Artchil Daug


Artchil Daug Poems

1. John Doe On Caffeine 8/19/2012
2. Deathcore 8/20/2012
3. The Enigma Machine 8/21/2012
4. Shahada 8/19/2012
5. Boracay Island 8/19/2012
6. A Photon On The Move 8/19/2012
7. The Camel In The Desert 8/19/2012
8. Occupy Madness 8/20/2012
9. Techno-Barangay 8/25/2012
10. Placid Penitent 8/20/2012
11. Holy Rosary 8/24/2012
12. The Gamer 8/20/2012
13. Fun Run For Progress 8/19/2012
14. Platonic Love 8/20/2012
15. Remembering The Dead 8/22/2012
16. No Leaf For Walt Whitman 8/21/2012
17. Blake's Night 8/21/2012
18. Reading Readiness 8/22/2012
19. Apocalyptic 8/24/2012
20. Advanced Engineering 8/24/2012
21. Love, Now 8/24/2012
22. Neighborhood Fire 8/24/2012
23. Pantomime Of A Madman 8/23/2012
24. Childhood Solitude 8/22/2012
25. Contemptuousness 8/22/2012
26. Journey 8/24/2012
27. Glory In The Buddha's Head 8/21/2012
28. Moonlight Sonata 8/21/2012
29. First Memory 8/21/2012
30. The First Books 8/21/2012
31. Air In The Afternoon 8/21/2012
32. The Watchman 8/22/2012
33. I Am 8/22/2012
34. A Child Playing 8/21/2012
35. Boundaries 8/20/2012
36. Restraint 8/20/2012
37. Battleship 8/20/2012
38. Love 8/20/2012
39. Arousal 8/20/2012
40. Ashera 8/20/2012
Best Poem of Artchil Daug

John Doe On Caffeine

The fumes of the newly brewed coffee
escaped beneath the buzzing sound of my table lamp

as shadows heaved itself in the living room
on that cold January dusk preparing to swallow me in bits

as heavy traffic clogged the streets just outside the windows
bellowing both human progress and street children just

like any other day that passed through as regular as
it can be nothing unusual and no breaking the metronome

that started in a morning that brought no novel meaning
only the repeating mantra of the placid river across town

raining leeches...

Read the full of John Doe On Caffeine

Where Is Lost.

Lost is where
they found the dead squirrel
up the attic below
the family boxes and photo albums
with its blood dripping
over the window sill
of time slices
kept in the luggage
a pound of smoke
held inside a woman's purse
inside a taxi
in the midst of a world contained
in the stale air
of unmoving sound.

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