A break from regular programming....

I've written a fiction ebook. It's called Jungle. It's available for download on kindle.

And it's free for two days only! Today and tomorrow. The clock is ticking, it'll never be free after this. Ever.

This is the link

https://www.amazon.in/gp/aw/d/B01E31KZSI?vs=1&vs=1

Check it out.

You can read more about it on the main blog www.fubar69.blogspot.com

A Thousand Poems

A book full of moth eaten pages

Scribbled words and pictures

Doodled infinities
Trapped in dead trees

Took one thousand poems
To reach here
Middle of nowhere

Bathed in the fear
Of tomorrow
Words broken
Rhymes misshapen
An inkblot

A tattoo
Scrunched into my skin
Drawn in darkness
By a blind tattoo artist
With a boxing glove on his fist
I've got my nose in the book
Breathing in the poems
This bad cocaine

It's coursing
Through my veins
And I like it
Oooooh
I like it so much
It gets me high
So should I give
A fuck?
Or keep pushing
My luck
Waiting for it
To push back
All the fucking way

---
Two things, find the Discworld reference and the reason why this poem is written like this.
More, soon. 

When Night Comes

so do the ghosts

whispering in soft voices

sitting there 

looking at me 

in reflections

with claws on my shoulders

that only I can feel 

and often I have felt

a stray draft of air

when it shouldn't be there

but it is

mocking me

something I can't explain

paranormal pranking

that fucks with my brain

when i'm lying in your bed

I hear the scratching in the walls

when I wake up from the dead

there are dirty footprints in the hall

----

Something about the night and feeling of being all fucking alone. 

#2

back in the bed

i lie
down and stare
at the ceiling
in my head
operating on
my feelings
light bleeds
from the windows
tracing figures on the walls
how the fuck
how the fuck
did i end up
back in this bed again
i'm sinking
in the duvet
it welcomes me
like a predator
every night
so i lie
so i die
to be born
again and again
every morning
i love it
i fucking love it (so much)
i'm choking
laughing, joking
but i can't just fucking quit

---
sleep? fuck sleep!

#1

Cuticles

These words are cuticles
That I rip from the side
Of my fingernails
It hurts in micro
Such a tiny pin prick of pain
That i can't even endure it
And I can't even complain
This is how we get used to
The larger pains of life
Then one day you wake up
And chop your finger with a knife
Cuz fuck ripping out cuticles
I'd rather go the whole hog
Fuck finding my way out
I'd stay lost in this fog

dirt

i see the beauty in this world

but my mouth is filled with dirt

i chew, i swallow, it fills up again

i scream from the window whenever it rains

it sure is a nice, sunny day outside

but my head is full of demons

they crawl over each other to be heard

a puree of worms swirling in my brain

look at these beautiful rays of the sun

i'm staring at walls instead of having fun

if i look away, the wall clowns will eat me

truth is truth, even if it sounds funny

it's a glorious fucking day, my friend

but i've got to stay inside and chew dirt

my memories of the outside world are fading

i like the taste of dirt, and it no longer hurts

From the Vaults -- I Slept Through It All

http://fubarpoems.blogspot.in/2010/11/i-slept-through-it-all.html

This is a pretty old poem. What was I thinking when I wrote this. I guess I was just frustrated with how the love life was going. I am not a man known for making rational, well calculated decisions, and even if i did, what's the fun of life without any frustration? right. Anyway, go read.

This blog has ample archives and I think every now and then I'll post links to old poems. Just to keep things fresh here. Old for freshness, figure that out huh.