Poetry by Danny Dalferro

It seemed like a bad dream
Some nightmare I couldn’t wake up from
I didn’t want it to be real
A neuron in my brain
Cold, empty, and dark
Played on a loop, backwards and forwards
Ad infinitum
Started off softly, like a whisper in the trees
And grew,
Louder, into a roar of cacophony
Like a gunshot going off
A deaf man suddenly gaining all the noise
Enough to make you tie rope around your neck
And swing from a branch,
Suddenly feeling all the serenity
You have no idea
You really don’t
You’re so comfortable, so ignorant
So blissful
Take a drink
You’ll feel better, I promise
Take another one
You’ll love it
Keep drinking until you can’t stop
Then stop
And use your fucked up enunciation
To discuss your problems
Look at yourself in the mirror every day
And hate what you see
Let time pass
And do things you’ve never done before
You’ll feel better, I promise
Pray
You’ll love it
Keep helping others
Until you forget to help yourself
And use your screwed articulation
To speak of your experience, strength, and hope
Look at yourself in the mirror every morning
And start to like what you see
Fall, stumble, fail, make mistakes
But always remember to get back up
Always remember to dust yourself off
And always remember, “This too shall pass… like a kidney stone”

***


It’s something long forgotten
You need to be careful
A gutter boy, dirty and worn;
A streetwalker, hands bound with electrical tape;
A junkie, arms streaked with animal tracks;
The unholy trinity
Crosses the faded line,
Each in need of a personal messiah;
Someone to pray to,
Someone to give the day to
The only light in the alley is a burning monk,
Giving hope through sacrifice;
The only recourse
On the outer walls surrounding the concrete brick hallway
Slashes of blood, torn tapestries, marred paintings confound all
It’s something long forgotten
You need to have courage
The ebb and flow of life is rampant here
The stench of death is abundant
The evil of betrayal
Of seduction
Of greed
Of gluttony
Of avarice
Yes, all these are here, too
Waiting to be picked up
Like a parasite upon a leaf next to a hiking trail
It’s something long forgotten
You need to be strong
What is life without pain?
What is life without humiliation?
What is life without trial?
With ignorance?
With innocence?
Yes, the transcendence of pain is happiness
For what can one learn from shitting rainbows and pissing unicorns?
Pain must be present to have any real serenity

***



the boy sits in the cell
wondering how he descended into hell
a flicker of the lighter and a puff of smoke
is all he could muster as he spoke
the darkness creeps in
the air becomes a howling wind
the boy prays for slumber
knowing full well it won't come
delves deep into his mind
terrified of what he finds
the door screen ripped, the deadbolt gone
7 shells lay in perfect harmony
the walls painted red and pink in the sun
he'd only gone over to get his fix
the bodies numbered six
the boy sits in the cell
wondering how he descended into hell

***



Someone said, “You need a hobby.”
Someone said, “Idle hands do the devil’s work.”
Well, what to do?
Oh, what to do?
Can you repeat the question?
Oh, you didn’t ask one? Huh…
My mind is empty
My heart is heavy
My soul is burned up
No ideas, no lights go off
I’m stuck in this perpetual shadow zone
This ghost town, this kill zone
Nodding off on some god-serum
My arms black as the sun
My skin white as mountaintops
My spirit gone
Ready for the long slumber of eternity
Well, what to do?
Oh, what to do?
My mind has run off
Have you seen it?
There’s a reward for it, I swear
Awakened not by light nor warmth nor love
By Desperation and Despair
Struck down by the hand of “God”
It pains me so
Feeling worthwhile, finally
Thinking reversed, putting me first
Ideas flood
Overcome me
Stop my trembling hands from putting foot in mouth
Halt the crystal container of brown liquid
From ever reaching my liver
A slight, a voice soft as a whisper
Then grows, like a withered sapling into a mighty oak
Shakes the very foundation of me
“What about poetry, story-creating, lyrics, and the like?”
Shit.

***



The light dims and quakes
Skewed visions run free
Like screwed telemetry
Like a bad acid trip
Like a mental time rip
The pain strikes hard
My head is jarred
It withers and fades
Like fleeting love
In the mists of shade
The world above
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
Snow in white lines
Flow as dark rhymes
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?
I’m stuck forever in this dream, this acid trip
Searching for salvation, but it has me in its grip
Where is my mind?
Where is my mind?

​

Bio: Danny Dalferro is a writer from Rockville Centre, New York. For a living, he works as a custodian. He lives in Oceanside, New York with his cat, Mal.

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