Writing

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Written Works From Blog-ejandro

Formerly "A Profound Misunderstanding of Everything."

Last April I was in something and forgot to tell the world: Poetry Pops — O, Miami

O, Miami advances literary culture in Miami, FL Source: Poetry Pops — O, Miami

Caterpillar Goo Mystery

  Life is simple. All you have to do is hold on. Life is easy, all you have to do. All you have to do is let go. By all the things you must do must be done, such is life’s must. Such is the must of life, the matter Repossessed as named bodies. The taming of wild...

Poem: Not the Sun

I can hear children crying for their mothers Their cries grow louder Until I identify Them as screeching cats   I see white sparks retrace a broken spiral. Exhale the gallon To my toes, my head to a table My neck is a treb’s axel. I...

The Best Nihilism Ever.

This is written in response to a specific question, from the perspective of a particular kind of person: a writer, a student, or just a creative thinker living an uncreative life. The answers are here, I suppose, but I task the reader to discern the contents of the...

In the Future There Is Only War

Disclaimer: this is a post-post-modern essay, and thus it has no direction, makes no real point, makes no attempts at convincing anyone of anything, and does not adhere to anything. I am a product of a certain time and place in human history, a post-rational world,...

Early Modern Deficiency

Alejandro Bellizzi    Question Number One This is not a midterm, this is a fascinating adventure! An adventure that I have very wisely put off till the last minute because I know that late caffeine driven nights produce passionate thoughts. I feel like a newborn, and...

Night of the Living Dead

We may begin anywhere as easily as my hands in a stasis of blue light, tracing the keys without a single intention. I had a thought and now it is gone. I had a desire, but now I’ve forgotten it. I sit and try to focus on the faintest outline. What did I feel? I know I...

The Conversation

That's a very interesting question.Life is a moving belt, an array of themthrough a series of orifices, and thussome might say that life belts outthrough our orifice--lost in time and an illusory sense of motion. Am I moving forwardOr am I just the tunnelFor a...

First Grade Journal Entries Part 1

      While at my mothers a couple weeks ago, I indulged in the powers of nostalgia after finding my old early childhood journalings, the one’s they made me write in school, wherein I must have explored incredible depths of pure sorrow and spiritual...

The Magical Life of Tombert the Bear

            Once upon a time, thereWas a forest,was a socio-economic-nothingness. And there was teddy bear: his name was Tombert, and Tombert believed in magic. Magic was real in his mind, and consciousness was...

New Poem: Traces of Happiness

I can’t stop smiling,No, I mean, I can’t stop, I really can’t they’ll kill me if I stopI wish I could explain thisI’m so sorry, I’m so sorryI have to keep smiling, because they’re watchingAnd I don’t have a lot of timeLeft, I’m not trying to sound self...

Virgin poet Considers Sex

I was once head-to-toe insideOf a wimmen.So it’s safe to sayI know them inside and out.Turns out its dark--and bloody in there.I figure that sex, With all these dudes rockingBack and forth like broken clocksInto the pelvises of their lovers--is an animalistic...

Delirious Bathroom Monologue

I check at the slender crack of light If an amount of shit has graced the wad of paper That I’d just scraped along my withered asshole The mudlike scum sizzling like peroxide in the Blistered crater of my sphincter Formed from over obsessive wiping And the dryness of...

The Man Without Tear Ducts

Metafiction, eh? Well, I will start this story by saying that this story is my homework, and the story is that I’m writing about metafiction right before class, even though my prodding for more homework probably caused you to assign this. Now there, right there, is a...

Poem: Misses Neruda

 I’ve forgotten NerudaAnd about beautiful thingsI’ve not seen much—of the beauty, theReal beauty. Sunshine andTrees and shit. Where is the sunshine hiding.A fucking bird landed on a fucking branch.And it went a motherfuckingChirp chirp chirpSomething about my...

The Dark Parallel

A fragmented assortment of poems, thoughts, and prose. The self in the moment craves death.The self is an imaginary construct toThe self in actuality.And so the imagination of the selfIs dying every moment.Change is not dreaded, change, isThe adherence to our constant...

Poems for the Summer Malaise

We can Rebuild himMessage from the futureI am the rebirth of humpty dumptyAfter they put him back togetherAnyhowEven after they could notAnd so imagine the staples, the tape, and sufferingI place my palms against either sideOf my skull and pressBecause the parts keep...

Alone with Spiders

Every night, before falling asleep, I perform a dramatic monologue to the fuzzy patterns of color that I can barely see in the darkness. And, excited, I force my eyes open for extended periods until the shadows and shapes transform into nightmarish figures. But it’s...

Purgatory Sunshine

PurgatoryI sat and waited in theWaiting areaI waited and imagined how it would feelTo get up and walkTo where I now sit, wonderingHow it would have been to have stayedAnd perhaps in a little whileThe door would have openedAnd a doctor would say helloAnd for half an...

Alejandro Go To Heaven 2

I want to sleep foreverAnd I think in horrorTomorrow will be a morningWhere I’ll appear at the bathroomMirror to brush my teethI’ll make all necessary movementsI’ll push my hand to that wayAnd this way, until I’m tiredUntil I want to sleep foreverAnd things go dark...