Author Archives: Hernan J Monzon

About Hernan J Monzon

Indie Author. Reach me at: hmonzon0629@gmail.com

The Great Upending

When it breathes
upon your window
and smiles

When it strolls in
through the unlocked
patio door
between the curtains
like a breeze
like breath

When it comes
walking barefoot
towards your bedroom

When it crawls
between the sheets
and settles in

When it takes
your hand
like the hand of a child

and it whispers
in your ear

What do you know
about anything
at all now?

The moment
it becomes
a living thing
breathing all over you

Your soul
suddenly
a piece of glass
falling
into a great black sea

Unexpected
it arrives
as a storm
at your window
a hound
at your door
a stranger
in your bed

The moment
that everything
changes

that you never saw
coming

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Daydreamer

Daydreamer
with my eyes up to the sky
slowly slipping away
from the earth
when the pull
becomes too much.

This anti-gravity
gravity
gently tugging me
out from the room
up through the window
and into the clouds.

Weightless,
untethered,
I fall upwards
enveloped in blue.

Carefree;
I have become
so far away
-a ghost from a childhood story
living above the rain.

No time.
No fear.
No regret.

I’m never coming back
down
to this place.

At times
old,
webbed,
dead.

A vacant lot.
An abandoned garage.

I Am

I float along
as a seed in the wind
a cloud in the night
a dream in the mind of a child
floats.

I am alone
fading into silence
a flash of light
in the darkness
a blast from a trumpet
a circus
a rocket
a riot.

I am
a drop of rain
on a weathered stone
an eye
through a keyhole
a wick in the candle
a gamble.

I am a face
in the window
a ghost
in the attic
a breeze
from the cellar
a bridge
and a river.

I am a saviour
a strangler
a stranger.

I am
the lifting of the curtain
the elucidation
the burden.

I am
the last bedroom light on
in the house
in this neighbourhood
in this world.

I am this world.

In Defiance of Everything

My cat just lies there
as the mice run free and wild
copulating all over the lawn
as the birds fly into the windows
and throughout all the rooms
with an air of casual ease
and the dogs knock down the fences
shit on the deck
and light cigars.

My cat just lies there
as the pool pump is broken
the finances are in ruins
the shed is on fire
and the vacuum salesman is back.

My cat just lies there
as the rich eat the poor
as machines eat the planet
as the forests burn
from Asia to LA
and democracies crumble
like wet sand through hungry fingers.

My cat just lies there
as I grapple with
the five year plan
the taxman
the diet
the front door
-the weight of
being human

Now
my cat and I
are both lying there
on the floor
on our backs
on a sunlit patch of linoleum
together
in defiance of everything.

My cat Knowing that the
secret to existence
and endurance
is a fine meal
and some good rest.

And perhaps
forgetting everything else
for a little while.

Sitting Here Beside You

I struggle internally
With things of no real importance.

Take, for instance
That tonight the moon
Is important
The fire before us
Is important
The music, yes, the music
Is always important
The wine the wine the wine
Might be of some importance
Our friends
So important

And you beside me
Well,
That’s most important of all

And I want to be here
Right now
In every way

Because one day
I won’t be here
You won’t be here
The fire will be gone

Funny that I think of
such sad things
Funny that I steal time
from myself away
from where I should be
funny that I do that
at times like these

funny I can’t help it.

Abandoned Factory on Shade Street

Broken glass
fragmented as
a childhood memory
mingles with weeds,
catching light;

little lost stars strewn
across cracked pavement.

Inside crumbled walls
dormant boilers resemble
the tombs of future pharaohs.

Among them,
webbed machines corroded
beyond motion
make for silent sentinels.

I see the child I once was
playing
a ghostly riddle
a translucent shape
in my peripheral.

Such places and I
are no strangers
to the end.

Teeming with
abandoned wonder
buried under
decades of paperwork
this still air stirs the
little dreamer
and here the dreamer dances.

I let out a breath.
I can feel what is lost
what is gained
through time.

The largest skeletons
you can find
are of metal in distant fields.

Both harrowing and peaceful
-a past that stands in light.

Forgotten and
vacant
like last night’s dream.

You of Raging Self-Importance

A piranha in a power shirt.
A vacuum cleaner salesman at midnight.
An emperor at a garage sale

at my door
under my car
in my backyard
down my shirt

ten carat
thousand watt
billboard
colgate
prime time
smile

It’s never enough
to rule the world
ask anybody
at the chalet.

All of you
of raging self-importance:

I am tired.
You need to stop
being so rich.

I’m running up a
descending escalator.

I’m always out of breath
out of time
out of mind.

I’ve got to get to work.
I’ve got to survive.

I lost my shoe…

When I Pass

When I pass
I don’t want flowers
or a sermon
or tears.

I want the shade of a tree,
a gentle breeze
and a bird song.

I want to be that bird
and that tree
and perhaps a snail.

I would still want to live
and I will.

It may be dark
for a little while
until there is light again

but it will come
as sure as the next sunrise
the next song
the next rain.

So don’t mourn for me
because I’m not there.

I’m in the trees
in the grass
in the air.

I’m everywhere
but in the box.

I’m already on my way
to something else.

Take this moment instead.
Take a deep breath.
Take a good look around and

don’t cry for angels
that won’t cry for you.