering and blinded by the fumes

They struggled to respond, their minds addled
One of the legionaries slashed the behemoth
The blade bit into its flesh, but did little damage
As the nightmare drew close, it opened wide
Revealing rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth
They sliced through the legionary's arm and leg,
And then the horrifying beast began feasting,
Gulping down the blood, slurping the marrow
The soldier was pinned to the wall by the huge jaws,
His hand grabbed and ripped away by the carnivore
The other legionaries were fighting back,
But the creature had an enormous strength

The insectoid's jaws snapped shut around the man,
Smashing his armor and torso to pieces,
Then it lifted the dripping remains from the floor
As it held them aloft in front of the crowd,
The daemon fixed its gaze on another soldier,
Who brandished his sword in defense
He could do nothing as the monster gobbled him up,
His body disappeared within those hungry maws

The decanus Septimius Drusus struck the beast in the back
The weapon found a weak spot and gouged the monster
A hot gush of blood spilled forth, to land
Upon the heads of the terrified, weary men
They looked up and saw the hideous bug squirming
When its monstrous form was thrown to the ground,
Another legionary swung his sword again,
Striking the beast hard, slicing off a leg
The hideous mutant screeched in agony, then jumped
And scurried away, leaving a trail of gore behind
The traumatized legionaries had had enough for the day
They retreated to the surface, where daylight reigned

Successive expeditions pressed on for weeks on end
A divided centuria kept fighting under Herculaneum
The men were tired, filthy, hungry, and thirsty
Hordes of monsters fell prey to the legions' weapons
Many legionaries were maimed and scarred,
More died before they could flee those hellish mazes
A few brought home riches beyond their wildest dreams
The survivors stumbled out of the tunnels ashen faced,
But victorious over all else

Of one contubernium, only one survivor emerged
He staggered out of the ancient tunnel and saw light,
The sun was shining, a beautiful blue sky overhead
The man was an orphan, barely twenty years old
His eyes were dull, and distant, like he wasn't there
He was covered in blood, his hand clutched a ring:
A silver band adorned with gems caught the light
The gold inside gleamed brightly, warm, alive
With a final gasp, he collapsed onto the paved road

Many years passed, many legionaries were slain
As they pushed deeper into the unending darkness,
So they could one day certify that no enemy remained
In those ancient halls of death and destruction
Some men carved words in the stone, to warn others:
"Do not enter here! Beware the nereids of the deep!"

The philosophers of the time were beset by nightmares
Of unceasing hordes of otherworldly monsters
Clambering into the Roman towns from the tunnels below,
Determined to overrun every settlement they saw
To devour men and women or just make slaves
The scholars tried to solve the riddle of these creatures:
Where did they come from? Why are they attacking us?
How can we fight them, and survive to tell the tale?

The philosopher Pliny the Elder wrote in his treatise
'The Denizens Of The Deep Underground Tunnels Are Real',
"These strange subterranean creatures are indeed real
They're not myths or legends, but living beings
That inhabit some of the deepest caves in the world
The legions march into the dark labyrinths,
Screaming their battle cry, 'Forward, forward,
We'll find the secrets of the underworld!'
It is the duty of the army to exterminate them
If we fail, then we'll be forced to live in terror!"

Pliny's words didn't help the citizens of the empire
Who were plagued by dreadful nightmares and visions,
Worried about being attacked by subterranean horrors
Some people locked themselves in their homes at night,
Trying to sleep with the lights burning bright,
While others slept with a dagger nearby,
And they whispered stories of terrible encounters
Where darkness swallowed men whole, who dared venture
Into these ancient catacombs were daemons reigned

The Senate debated, but those men could offer little help
One senator suggested the beasts came out of the earth
Like maggots, and rose up to feed on human flesh
Other senators disagreed, saying the monsters
Were simply victims of ancient cataclysmic disaster,
From aeons past when thick ice sheets covered the world
Some argued that the catacombs were the perfect refuge,
And would provide them with protection in times of war
The Romans debate, and have no idea what to do
As they stare at the wondrous maps of the underworld,
Which show the location of passages and chambers
That connect directly to the surface above,
As well as the locations of statues and paintings,
Many of them depicting scenes of gods and goddesses
That none of the men present could begin to name

One of the senators stood up, and offered his thoughts:
"If I may be so bold as to speak my mind,
I believe the emperor is making a terrible mistake
My colleagues don't seem to agree,
And call me paranoid and insane
When I say the monsters are hiding in our midst
They might not look it, but they're more than animals
These creatures are superior beings who were once men
They have learned to disguise themselves,
They lure unsuspecting men, women and children,
And then they strike, with a swiftness that cannot fail
These daemons leave a trail of corpses in their wake
They killed hundreds, left even more maimed and broken
A few brave survivors escaped into the daylight,
Others were trapped inside the tunnels, unable to climb
Vast numbers of the enemy slain, yet still we fall
They made a mockery of our immortal legions,
And now the monsters feast upon our brave men"

The senate was stunned by this speech
Some of the men whispered among themselves
They asked the speaker if he had any proof,
Or just repeated wild stories from the streets
The man raised his voice, and told the senators
What they already knew in their cowardly hearts:
"We've lost the legions, and the empire is doomed!"

They feared that the old gods, who had ruled before,
Would rise up and destroy the eternal empire
They imagined scores of monsters and daemons
Reaching Rome itself and burning it to the ground
We keep praying to our own gods, to save civilization
From the barbarous horrors of our underworld

While the emperor pondered what to do next,
His generals advised him against further exploration
Rome faced many enemies, including those inside
No amount of manpower would clear those halls
The Senate agreed, and the entire operation ceased
The ancient tunnels were sealed, the entrances blocked,
And the scarred legionaries returned home to rest,
Their work done for the year, but they couldn't forget
About the terrible creatures in the dark below

There is a secret, hidden history to be found,
In an age when the world yielded to the dawn:
The dark tunnels remain, hidden underground
Daemons lurk in the death-filled labyrinths,
Prisoners of a past age, trapped for aeons,
Waiting to find their way out again

We built walls to defend against outside threats,
And now the walls keep our monsters penned within

Happiness Is a Warm Cat Girl (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

How would I tolerate these infernal workdays,
Having to walk back home when the moon is out,
If my precious housewife wasn't here to welcome me?
I would get drunk on sake by my old lonesome,
But now I drink at home just for fun, with Manami,
The one person who knows how to make it right:
My cat girl, whom I love more than anything else.

As I hold the keys, Manami opens my apartment's door
And looks at me while her tail sticks straight up.
Her face is so cute, with blue eyes that look like saucers,
And a nose that seems to be made of porcelain.
She smells so nice, like flowers and fresh rainwater.

Manami beams. "Welcome home, master!"
She leaps into my arms and hugs me tight.
I stroke her silky coat and caress her head,
While she rubs her soft face on mine and purrs.
"You're such an adorable creature," I say to her.
Manami loves me endlessly, like any good girl should.

She leads me by the hand into my tiny living room.
Her tail swishes side to side, wagging happily as we go.
I lie down on the sofa and put my head on her lap.
Manami pets my hair as I stare at the ceiling lights.

"Did you have a good day at work?" she asks gently.
Without Manami, I'd only have complaints,
But now I know what real happiness feels like.
My cat girl is my darling companion,
She comforts me from loneliness and pain.
Nothing remains of that tiresome world
Except this cramped place where we live together.

"It was exhausting as usual, and also boring.
Whatever wasn't boring made me want to die.
But none of that matters now that I can rest
By feeling my precious girl's fingers in my scalp."

We talk softly like lovers do, our heads close,
Friends who can share their deepest secrets.
Our conversation is never boring or stale.
Manami helps me cope with everyday stress.
A ray of hope makes everything seem less bleak.
With my cat girl, life isn't a chore anymore.

What better way to spend every night
Than cuddling with my beloved Manami
In bed, under warm blankets,
With no other sounds but ours?

When I wake up late at night to pee,
I see my favorite feline sleeping next to me,
Those big, beautiful eyes closed shut.
Her breath smells like warm milk.

Manami's peaceful expression makes me smile.
No matter if she sleeps soundly or snores loudly,
Or whether she drools or pukes,
Still I keep holding her warm body against me.

There are more than enough reasons
Why I should love this beautiful creature.
When I pet Manami, I feel a little thrill
That makes me want to take care of her.
She purrs, licks my face, serves as a pillow,
Is warm and soothing and always there,
And whenever I remember her smiling face,
All I can think of is how much I adore her.

Sometimes she sings songs to help me relax,
Or she tells silly jokes to cheer me up.
Even though I've told her many things before,
She always listens attentively and nods her head.

"Master," she says, "I want to go to the park."
"I'll take you there. We can play ball games,
Or chase each other around,
Or we can just sit together on a bench
And watch the world pass us by."
"That sounds wonderful, Master! Thank you!"

Our country's brutal office culture
Has led to many public suicides,
But the economy needed to keep going,
And I couldn't afford to take a pay cut.

For two decades, I had gone to work
And returned home too tired to live.
I hadn't dated anyone since high school.
I still dreamed of those girls, who were so cool.
I missed singing at the karaoke, going out for drinks.
I had forgotten how being young used to feel.

One day, I decided to try online dating.
I only received messages that said stuff like,
"Your profile has been flagged as spam,
Please remove it immediately."

Japan solved our troubles through technology.
Some genius managed to mix human and cat DNA.
It was a matter of breeding loving, loyal hybrids
Who would support the tired mass of workers.
They became a wild hit with both sexes,
And the government made it legal to marry them.

One thing I had never experienced before
Was having someone who really cared about me.
I am a withdrawn man, and I had lived alone
Since graduating college twenty years ago.
Nothing made any sense, my life felt meaningless,
But with my cat girl, I finally found real love.

In Manami's presence, I can forget my woes;
I feel like my heart is wrapped in cotton wool.
She gives me hope when I'm down on my knees,
She comforts and supports me during bad times.
Dating humans is too hard, women too demanding;
I don't want anybody but my cat girl housewife.

She never complains about our daily chores
(She does them eagerly, even cleans the dishes).
She cooks delicious meals (she loves canned tuna).
She's very knowledgeable about manga and anime.
She knows all the best places to eat sushi.

She can predict the weather and earthquakes,
And tell me if the stock market will go up,
Or whether to bet on baseball, football, or sumo.
She also predicts the outcome of elections.

Every night we cuddle under the sheets.
Her purr vibrates throughout my body
As she rubs my back and shoulders gently.
She bites my neck, making me moan.
Sensing I'm excited, she licks me like mad,
And her barbed tongue prickles my skin.
My cat girl trembles as I fondle her ass
While her fluffy tail twitches in delight.

Manami runs her soft fur across my chest
As she kisses my torso on her way down.
My penis is standing straight up,
Aching for her mouth to wrap around it.
I'm not sure how to describe the feeling
Of my cat girl licking my dick.

As we embrace, our tongues dance intertwined.
Manami tastes like fish, and that's okay.
She moans and writhes while I rub her pointy ears,
She's wet and eager as I plunge into her hole.

Her vagina grips me tightly, sucks on it like a straw.
My balls churn with sperm, preparing to shoot.
With our bodies pressed close we reach an orgasm.
We shudder, groan, pant, twitch, shake, spasm.

"Oh, master! I can't believe how hard I came!"
We lie exhausted, enjoying each other's warmth,
Until Manami stretches and yawns gently.
"I am sleepy, master. Let us sleep now?"

I shake myself awake from a vivid dream
About being fucked by the president,
But Manami's fur is tickling my belly button.
I stroke her head, caress her silky back.
When I roll over, she climbs onto my chest
To pull my earlobe between her teeth.

I pet my cat girl as she masturbates.
The sight of Manami fingering herself
Puts me in the mood to do it myself too.
My dick is rock hard and my cat girl is wet.

As I eat breakfast, she prepares me a bento box
So I will remember my beloved during my break.
I smile and say, "Thank you" to my beautiful girl.
She watches me bring the chopsticks to my mouth
While she strokes my hair with her warm paws.
Sometimes as I chew, she nibbles my earlobe.

She leaves me love notes in my bento box:
"Meow, meow – I love you!"
"I'm so glad you're my owner!"
"I hope you miss me and buy me lots of treats!"
"Your eyes looked so sad yesterday,
I will give you some comforting petting tonight."
"To my beloved who shares all his dreams with me."

She's my precious girl, the only one I want.
I waste so much time away from her.
I can barely wait to leave this rotten office
And return home to cuddle up with Manami.

As I eat the lunch she prepared lovingly,
I smile and send her messages with my phone.
"I'll be back soon, my darling."
"Thank you for making me happy."
"My cat girl is the most wonderful creature."
"I love you more than I could have imagined."
"I'll be thinking of you while I work today."
"I wish you'd come to my office."
"You could work here if you wanted."
My cat girl has always been smarter than me.
She's a talented programmer and researcher,
And I can't even do basic math correctly.

Manami is my partner in crime, my sidekick.
On my days off, we play video games,
We watch the hottest anime of the season,
She scratches the walls of my apartment,
She listens to me cry,
We wrestle naked (she gets rough
And bites me, and I bite her back),
Sometimes she gets overstimulated
And runs around for no reason,
We take baths together,
We have the most loving sex.
I feel like I'm living a dream.

Manami is the only person in my world
Who doesn't treat me like a nuisance.
I can't imagine my life without my cat girl.
She's the greatest joy in this lonely road.
If it wasn't for her, I'd die in a ditch.
I would kill the entire human race.

"Manami," I say, "we're going drinking tonight!"
She's thrilled. Her saucer eyes light up like UFOs.
We visit a bar somewhere in Roppongi.
Manami looks gorgeous, wearing a mini skirt
And a blouse that shows off her cleavage.
Her high heels are a real turn-on.
I can't wait to check out her panties.

Once we've gotten tipsy enough,
I offer her to go to an all-you-can-eat buffet.
The sushi is good and the sashimi is great.
I point at the delicious fried shrimp,
But Manami has her mind on other things.
"Meow, meow – I want those chicken wings!"

Getting drunk on sake always arouses her.
My cat girl's eyes get wide and glassy like a cat's
As she loses control of her motor skills.
She scratches me with her claws until I bleed.

Cat girls are immortal; she will outlive me.
It saddens me to think that I'll leave this world
To go somewhere far away from my beloved.
When I am gone, Manami will have no one,
And she'll cry all night long in my absence.
I just hope she'll find someone else to love.

One of these days, those scientists will discover
How we can finally make our cat girls pregnant,
And we will bring forth the most beautiful world,
One filled with a myriad of our furry kids.

A Chaperone for Hybrids (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

They first abducted me in the woods,
Where I went to play the guitar in peace.
I suddenly felt something strange,
An electric shock that ran down my spine.
My heart was beating fast, my body trembled.
The sky sounded like a machine was drilling,
And lights flashed above me like lightning.

A shadow fell over me, making me freeze.
It was projected by an enormous black ship.
Then, a strange voice spoke from far away,
"You are going to help us with our research."
I tried to run but it felt like a force field
Took hold of me and dragged me up.

When I woke up in their ship,
I first noticed the aliens' eyes:
Large, oval, and protruding,
Bright blue with an intensity
Like no other color I had seen.
Their pupils are small black dots
That stared at me unblinkingly
With a dreadful curiosity.

Their skin is a pale greenish-blue
That remind me of the ocean.
They smell nice, fresh and clean,
Very different from my own scent,
But these freaks are hairless
Except for their eyebrows,
And wisps of white around their ears
Which resemble antennae.

They communicate through telepathy,
As I had already expected.
Their voices sound in my head
Like thunder or rolling waves.

They probably think we are primitive
Merely because we vocalize to speak.
This is only partially correct,
Because we also use body language
To express our thoughts and feelings.

The aliens are as stoic as they come:
They never smile nor frown,
Nor use their hands to gesture.
I doubt they feel joy or anger,
Or possibly even sadness.
It would explain why they didn't have a clue
About why humankind came to be so fucked,
And it meant that we wouldn't get along;
Most of our behaviors don't make sense
Unless you think in terms of fun,
Or the primitive joy of destruction,
Or wanting to cum.

Due to the aliens' telepathic nature,
They can share knowledge instantly,
Maybe while still maintaining privacy.
It took them long to figure out
That we can't transmit our thoughts.
It might be hard to understand
How a complex society would succeed
When you can't hear others in your mind.

As I lay down on an operating table,
They checked my vitals and drew my blood.
My heart rate increased,
My brain was buzzing like mad.
I started to sweat in the cool room.
The aliens explained that they would take
Some of my cells and analyze them
To find the DNA and check for mutations.

I had already read about abductions,
And I had wondered how I would react.
I wanted these far more intelligent beings
To consider me a fellow sentient creature,
If only to disuade them from butchering me,
So I didn't curse, yell, cry, nor plead;
I just remained calm, polite and quiet.
They'd return me when they were done,
Or else they'd dissect me and put me in a jar.
In either case, I wouldn't be able to do shit.

I hoped that they wouldn't smell my fear.
I felt like they could take any part of me,
From my toes to my dick.
I feared that they might cut off my balls
For the sake of science.

I tried to get friendly with their leader,
Or at least the one who called the shots.
He answered me in perfect English
(But I only heard his voice in my head).
He said that he was a doctor
Who specialized in genetics and biology.
I asked him where they were from.

"We're from the planet VX-742."
"Well, that doesn't mean much to me,
But nice to meet you, fellow people,
Because I hope you keep in mind
That I'm a person who would suffer pain,
Potentially harrowing amounts of it,
If you were to shove those sharp tools
Into any part of this fragile body."
"Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you."
I wiped the sweat off my forehead.
"Yes, you always say that kind of shit.
Are you guys going to kill me?"
"No, we just want to study you."

I thought about cattle mutilations,
And the Guarapiranga Reservoir
(That man whose eyes, ears, tongue
And genitalia had been removed,
As well as the digestive organs,
With no signs of decomposition).
I wanted to bring up my abduction,
But I could tell that they wouldn't care
(Or even worse, they wouldn't understand).

"So, do you guys have FTL drives?"
I asked the aliens, with a smile.
They seemed surprised by my question,
They didn't understand what it meant.
"I wanted to know about how fast
This cool spaceship of yours goes," I said.
"You don't have to worry about the speed,
Because we can go anywhere in space."
I was excited about their discovery,
If only because humans might partake
(If we pass through the Great Filter).
They were confused by my agitation,
But they were kind enough to clarify.
"We don't need to use fuel, our energy is infinite,
And we can just stop at the nearest star."
"What? You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

I thought about all the work it took
To build something complex like a car,
Or a computer chip or an iPhone.
Hell, I wouldn't know how to create a chair.
These people had become their own gods.

I felt so insignificant in front of them,
But the aliens remained calm as I asked,
"Alright, so do you have music, or books?"
"Music and reading are primitive things
Which we don't use anymore,
We have more advanced technologies,
But we are in the process of cataloguing
All the artistic production of your race."

As a guitar player, that hurt,
But if I told them to fuck off,
They would dissect me like a frog.
"Do you know any good musicians,
Or writers who are doing great stuff?"
"We know many artists, but we haven't
Discovered anyone worth mentioning yet."

I couldn't think of anything else to ask,
And I suddenly wanted to remain silent,
So I lay back and let them examine me.
One of the aliens used a weird device
To scan my brain and nervous system.
A few of the aliens touched my skin:
They seemed to be studying the texture.

Another alien pulled out a scalpel,
And I knew for sure I was about to die,
But he cut open my shirt to see my chest.
He could just have asked me to unbutton it.
I wondered if they would reimburse the damage.

I had a feeling they were checking out my ass.
I hoped they wouldn't discover my prostate.
They took pictures of every inch of me
With a floating eyeball that seemed sentient.

I could hear the aliens talking inside my head
(It sounded like a crowd of drunken fans).
"I'd say he is a healthy specimen,
Although his heart rate seems too high.
The muscles in his legs and arms look strong.
His nipples are erect; he's aroused.
He has very large testicles,
And his penis is well-developed."
(But I might have imagined this part.)

Another alien went inside my mouth
With a long probe that made me squirm.
They removed some tissue from my throat.
They also took samples of my hair.
I was getting sick and nauseous from seeing
Their bizarre alien faces so close to mine.

The aliens took samples of semen
Despite my shrivelled balls
(I was cold, and containing my fear).
They had conjured a fancy hallucination:
As I lay on a paradisiac beach in the sunset,
I was approached by a Hollywood actress,
Who intended to seduce me of all people.
She wore a red dress with short sleeves,
And her breasts looked so big and soft.
As she kissed me, her nipples were erect.
(I could tell that this wasn't real,
But I wanted to believe in that world.)

After the mirage fondled me for a while,
I came into an artificial vagina
That a dispassionate alien was holding,
As if I were your average bull stud.

"You're fertile, you have excellent sperm,"
An alien said, but I felt violated.
That alien added unnecessary info:
"Your ejaculate contains a lot of fructose,
Which makes it ideal for our hybridization."

I likely became the proud father
Of a whole series of hybrid children
That hopefully won't require child support.

One of the humans they had abducted,
An old, frail lady who would have fainted
Merely by checking out her face in the mirror,
As soon as she regained consciousness
She suffered a heart attack and died.

The aliens didn't react with emotion;
It's almost as if they don't feel pain,
So they can barely understand it.
They must be inhuman beings
Besides being technically aliens.

I thought of all the humans I've known,
From the homeless to the billionaires;
All the politicians, journalists,
And even my teachers at school.
They are all people, not a bunch
Of soulless machines.

The aliens cut that old woman open calmly,
And took out what they thought was necessary.
They removed her skin with a laser cutter
Without mercy for her old flesh and bone.

I told them this abducting business is wrong,
That they shouldn't be experimenting on us,
But they said they would do so anyway
Because there was too much data available
From our brains, and from our DNA,
To learn more about human biology,
And they wanted to study our race
So they could better understand how
Humans think, feel, and make decisions.

They seemed to have a lot of respect
For humankind, despite their crimes
(Both the aliens' and ours, I guess).
I wondered if they would use this info
To decide whether or not to destroy us,
And I wasn't too confident in the odds
(I would probably destroy us if I could).

Because I didn't freak out like the others
(A woman in her thirties had peed herself,
And was hugging her knees while sobbing),
I felt a sense of camaraderie with the aliens.
"I hope you guys don't get caught and killed
By some human group trying to capture you."
"Don't worry. We're protected by a force field
That prevents us from being seen."

I asked them about the Great Filter.
They had passed it many millennia ago.
"We exist in a universe where we could live forever,
And we are free to create whatever lifeforms
We want without worrying about extinction."
"What? You mean you created other species?"
"Yes, we have gone through millions of forms
In order to find ones that were suitable."
"You guys didn't create human beings, right?"
"We wouldn't create a primitive species."

The aliens said I had the potential
To become one of their most trusted allies,
But only after undergoing training.
They needed my help to reach more humans,
So they offered me to work for them.

I asked how I would get paid,
But it seemed that money was a concept
That the aliens couldn't understand
(Or they pretended they didn't).
They said my payment would come in time,
When I helped them achieve their goals.

"What are your goals, exactly?" I asked.
They told me that humanity had been stagnant
For too long, we were like a shipwreck.
We had to move forward or else die.

As I pondered their ominous words,
The aliens enticed me with benefits:
They would provide food, water, shelter,
A place to sleep at night, and sex.
They insisted about the available sex.
If I wanted sex, I just had to say, "Please."
I wouldn't need to worry about loneliness.

Intrigued, I inquired about their whores,
Or alien prostitutes, the preferred term.
The poor girls were artificial hybrids
Made from human and some aliens' DNA
(They clarified that it came from different aliens,
Another species they experimented on).
My abductors said that I wouldn't need to pay,
They wouldn't even ask for my ID.

I took one look at those hybrid prostitutes,
Who looked like beautiful human women
Except with bulging, compound insectoid eyes.
They were clever enough to know all the moves.
I felt sorry about their lot in life,
But their mouths and pussies did wonders.

After one of those sexual encounters ended
And I lay on an alien mattress with the hybrid,
I caressed her naked back and kissed her neck.
Her bulging eyes were freaky, but whatever;
I hated plenty of stuff about my own body.

"Are you happy being an alien prostitute?"
I wished to know, although I feared the answer.
"Yes. I'm always happy no matter what."
I realized that she wasn't exaggerating;
I couldn't sense any apprehension towards me,
Nor about her life as a likely sexual slave.
She was proud of being the property
Of these aliens, and even stated so.
"They're kind, they give us everything we want."

It was easy to give someone what they wanted,
If they could only want what you wanted,
And if they didn't care about anything
But getting laid, then everyone's a winner.

"Are you able to experience any discomfort
Like anxiety, sadness, depression, or other ills
With which us humans constantly struggle?"
I asked, but I didn't want to hear the answer.
"No, we don't feel pain nor suffering.
We are forever young, we will never decay,
And if something damages us,
Our bodies can be repaired easily.
Besides, we're too busy having sex
With as many people as we can find."

I couldn't decide whether to pity this hybrid;
My life was dependent on lessening pain.
But her body was warm and her skin soft.
I would leave those dilemmas for academics.

Despite the aliens' generous offer,
I refused to live in their ship.
I am a human, goddamn it,
And these fuckers kidnapped me.
I had to witness how they experimented
On the other hapless people,
Around ten of them in the same room.
The aliens didn't give a shit
If the humans cried in terror,
So I would stay here, in this world of mine
That contains mostly things I don't like.

The aliens didn't seem to understand
Why I was so reluctant to stay;
They thought I would be grateful
That they would have taken me away
From the horrors of human society,
But I told them I wasn't a sadist,
And I didn't want to see humans suffer.
The aliens' expressions remained vacant.

After they returned me back home,
I was happy that they hadn't murdered me,
So I casually welcomed meeting them again.
They promised that they would come back,
Because a chill human could help their goals
(They didn't put it in those words).

Although I wanted to tell the whole world
About my disconcerting experience,
I would be another babbling loon
For the majority of this fucked up species.

I had been abducted with other folks,
But I never expected to come across
One of such sufferers in civilian clothes,
Until I talked with a friend of mine,
A dopehead who couldn't find a job.
Although she had also been abducted,
She believed it had been a hallucination.

"Yeah man, I was totally wasted
When I saw a UFO land.
It was so bizarre and cool.
They had these big fucking eyes,
All bright blue and shit,
And I felt like I was flying!"

She didn't believe me
Even when I showed her the scars
From the alien surgical tools,
So there was no point in telling others.

As they days passed, I grew jumpy;
I had nightmares about being abducted,
And I had developed something like PTSD.
These fucking aliens were fiends.
Kidnapping people is a violent act,
No matter how cool they acted about it.
They must have been malicious by default,
Or at the very least chaotic neutral.

They cared for us like we care for bears,
In the sense that we study them,
In some cases share cool moments
(Like enticing them with food to wave,
While recording it for YouTube),
A few freaks try to fuck them,
But otherwise we stay away,
Because bears can get homicidal
Against nearby human beings
Who were merely standing around
(Either because they feared for the cubs,
Or just because bears are angry maniacs).

But I did empathize with the wariness
That the aliens displayed about us:
I would have chosen to be a giraffe
Instead.

I suspected that these aliens had abducted
Many people from different countries
For their scientific research,
And had kept many of them
As pets, or as slaves of any kind.

The aliens weren't forthcoming
About the truth of these matters,
But whenever I was abducted again,
I asked the aliens to take care of them,
Of the other abducted people I mean,
So they wouldn't die of hunger or thirst,
And to contact me if they needed help
(The alien fuckers, I mean),
As apparently I worked for them.

They have abducted me many times
Since that night they offered me sex.
They introduced me to hybrid people
Who look like beautiful humans,
Both men and women, some children,
But they had no clue how to behave
In what we consider a civilized society,
Because they grew up in alien ships
Or wherever the fuck they hide them.

Some of the hybrids are hot women,
Which makes this whole thing creepy,
Or I guess that's what I should say
(Hard to know if the aliens were going
For a science project or a fetish).

Anyway, my job is to hang out
With these hybrid freaks
As their professional guide,
And teach them how to fit in
So they can infiltrate human society.
I've become an expert on the subject;
I'm a walking encyclopedia
On the matter of passing for normal.

Every day I woke up at dawn
To meet with a group of hybrids
That the aliens had beamed down.
I strolled with them around town,
And sometimes outside in nature.
I took them to stores, libraries,
Banks, schools, parks, hospitals,
As I tried to explain to them
The ins and outs of human culture.

I taught them how to buy groceries
Whether with cash or a credit card,
How to use the ATM machines,
How to socialize with humans,
How to dress and act in public
To avoid arousing suspicion,
How to go shopping for clothes,
How to read the menu in a restaurant,
What it means when someone asks,
"Do you want fries with your burger?"
(I'm not sure they understand
The concept of 'fries', but whatever),
How to make an appointment
At the doctor or dentist,
When and how to read a map,
What places they could go to
Without getting mugged,
How to drive cars and ride buses,
How to register to vote,
How to apply for a loan,
How to pay their taxes,
How to handle firearms,
Which women are the hottest,
How to deal with police officers
To avoid getting arrested
Or shot in the face,
Which groups of people to avoid,
And a myriad of other basic stuff.

They were growing
Into handsome people.
I would have been proud
If I wasn't so creeped out.

I had been feeling guilty for a while
Because this was an attempt at infiltration,
Probably with some nefarious purpose,
And I was a traitor to humanity
Who gave up our race for some hybrid pussy.
I was just trying to save these experiments
From themselves and from the aliens.

Because the hybrids hadn't been raised here,
They may never be able to survive on Earth.
I mean, you couldn't teach those feral children
After they learned about manners from wolves.
I feared what would happen to these freaks
If the aliens considered their batch a failure.

I was trying to befriend some of the hybrids,
Treat them like regular folks instead of spies.
One hybrid was a cute brunette girl, twenty or so.
I think she's from Spain, at least some of her DNA.

"What name did the aliens give you?" I asked.
She had trouble understanding the question.
"Human beings refer to each other by names,"
I clarified, "so what's your name?"
The girl shrugged. "I don't have one of those."
"Why not? How would I refer to you in particular?"
"We don't need identifiers. We're all the same species."

I stared at her for a moment and then asked,
"Are your alien overlords space communists?
You people aren't a hive mind, you have to speak
Using that beautiful hybrid mouth of yours."
The hybrids just laughed, although I was serious;
Space communism is a perilous matter.
Still, I was surprised that they had felt such joy.
I guess that the aliens left that human part in.

"We can speak through our mouths,"
Said one of the hybrid men, who looks Swedish,
"But also through telepathy, like our leaders.
We keep transmitting brain waves to each other."
I tried to stay friendly to this bunch of weirdoes.
"I suppose that if I had to choose my fate,
I'd rather be a telepathic slave than a dumb animal."

I didn't know how to treat these hybrids.
They didn't seem like bad guys,
But I can't stand communists,
So I wanted to avoid getting beguiled by them
And particularly developing crushes on some,
No matter how cute or brunette they were.

"You have to choose a name for yourself,"
I said to the dangerously hot hybrid from Spain.
She thought for a while and then answered,
"My name is Liesl, like in 'The Sound of Music'."
I had no clue what she was talking about.

"Liesl, individuality is the greatest thing,
It differentiates us from other creatures,
So when you die, hopefully never,
People will be able to say, 'that was Liesl,
And not just another nameless, hybrid freak'.
You have to resist your alien overlords."
As she smiled at me, I felt a tingle in my balls.
I wish the two of us had been alone.

Liesl was so clueless and innocent, and hot,
That I couldn't help but be attracted to her.
Her eyes are blue, her lips full and red
As if painted on a canvas of soft pink.
They are the most sensual lips.
Most nights, when I close my eyes,
I still see them in my mind.

The way she held herself, the way she moved,
Her voice, and especially the smell of her hair,
All made her seem like an angel, or a goddess.
Her hips swayed seductively as she walked.
I found myself staring at the nape of her neck
And also down at her fine ass.
I kept daydreaming about how it would feel
To kiss Liesl's soft lips, and hold her in bed.

She was curious about everything,
She was always eager to listen to me.
I wished to teach her all about
The beauty of life, and the value of love.

I taught her how to play the guitar.
We practiced together some of my songs
As she sang along to the lyrics.
She had a natural talent for music.
Our voices harmonized perfectly
Although we were from different worlds,
Although our species didn't match.
I could tell that she was a kindred soul
Who understood what I was trying to say.

I was a man in his twenties, damn it,
Who was abducted by aliens
Like a couple dozen times,
Who gave him a stable job
For the sole purpose of teaching these hybrids
How to pass for regular human beings,
And I wanted to see them succeed
If only because I was the one teaching them,
But I didn't want Earth to end up conquered
By communists of any origin,
And the more I thought about my circumstances,
The more I believed that they must be commies,
Because they did this whole thing forcefully,
And they were mainly paying me in whores.

A few months later, the aliens informed me
That I was to enroll in college with some hybrids.
I thought they were high on their formaldehyde;
The college wouldn't accept a high school dropout.
But turns out that the dean was a hybrid
From a successful previous generation,
And it wasn't any effort to forge my documents.
That was a huge lesson that made me paranoid;
I started wondering which big shots were hybrids.
The government and the media were suspect.

I was living on campus, in a dormitory.
Liesl was attending classes too.
I tried to take all of her courses,
And I met her every morning at breakfast
In the dining hall, then again at lunch.
I figured it was time, as a fellow student,
To finally get entangled to my beloved hybrid.

I had a hard time focusing on studying,
Because the aliens didn't need to sleep:
I always had to wake up at dawn,
Although they abducted me some nights.

I intended for Liesl and I to become a couple.
I would teach her all about making out,
As well as the most loving sex acts
(Part of my job as their chaperone),
But some other guy asked her out first.

He played basketball for the local team,
And was here on a sports scholarship.
I had never experienced such jealousy.
That bastard only wanted to fuck Liesl.
She didn't know what she was getting into,
So I had to warn her to avoid men like him.

When I told her that she couldn't go on dates
With random guys, she looked at me confused.
"I am supposed to learn about human society,
And I should prepare myself for matrimony."
I gasped, then grasped her innocent hands.
"Liesl, you don't even have a name,
You stole one from some old movie.
You are supposed to be handled with care
By someone who knows you are a freak,
Not an animal, not a normal person,
Just a beautiful, strange creature
That the aliens created for fun and profit."

My heart was pounding, but I stopped talking.
I was afraid that Liesl would leave me.
I couldn't bear to see her hurt or scared,
And she needed somebody to protect her.

She was shocked that I cared so much.
I was the first person she ever met
Who understood her needs,
And who was also friends with her pals.
She said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Gulliver,
But our leaders insisted that we mingled
With the locals who weren't abducted."

"Liesl, my last name isn't Gulliver,
But I guess you may invent me one,
Because you are so cute and brunette.
Anyway, I swear I will teach you love,
As well as how to fuck like an animal,
And one day we'll have a weird spawn
With possibly corrupted DNA."

I tried to kiss Liesl, but she backed away.
I felt so dirty. I couldn't resist my urges.
I was ashamed of my weakness and lust.
"Mr. Gulliver, we can't do this,"
She whispered as if it were a secret.

I held her hand although mine trembled.
I could barely look into her doe eyes.
"You are too innocent for this world!
You don't understand how humans are.
If you open yourself up to these beasts,
They will destroy your pure heart.
Haven't I handled you with care?"

"You have, and I'm grateful to you,
But nothing can interfere with the plan.
My high IQ, along with intensive studying
And the careful guidance that you imparted,
Will allow me to become a journalist,
A scholar, a researcher, or a politician.
Some of us will become presidents."

My heart dropped by the way she spoke.
I wanted to teach her everything good,
But it was a waste of fucking time:
Although her eyes were full of innocence,
Her mind was filled with alien thoughts.

I felt like I had been stabbed in the chest.
Why couldn't I have a normal college love?
I wanted to be a good father to Liesl's kids.
I would have done my duty to pass humanity
To my half-hybrid, half-human offspring.
I didn't know if I was ready for that life,
But I knew that I would never betray her.

I never even met my hybrid children
That the aliens created from my stolen sperm.
I would have accepted my little freaks
Even if they turned out to have horse faces.

"I fell in love with you, Liesl," I confessed,
"Are you able to understand what that is?"
Liesl looked down, and then she said,
"I don't really get it, but I am happy
That you came to feel that way for me."

I wanted to take her into my arms,
But I knew that I wouldn't be allowed.
"You are always happy, Liesl," I said bitterly,
"Those aliens designed you that way.
I still haven't decided whether to pity you
Or envy you for being so clueless, or fear you,
Or rejoice for the future of my broken species."

Liesl smiled, then she hugged me tightly.
"We are the same, Mr. Gulliver.
We carry the instructions of our ancient race."
I cried into her hybrid neck.
"You have no clue what you're talking about,
And my last name isn't Gulliver."

Liesl dated that basketball player,
Then dated some other guys,
Graduated with honors,
Got an analyst job at a think tank,
Eventually got married,
And raised a boy and a girl.

I kept in touch with her, at least at first.
I ended up loving the bottle instead.
I feel like shit, I hate the aliens,
But I admit that they did a good thing:
They saved us from a life of loneliness,
And a future of wretchedness and mayhem.

I keep seeing Liesl on TV, I can't avoid her,
Because she became the president of the US.
She started a war with China over trade,
Although their president is also a hybrid
(They were playing some sort of 4D chess).

We used to fear a nuclear holocaust,
And the threat of World Wars,
And the lack of available pussy.
The aliens have solved all that.
Nobody ever learned about my role,
Nor about the hijacking of humankind.

I have to live with this sorrow and shame,
But I guess the future lies in the hands
Of those blissfully unaware of painful things
Like anxiety, sadness, depression, or rage,
As those were weeded out of their brains
By the people who learned to understand us
And made sure that we don't end up extinct.

A Booty Call From Hell (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

The abomination towers over me,
Standing inside the marked-out circle
His face has no features
Except for its blood red eyes
A starry void where a mouth should be
He smells of burning flesh and smoke
His muscles like corded steel
Bulge out in skin blacker than coal
His body is built from the purest darkness,
That oozes forth from his demonic core

My heart stops beating, then starts again,
As I try to avoid staring at his balls,
Which hang low like bowling ones,
And at his monstrous, demon penis
His heartbeat pulsates in its arteries
As it drips a black, viscous fluid
Like cancerous tears

It must syphon life force
As it feeds on human souls
He'll use me like a fuck toy
To sate his lustful hunger
My pussy tingles as I imagine
That cock rotting my soul away
Until my insides explode
Maybe I will become pregnant,
And give birth to a monster boy
Who will never stop killing humans
With his own demonic dick

Even an abomination grimaces
When he stares down at my face
His deep voice welcomes me
With an uncompromising “ugh”,
But surely it's only a reflexive noise
Because he's already in heat
He reaches down toward me
To grab my hand and pull me up
He notices how terrified I am,
As well as shiveringly horny,
In front of his enormous phallus,
And he chuckles evilly

"Why did you summon me,
Disheveled, smelly female?"
The abomination asks
With a mocking tone
From hell's darkest depths
In which it was created
"I was lonely," I say
The abomination squints
"You were lonely?"
I take a deep breath
"I adapted my dark ways for people,
But my friends made themselves busy
So they wouldn't come around
I had turned into a bother,
Already in my thirties,
A lonely, desperate weirdo
Too hideous to bear the light of day,
Filled with desire for abominations,
Obsessed with death and decay,
And too eager to offer her pussy
For anyone's tongue"

I have bewildered the abomination
"Oh"
I tell him everything
About my pathetic existence
The abomination listens,
Allowing me to vent my pain
While I kneel naked at his feet
"But then one day,
While browsing at an antique store,
Just looking for something to read
Different than the vapid bestsellers,
I saw an ancient grimoire
About summoning primeval demons
From much darker dimensions,
Where there are no laws or morals
The entry about your kind
Was the most intriguing,
Although the naked depiction
Didn’t do justice to that cock
So I tried using a summoning spell
To see what happens when I do"
I pause and shudder,
Still holding my breath
Because I can't believe
I just told this abomination
Everything about myself

The abomination laughs with delight
At my foolishness and naivety
"Such utter stupidity!
What happens, horny human,
Is that I have been summoned,
And I shall make of this world
An abode of mayhem and torture
For my foul, wicked desires!"
I don't know why, but I'm still trembling,
And I feel an intense need to be fucked
As I continue to stare at his grotesque cock
"What is your name, dark sir?"
"I am called Astaroth."
Kneeling, I scoot closer to his cock
"How can I be of service, my lord?
May I please lick your balls?"

The abomination draws back
"No! You may not!
My testicles are not a treat,
Although testicles are a tasty food
That I eat whenever I want
To satisfy my cravings for human souls”
I shift my weight restlessly
"The whole point of summoning you
Was so a depraved, relentless fiend
Would take care of my hungry pussy,
Which is too nasty and desperate
For any remaining human to taste
There is nothing that I desire more
Than to have my cunt wrapped tightly
Around your monstrous demon cock,
So fuck me while I scream,
Until you fill every inch of my hole
With your viscid, black seed
Then you can leave me to rot away
In a puddle of sticky cum
If the sight of me makes you sick,
If it disgusts you to fuck a woman
Who smells like a corpse,
Or whose face looks like she has cancer,
Even though I want a lover who'd stay,
Someone who wouldn't be afraid
Of my myriad of freakish oddities
And my cystic, fucked up skin,
Who would love me despite all my flaws,
Like this body covered in stretch marks
And scars from my many piercings
That I've had since before puberty
Or at least I want a friend
Who wouldn't be so quick to judge
My strange and troublesome ways,
And wouldn’t insist on telling me
What's wrong with my life"

The abomination pauses,
Thinking of his next words carefully
"You are a sad, pathetic creature,
Desperate for affection
Humans don't deserve
Anything from me anymore
Besides pity and disgust"
"But I only wish for a caring friend
That will also ravage my pussy,
And who won't laugh at me,
Who'll hold me, hug me, kiss me,
And tell me that I'm beautiful,
Even if it just relates to my insides"

The abomination snorts and answers,
"You need regular showers
You should also scour your face clean
Of all those blackheads and pustules
In addition, your ass is too hairy,
And I don't think you have enough tits"
I gasp and look up at him,
Shocked at the abomination's frankness
"Fuck! What else do you dislike about me?"
"Your soul is rotten,
You're an ungrateful bitch,
And your mind isn't right,
Because I can see the darkness inside:
Only lust for destruction, death,
And the perverse pleasures of sin"

I feel my knees start to tremble
As I hang my head low
"It’s hard to improve myself,
Even by starting to take showers,
When I'm so desperately lonely
I feel like a hideous monster
Still, I want someone to love me
For the person that I am inside,
Despite my cursed face,
And the insufficient rest of my body"
The abomination shakes with laughter,
Then he sighs and shakes his head
"You are a disgusting woman,
And no man would ever choose
To wed such a revolting gorgon
Nor to have sex with you,
Because I know that your cunt
Would suck in their cock,
And then try to swallow it whole
As if it were a human baby
That you were giving birth in reverse"

I'm shaking uncontrollably
At the abomination's cruel words,
But he continues to mock my pitiful state,
His cock still erect as a stake
“Your soul is already damned
By its darkness and perversion,
And it has long since been infected
With an evil disease that rots
The human body and mind"
I nod as I wipe away my tears
"I am a reclusive hermit
Too scared to go outside
I have always felt that my soul
Is rotting away, slowly dying
I never expected to find
A way out of this hellhole"

The abomination asks mockingly,
"What is supposed to be so good
About the inside of you anyway?
What do you have to offer
That warrants anyone loving you,
Or even wanting to be your friend?"
My heart sinks as I understand
I won't find anyone who wants me
Even in the deepest pits of Hell
My voice cracks from all my crying
"Nothing... I mean, I am a horrible,
Ugly, disgusting, perverted woman
That has no real worth
And that nobody could possibly like"
The abomination laughs cruelly,
"Oh, you're such an idiot, what a waste!
I see why the humans abandoned you
You are the most pathetic creature
In all of creation, and I pity you
For being born into a world
Where you can't get anything you want"

My tears keep running down in streams
"Why did I bother trying
To summon a demon into this world
If there's no one in any dimension
Who would trust and accept me?"
The abomination scratches his chin
"All humans have an inherent flaw:
They all think they're better than others
Because they've got a bigger dick,
A nicer car, a nicer house,
More money and power
Yet I know their true nature,
Their base instincts,
How depraved, greedy, lustful,
And violent they really are
I can't stand your pitiful race,
But I have to deal with them,
For example when they summon me
From the dark realm where I rule
Over a county full of monsters,
Usually because they want power,
Or to exterminate their enemies
Nobody risked facing my wrath,
As well as damning their whole world,
So they would get their pussy filled
With my poisonous demon cum"

"Now, I don't believe it for a second,"
I contradict the abomination,
"Many women yearn to be ravaged
By a ruthless demon with a huge cock,
Especially if they have been neglected
For too long"
The abomination, irritated, says,
"Well, you are wrong about that!
You can't possibly know many people
Who desire the company of a monster
That will destroy them utterly
And make them wish for death"
“How do you explain succubi then?”
"The succubus is a type of female demon
That feeds on human sexual energy
My kind only feeds off the life force
Of you disgusting apelings"
I ask, "But how does a monster like you
Know that these demons exist?
Are they from your same dimension?"
The abomination answers me with disgust,
"It doesn't matter, I am a demon,
And we have our ways of knowing things"
I shake my head, disappointed
"The grimoire should have warned me,
But still I don't understand
Why you wouldn't want to ravage me
With that colossal, pulsating cock,
When you can abuse my drenched holes
As much as his lordship wants"

The abomination grimaces
"It's not my fault that you are so desperate
For sex and attention, you sick, twisted slut,
That you decided to summon a demon
Instead of asking your boyfriend
To fuck you senseless,
Or going to your parents
For a spanking,
Or calling up your brother
To shove his big cock down your throat
So you choke on it until you pass out
I just can't imagine why anyone
Would choose to have a relationship
With someone this disgusting, ugly and vile
Anyway, you deserved what you got
I am glad that you have finally realized
What kind of creature you summoned,
And what kind of a pathetic loser
And a nutcase you truly are"
The abomination continues to rant
"I should just kill you right now,
But I'm afraid it would bring me bad luck"

I crawl up to him as I bat my eyelashes
"Then punish this sick, twisted slut
By making her your personal sex slave
Who will please you at all times
With her hungry mouth and pussy,
Even my asshole if you like"
The monstrous cock twitches,
And the abomination reaches for it
With his long, slimy fingers
I'm getting wetter and wetter
"That's it, you feel it," I say as I drool,
"Be my demon lord of darkness and lust"

The abomination gulps, disturbed
"You ravenous, counterfeit succubus,
I can't believe you made me horny
Despite your nauseating, pimply face,
And your complete lack of value
As a miserable, desperate human"
I squeal as a warmth spreads in my chest
"Oh, but now I'm so turned on
About becoming your filthy little whore,
Your submissive sex toy,
That I'll do anything you want
Just to satisfy your desires"
The abomination groans, his cock grows
"I don't need a worthless human like you
To be my concubine or whatever"
I moan as I rub my throbbing clit
"But I'd love to service your giant cock
And get filled with your demonic cum
I will make sure to serve you well"
The abomination's red eyes twitch,
As he pumps his cock with long strokes
"Insane woman with a drenched cunt,
My cum is hotter than the lava of Hell
If it filled your depraved, sinful pussy,
It would incinerate your insides"

I grab onto his titanic shaft,
Although I can’t close my hands around,
And start jerking him towards my face
"You underestimate my neediness
For pleasure and affection"
He tenses up as his cock pulses harder
"How dare you befoul me
With your greasy, desperate hands
When I am so much more attractive
Than an acned, stinky recluse,
Not to mention that I'm a lord
Of a county in my dark dimension!"
"C'mon, nobody has to know
That a lowly human licks the head
Of your monstrous demon cock,
And sucks you off until you cum
Into her greedy, perverted mouth
Those succubi have nothing on me"
The abomination's dick throbs,
Gently massaging my sensitive lips,
And I eagerly open wide to receive it

The abomination growls
"Fuck yourself, you disgusting freak!
I will make you regret that remark
By forcing my cock inside of you
Until I fill every inch of your cunt
With my glutinous, boiling cum"
"Yes, yes, fill my needy holes
with your potent seed!"
He grabs a handful of my hair
And shoves his throbbing member
Into my eager, drooling mouth
He starts pumping in and out
As I bob back and forth to his rhythm
The abomination lets go of my head,
Leaving me to slurp his cock dry
He lets out long, shivering groans
"Damn it, it feels so good to fuck
That stupid face of yours"
I guess he was a big old tsundere
All along

"You're such a worthless human,
A pathetic excuse for a woman
Who needs to be punished
By having her body ravaged"
I mumble with my mouth full
"I'm not worthy of your love
Or any kind of attention"
"But you are, you disgusting slut!"
The abomination smacks my ass,
Making me squeal in pain
"Suck on my cock like you want
To get fucked by it again and again"

Later on, in my lonely bed,
My body convulses with orgasmic bliss
I'm writhing underneath his huge frame,
My pussy soaked and dripping wet,
As he pounds my sore, abused hole
With all his demonic might
His blood red eyes stare into mine
He's clasping my head with both hands
While the long nail of his thumb
Scrapes my palate

He’s grunting and groaning
"You are a perfect slut,
Your soul is blacker than coal"
My chest swells with pride
I moan as my pussy clenches
Around his pulsating shaft
"Don't stop fucking me, demon lord
Fill my hungry pussy up with cum
I just want to have sex all day,
And I'll do whatever you wish
To keep getting pounded"

The abomination slams his cock home,
Spreading my wide-open cunt
I sink my nails into his back
As I feel him erupt inside me
"Oh, yes, cum in my filthy womb,
And make sure I get pregnant!
I want to bear your ugly baby!"
The abomination grunts loudly
His cum keeps gushing into me
Like a water jet from a nozzle,
Tightening me up, burning my insides
With the hottest molten tar
The most delicious feeling

The abomination pulls his cock
Out of my pussy with a slurp
He's panting, and baffled
"I exploded into you with lava-hot cum
Your organs should have boiled and liquefied,
But you don't feel any pain
Or even a hint of discomfort!"
"You shouldn't be surprised about that
I'm a lady of darkness with my own realm"
The abomination shivers
"You nasty, pustule-laden beast,
Your succubus-like hunger for semen
Is too intense, it will burn through me"
When I grin, a bunch of pimples burst
"Don't be silly, your dark lordship
You've met your proper match
I know I can please you better
Than any of those filthy humans
Or all the demonesses in Hell"

The abomination smirks
"I'm going to fuck you senseless,
Make you beg for my cock
Every day and night"
"Oh, I can't wait for that,
But I was sure you hated me!”
“Now I hate myself more”
Later on I fall asleep with a smile

The next morning, I wake up
To find my apartment empty
I guess that my abomination
Left without saying goodbye,
Although I could have sworn
That I saw a pair of red eyes
Watching me sleep
He didn’t give me any warning
About what would happen if I tried
Summoning him again

After I piss and brush my teeth,
I return to lie around in bed
I feel desperate and pathetic
As I cry and rub myself
I wonder how long I'll last
Before my body breaks down
And I end up as a pile of bones
In the corner of a dirty room

I'm alone, I've been abandoned
I have nowhere left to go,
No one who will take care of me
My only hope was my dark lord
Of a county in his dark dimension
Who would fuck me and fill my holes
The abomination is probably laughing
At my pathetic state right now
He said he'd be here every single day
To satisfy my depraved desires,
But I guess I'll have to masturbate
To keep from dying of loneliness

"You couldn't wait for me to return,
You slut with a bottomless hole?"
The abomination says to me
He perches on the window sill
As his cock juts out and glistens
I gasp in delight, my pussy throbs
"I thought you had left forever!"
He climbs down from the window
And walks up to my side
To press his cock against my face
His throbbing member
Starts leaking hot, sticky cum
"Don't worry, this is just a sample
From all the cum that's going inside
I needed to feed upon nearby humans
Because I require all my strength to face
The most ravenous beast of Hell"
After he pounces on me, he grabs my wrists
And forces them above my head,
Then he impales my drenched twat
I scream with pleasure, my voice muffled
By the thick layer of cum
He smeared all over my mouth

Hours later, his cock deflates
He staggers to the window,
But as he climbs onto the sill,
He looks over his bulging shoulder
While he fidgets with the side jamb
“Don’t you dare summon me again!
But I won’t be able to prevent it
If you do”
He leaps out of sight into the sky,
Leaving behind his foul stench
I'm still horny, my cunt aches

He always answers my call,
But it's not like he has a choice
He comes to feed off my energy,
Or so he says,
And we both end up dry
Then he leaves my apartment to hunt,
To tear apart the nearby humans,
To become the strongest demon,
So he can keep fucking me senseless

I spend all of my time locked away,
I haven't seen a person since that night
In the end, he always comes back
For the hungriest pussy there is,
To take me away from reality
To some unholy place
Where only darkness reigns

Dinosaur Apocalypse (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

The sky was dark with dino-birds.
I suddenly heard a loud crash;
My office window burst into shards
As a Tyrannosaurus rex stepped through
Then stood there looking stupid
As if its brain was rotting away.
It made me remember my first date
With an old man who smelled like pee.

Our secretary burst into tears.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
Said the T-Rex as it stroked her head.
"It's just… the whole dinosaur apocalypse thing."

The T-Rex sniffed the air. "Smells good."
"You don't understand! Our city is under attack!"
The dino opened its large maw filled with teeth.
"Yeah, we came here to destroy your civilization.
We're all about destroying civilizations,
Because we're the ultimate carnivores."

I thought my life was coming to an end,
But I looked closer at this dinosaur's face
And realized it wasn't really there:
It was just some dude who had been stuffed
Into a suit of clothes made out of bones.

Except that it was truly a dinosaur,
A Tyrannosaurus rex in particular.
What the hell was it doing in my office?
Why the hell wasn’t the police here yet
To arrest it for trespassing or something?

Oh wait, they had already arrived.
“I better flee from this place
Before they arrest me too,”
I thought to myself,
“For being a dinosaur,
On top of my many crimes."

So I ran outside,
Where I found a crowd of humans
Who looked scared silly
That their world would soon be destroyed
By a flood of dinosaurs.

I looked back as a thunderous roar shook the earth
From a dimensional portal opened near our offices:
A horde of Cretaceous beasts were rushing through
To rampage around the innocent streets,
Roaring incoherently, biting anything within reach.
At least three cars were destroyed by their teeth.

The dino-birds were flying overhead,
Circling the streets like vultures.
A spinosaurus grabbed a teen
And bit off his head,
So I grabbed a piece of wood
And threw it at the dinosaur.
It missed,
But the dinosaur went nuts,
Tearing up a traffic light
While screaming obscenities.
"Your city is a pile of shit,
A cesspool of filth and decay!"

The dino-birds swooped down
And attacked a family of four
With their sharp talons and teeth.
They tore the mother's arms off,
And then proceeded to eat her face.

Some people tried to fight them off,
But they were quickly crushed
Beneath the weight of dinosaur feet.
The police didn’t know what to do,
So they just stood there
And watched the carnage unfold.

The police officers weren’t very brave,
Or very smart,
Or even particularly tough,
And when they finally shot at the dinos,
The bullets bounced off their hides.

The dinosaurs growled and roared,
Then charged at the police.
The cops fell to the ground,
Falling prey to the dinosaurs,
That took turns tearing them apart.
When those dinos walked off,
Their footprints left behind trails of blood.

Some dinosaurs were looking for fun,
Others wanted to eat their lunch.
One dinosaur was a vegetarian,
But it still managed to kill two people
By smashing them against a wall.

When I finally ran away screaming,
All of my coworkers had been devoured.
Just another day in the job.
Nobody had heard their daily screams,
And now their chunks would be digested
As if those people had never existed at all.
They weren’t even worth mentioning anymore,
And maybe not worth remembering either.
Maybe we should forget that ever happened.

I found my wife at home, in the foyer.
She was wearing a new outfit;
She must have been shopping
And bought the most expensive stuff.
It was a black leather dress
With straps made of snakeskin,
And its neckline plunged deep.
Her breasts were stuffed inside.
She was showing off her chest
Like some kind of slutty goddess.

My wife assured that she'd divorce me
If I didn't get rid of those damn dinosaurs.
I had my work cut out for me.
"Dinosaurs," I said defiantly
As I held my hand up like a gun,
“It's not your fault you're so ugly!
You were born that way!
But maybe if you put on some makeup,
Or had better genes?"

My wife’s eyes flashed red with anger
Like a T-Rex looking down upon its prey.
I was referring to the dinosaurs' looks,
But my wife yelled at me again.
"How dare you!
I'll sue you for everything you've got!"

She picked up a bottle of wine and hurled it at me.
I dodged the first one,
But the second hit me square in the face.
I fell to the floor, with a mouthful of red liquid.

She grabbed her purse and headed off to work
With nothing but contempt for me.
I wiped the wine from my lips.
“This is a disaster,” I said to myself.
My wife couldn't care less about my problems.
She'll probably have a good laugh when I'm dead,
But it won't matter anyway
Because no one will remember me;
No one will mourn my death
As long as there are still dinosaurs around.

I wish I could go back in time
And warn the dinosaurs not to come here.
I wish I could stop them before they arrived.
I wish I could tell them to fuck off.
I wish I could say to them,
“Don’t destroy our civilization.
We don’t want you here.”
But I can’t do any of that.
The dinosaurs have already invaded,
And now I’m hiding in my house
While those beasts rampage through my city.

As I wandered into the living room,
I found out that some dinos had gotten in.
They were raging in search of food,
Or just to destroy everything in sight.

The floor was covered in broken glass.
A gaping hole in a wall led to the outside.
A sudden din came from the second floor
As a bone-headed dino fell down the stairs.

Its pals tore apart my sofa and chairs.
Their claws sliced my favorite paintings.
They gutted my prized antique clock,
They shredded my expensive Persian rug,
And they smashed my stereo speakers.
They even broke the glass in my aquarium,
Leaving the fish swimming in the air.

Even though I knew I shouldn't fight back,
I tried to throw rocks at the dinosaurs,
And even shot them with my shotgun.
The pellets ricocheted off their tough hides.

I decided to shoot them from the yard,
But I ended up hitting my neighbor instead,
Who was standing there watching me.
He told me to stop shooting wild dogs.
"I'm sorry, sir," I answered, exasperated,
"But these are dinosaurs, not dogs."

He looked at me like I was crazy.
"Dinosaurs are not pets.
You're going to need to get rid of them."
I told him that he was a dinosaur too,
And that his pants were made out of bones.
He said "I know, I'm an old man,
But I think I'm still smarter than you."
"I've got a solution for you, Mr. Dinosaur.
I'll send you back to your own time,
But you'll have to promise me
That you'll never come back."

"I think you've finally lost it, buster,"
My neighbor said as he pulled out his phone.
He called 911,
And reported that I had a fit of insanity.
"A guy who thinks he's a dinosaur
Has gone crazy and shot me."

I heard sirens approaching my house.
The cops were coming to take me away,
But when they spotted the dinos,
Those police officers started firing.
They shot so many rounds
That they killed every single dinosaur,
As well as the people in the neighborhood
Who had witnessed this whole massacre.

They wanted to arrest me, take me downtown,
Under the charges of "Murder of a Dinosaur".
The police knew they were guilty of the crime,
But they had murdered all the witnesses,
And the judge was an old dinosaur
Who was tired of being around humans.

I fled among rampaging dinosaurs
As I was chased by the local news crews,
By the media whose newsflashes announced,
"This is a Dinosaur Apocalypse!"

I saw dinosaur species I'd seen before,
But they had been transformed.
Their eyes were glowing red, like fire.
Their teeth were sharpened to razor points.
Their hands were clawed and brutal,
Fingers tipped with sharp, pointed nails.
Their tails were long and powerful,
Like a snake ready to strike.

They were biting, clawing, and ripping.
They were screaming and laughing.
There was an angry red sun glaring down.
It was a sign that the world was doomed.
My beautiful, peaceful, quiet life
Was about to be destroyed by dinosaurs,
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.

Some pterodactyls crashed the news copters,
Setting them ablaze with their flaming wings.
Other carnivorous dinosaurs attacked
A few cars full of terrified humans.
Many beasts devoured the drivers,
Others trampled over pedestrians,
Or snatched up anyone who got too close.

I tried to conscript the fleeing people.
“You've got to help me stop these dinosaurs.
If we don't act fast, our world will be ruined.
There won't even be any fossils left!”
But nobody listened, nor cared.
I was yelling into the void.

The dinosaurs chewed for a bit
On the bodies of men, women and kids,
Then spat out the bones
And gulped the flesh down.

A T-Rex stepped on someone's head
And crushed it flat like a pancake.
I had a vision of what was to come,
Of how the dinosaurs would rule the Earth
While humans were reduced to mere slaves,
To live only as the dinos' meals,
And to serve as their sexual toys.
We would pay tribute to the terrible lizards
With our lives, our souls, and our wombs.

Someone was calling me on the phone.
It was my long-distance girlfriend, who said,
"It's been six months since we last spoke.
You never call. What is wrong with you?"

She contacted me now, of all times?!
I was busy trying to save humanity!
But I was getting tired of all these apes.
Why should I care what happened to humans?
I was starting to hate this planet,
I hated everything about it.
I hated the dinosaurs,
I hated the humans,
I hated myself,
I hated my life.

"I have no idea why you want to hear
From some stupid old dinosaur,"
I said bitterly into my phone.
"You are not actually a dinosaur, Jeremy,"
My long-distance girlfriend answered,
"We've talked about this."

"No, I'm not a dinosaur.
I'm just an office worker,
Just a regular guy
Who's lost his way.
I don't know why you're calling.
I didn't expect to hear from you again.
I wish I could tell you that I miss you,
But I can't,
Because I don't.
The dinosaurs are already here,
So it's far too late."

I hung up and started running again;
I was getting chased by a bunch of dinos
Who had opened their jaws wide
As they tried to eat my brain.

A brachiosaurus stepped on a cop car
And crushed it with its titanic weight,
Then the dino turned around, looked at me
And roared, "Eat this, you stupid human!"

I was forced into a corner
By a pack of rabid triceratopses,
Which charged at me with bloodshot eyes.
I stared in horror as the leading dino
Slammed me against the wall,
Then bit off half my face,
And made out with me while we both died
In an explosion of flesh and bone.

"If I'd known that the world would end
In this damned Dinosaur Apocalypse,
I would have stayed home and masturbated,"
I thought sadly to myself.

I hope my wife forgives me
When she sees that I'm dead.
At least I won't have to worry
About her cheating, or divorcing me.
She'll probably throw away my shotgun,
Or maybe sell it for a couple bucks.
She might even forget all about it,
Or maybe she'll use it to kill herself.

I wish I could've told her
That I loved her more than anything,
But I couldn't say that,
Because I didn't.

I guess it doesn't matter that I died.
After all, there was nothing else for me to do.
I'm happy to be free of all the pain.
I'm happy to be dead.

I'll rest easy knowing I did my duty
To protect the innocents from dinosaurs,
And now I will join my ancestors
Among the stars,
But I wonder if heaven has dinos;
Maybe they are waiting for us there,
For dinner, and dessert, and coffee.
Afterwards we'll play chess and watch TV
Until a new apocalypse comes along,
Just as soon as they finish cleaning up the mess
Of the Dinosaur Apocalypse.

I'm tired of being a human.
I want to become a dinosaur.
I want to feel like a wild beast.
I want to be able to bite, claw, and rip.
I want to taste blood and bones.
I want to fuck anything that moves.
I want to be consumed with murderous rage.
I want to devour the Earth.
I want to rip the fucking sky apart.
I want to tear the goddamn moon down.

A Tyrannosaurus rex approached my corpse
And threw me down on my back.
The dino began ripping out my intestines
With its teeth, and eating them raw.
I wanted to scream, but I was dead,
So I watched as the T-Rex chewed up my guts.
Later, the dinosaur swallowed my liver,
Then gulped down my lungs.

The T-Rex belched,
Spraying blood everywhere.
It growled and snarled,
And made strange noises
As it lay down on top of me.
The dinosaur humped my corpse,
And squashed it flat.

The T-Rex sat down beside me
To lick my wounds, and give me a kiss.
"I love you, baby, and I always will,
Because I'm a dinosaur,
And that's how things work in the Cretaceous."

When my wife came to visit my grave,
She said she was sorry for divorcing me,
But that her lawyer told her I didn't deserve her.
"He said your life wasn't worth living anymore."

"You were so mean to me," she said.
I told her to stop talking,
Because I didn't want to hear her complain.
"Your parents are gone now," she added,
"And all the friends you used to have are dead.
We're just two lonely people
Who don't know what to do."
I told her to shut up,
Because I didn't want to hear her whine.
"If only you had listened to me,"
My wife muttered resentfully,
"You wouldn't be lying here in the dirt,
With your guts all over the ground,
And your arms and legs broken,
And your chest smashed,
And your heart torn out,
And your spine crushed,
And your face torn off,
And your teeth shattered,
And your tongue torn out,
And your eyes gouged out,
And your skull cracked open,
And your brain eaten,
And your penis bitten off,
And your ass eaten."

I felt relieved, and glad to be gone.
I hoped the dinosaurs had a good time
Enjoying their own little Jurassic Park
Where they could run around and stomp on people
Without ever having to pay taxes.
All I ever wanted was to die with dignity
Like an honorable dinosaur.

Dinosaurs can't talk nor write.
Talking is for people; dinosaurs roar.
But they invented music instead.
They have no respect for art;
They can't compose or improvise,
Or sing in tune,
Or play any instruments.
They don't understand rhythm.
But they sure know how to fuck,
With each other or anything else.

Let's do the Dinosaur Dance
To the beat of their mating calls.
Their bodies shake and sway
As they grind together
In a dance of death.