Author name: Hayden Veil

In an earlier incarnation, Hayden Veil enjoyed a successful career in software engineering, writing late-night poetry in pursuit of sanity. On 2 February 2020, the world of Hayden Veil changed: Ghosts became real and with its soul laid bare there was no turning back from the perpetual path of poetry.

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

longing

I have a desire; of flesh in abundance,

not in excess; wobbly and bouncing,

tight; firm and properly fitting though,

with a kind face to match,

and a heart; most forgiving

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

Mama, you tried your best,

Mama, I do suggest,

Mama, between us two,

Nothing remains; for now

.

Mama, there is regret,

Mama, between the bets,

Mama, no trust I get,

Shame; shame; a shame

.

Mama, you tried your best,

Mama, the shrink suggests,

Mama, between us two,

There is a void; at most

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

Bueno Roseanna,

Found among the scrambled eggs,

Bueno Roseanna,

The firmest of t1ts I did appreciate,

Bueno Roseanna,

Your throat split in half,

Bueno Roseanna,

My dream just fell apart

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

brevity

There are bugs among shape shifters,

Critters; beware the life jackets,

Among the mongrel; one stands,

Their peace is ours; our brevity brotherly,

I never chose freedom; just words,

in short

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

Do not read this; lightly,

No light has ever be enough,

To lift those kissed by darkness,

The chains of depression; perpetual,

Regardless of science; improbable,

No light will ever be enough,

To kiss once more; the beauty of life,

A bird of prey; solemn,

A longing for more; fading

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

The pain you see is not mine / I have too many faces / there are so many places / from which the pain hides / you strike upon their weakness / such an endeavor; unworthy me / an ocorina of time; chirping / zealously guarded henchmen; masturbating / pain; stacked on shelf upon shelf / use-by date expired / tired death awaits / master, master; debate no further / the republic will not survive / transmuted

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I planned to celebrate St. Patrick’s day; me,

Without the saintly part that be,

Me and my days that tend you see,

Swimming down the river of St. Guinness’,

Another saint that never helped,

Another me that never flourished; really,

Padraig my friend; floating barely,

You might as well; give up,

Give in; let the urges overtake,

Uncork that bottle of Jaegermeister,

Pretend it be the black gold,

Flowing from the land; of old

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

These words conveyed, in my head, by a short person speaking German. I no longer dare; calling them dwarfs or midgets, the dictionary tagging such expression offensive. The army of politically correct expressions would strike me down. Strike me dead; without realising I lied, the voice in my head; was French

Random Unsorted Drafts / / By

I wear my boots and trench; Teflon coated,
from the tree of life itself; a present,
every second a new leaf fall; and sticks,
getting old is a reward of time; collected,
stop it I say; stop it already,
I need a lie-down; so badly,
before the autumn comes,
the last leaf will surely; fall

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