Tomic Riter

Tag: creativewriting

  • It won’t stop anywhere.

    the acidic smell of love sends me in a vertigo
your teeth feasting on my tongue
I have let you in before
I am letting you in again
my arms are open, my chest is bare,
my skin is in flames, my wine is sour
my head is pounding for your touch
I could hold your face between my palms
and kiss you until I get reduced to skeleton
it won't stop there
it won't stop anywhere
I will send us both right in the operation theatre
it won't stop there either.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • An update.

    23496 words and still running. This piece of text might very well form the basis of my next book. Another year is near. The idea of a new year is thrilling but only until the moment when the clock strikes midnight. Once you’ve entered the year, it begins to feel all the same. Why. It won’t be wrong to say that I haven’t done enough to change the course of my life in my favour. It’s another thing that I feel no regret about it. I squeezed each moment as much I could. For as long as I am alive, I cannot fail. Or maybe I have failed in so many avenues all throughout my life that one more failure wouldn’t matter.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Out for too long.

    basking in 11:47 sun
Liszt crazy on his piano
my life is a poorly crafter art film
besides, no audience
Liszt has gone to vomit
soon, clouds gather and strike the birds down
my mind a sea of toilet water
in my garden, a peacock getting fucked 
by the neighbour's dog
a cat sleeping through the day's uneventfulness
I have been out in the sun for far too long.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Towards sunset.

    I've cracked open a beer
I've put on classical music
I have entered this evening
thoroughly unprepared
outside, noises of various kinds
they'll die down in an hour
the stray cat will run away
to a warmer shelter
I won't see her until next morning
what has really happened to me
why does everything that I write
takes a tragic turn
am I so incapable of writing
anything pleasant.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • For you.

    first light of morning
how uninspiring
wish I dug you up with my lips
then with my teeth
and finally licked you clean 
with my tongue

instead,
I turn to the other side,
pull blanket over my head,
disappear.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • Not tonight.

    had this moment few hours back
on the rooftop
with the moon hanging up, a clear sky,
coldness
as if I stepped into another world,
only it were here

stood there for a minute with my hands
on the railing
I looked ahead and around
the streetlights were functional again
and they made the roof lit up brightly,
only few squares of sweet spot left
that was completely in dark

I had this thought of lying down
on the floor with my face up

but all that god damned brightness

I waved the thought away
and walked downstairs,
locked myself in my bedroom
for the rest of the night.

    Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

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  • E-BOOK FREE SALE. OFFER VALID TILL DECEMBER 12.

    POETRY E-BOOK RED ROOM BAR FREE SALE TILL DECEMBER 12TH ON AMAZON KINDLE STORE.

    Glad to let you know that my poetry e-book Red Room Bar is available for purchase for free on Amazon Kindle store. Offer valid till December 12th.

    Click here to purchase you copy now!

    With best regards, Tomic.

  • All I have.

    the good part is over
all I have with me is my very own song
driving through the darkness,
doesn't matter how dark,
doesn't matter the width and breadth 
and depth of the ditches and pits,
only it must be crossed, and why
because there's no alternate way
oddly satisfying, this succumbing
to the choicelessness,
to the inevitable that is this moment,
this very moment in which
I am crossing ditch after ditch
and falling and getting up
and getting back and driving further
with blood on my knees and knuckles
I bathe in all things incurable
all day and noon and night
whether I am at home or not
whether I am alone or not
strangeness of the strangest kinds 
follow me everywhere.

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  • Enters the evening.

    enters the evening with a couple of old songs
wind fills the vacuum
as I wait for my place in the operation theatre
I have learnt it the hard way
I cannot control the passage of time
nor can I have more of it
sooner or later I'll be gone
I share with the wretched world
but only my own wretchedness
the very silence that would put me to sleep
now comes to me to chop me into pieces
I am not yet ready to take the big knife
through my gut
how far is the end if there's any
to all of this.

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  • Fog, Me, You.

    dense fog
no world beyond hundred metre radius
an hour into wakefulness,
I still cannot think straight
waiting for another fifteen minutes to pass
maybe that will lift the fog 
in my head formed from long uninterrupted sleep
it's strange how cold can sedate one
into such a state
twelve more minutes of waiting
my eyes still sealed by sleep dirt
Warhaus playing in the background

Love's a stranger until I see you again

what's left of the fog seeps into my bedroom
through the half open window
despite the freezing weather, 
I am wearing nothing
my feet turn colder
the back of my neck begins to ache
you are awake now 
as awake as I am, maybe more
and you tell me,

I dreamed today and it became too real
and I woke up

I find it beautiful,
sad but beautiful
I write it down
and keep listening to you.

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

    CLICK HERE TO VISIT MY AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE AND PURCHASE MY BOOKS