Ships That Dare (prose)

One of the proses found in True-Ultra. Ships That Dare Yet, my skin does not bleed light once cut, my memory is not a sea filled with vessels hauling treasure, and I can’t see past sky-rim. Those ships—I see them set sail and pass, wreck and sink, cast onto fiery cascades, and I see myself in them, drowning and burning. I know how it ends; I’ve seen it before; Comes with day, engraved by ancient lore: They leave, and I stay. I stay in this mental illusion of a small port-village, where the sound of seagulls preludes the daylight, but distant and faintly echoed. Where the windows radiate with the blue-hue of gentle waves, and onlookers are statically sighting the sea, waiting endlessly for a ship that will never arrive, a day that will never come. These days held by the belly, broken and shattered in every street and any corner, are the simplest notes sang by those seagulls. The

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True-Ultra (english poetry)

Today, I e-published my first title and a wave of terror washed over me. I do not feel quite ready for it. I’m an admirer of so many, and I don’t feel worthy of having people purchase my book just yet. It’s just not something I feel okay with, due to my inexperience and general inadequacy. Still, I feel like I’ve created something special in this humble manuscript. Something worth reading, but not necessarily commercialising. As such, I will un-publish the book and open it to reading in this post, in PDF format, free-for-all. I will, however, also provide a donate button bellow, may you decide I’m worthy of such honour and trust (you decide the amount). What I receive will be used for the purposes previously mentioned – maintaining the website and eventually, a groovy poetry-chilling podcast. Thank you, and sorry. True Ultra – The Book

Styx (revised)

As a lot of content is getting shaved from the book of Selected Poetry, most of my author notes are getting removed and replaced with prose. Hours of wasted work, but no matter, that’s how these things go. I will post some of those I feel worse about deleting, so they won’t dissipate into the void. Sorry for the huge resolution, comes straight from book format. JOHNNY

Gratitude.

The most common element throughout my time posting here, a little more than four months now, is most likely my lack of confidence into the craft I’m presenting for you to read. Although having such tender readers as you is a soothing march towards a path of more determined writing, I cannot help but to distill what is perhaps the only good spawn of this plaguing inadequacy: my unending gratitude, the joyous smiles whenever someone comments such warm and embracing notes to my compositions, those to which I give such little worth, those that you see something in, sometimes I’m tearful just thinking of it. Writing since such young age, I’ve only been compelled to share very recently, mostly out of fear and self-preservation, but this journey of sharing has been no less than magical, almost out of a book. I have long ways to go in my abilities and considerations, as well as my Art, which I plan to

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dogwood and yarn. (english poetry)

Author’s Notes: The structure of the composition was severely inspired by Jack Leonard’s song “All the Things you Are“, a beautiful song that was a hit during the 1930s in America. I finally found a practical and pleasing way to put whole compositions into a single image, took me long enough. I’m not very technologically savvy. This is another free-hander. I haven’t had much time to sit down and actually compose, so I mostly scribble into my notepad throughout the day and I get these results. At least, I hope they aren’t too bad. And thank you for reading, I don’t often thank people who read and do not comment, and it’s not on purpose, I’m just forgetful. Regardless, thank you so much for following the unglamorous journey of a dreamy kid writing poems. JOHNNY

static limbo. (english poetry)

Author’s Notes: No actual references of any kind were made in this poem. It was mostly free-handed in paper and I did little to no editing when I transcribed it into electronic format. The quality of it is a bit “meh”, but I find it very sincere, and I value sincere poetry above any other kind. I hope you can still connect with it. JOHNNY