Category Archives: Poetry and Prose for pro’s (or anyone really.)

There are many different types of poetry and prose, but all of these are original to myself.
(Or could be attributed to subconscious plagiarism, which I believe to be forgivable.)

Internet Down Time

In the down time that is the in internet as of late, it has been very difficult to get the news out that the internet is down because of a natural disaster in the far reaches of Swaziland. It seems that an African bombardier beetle battled a water buffalo, which trampled a laptop computer that was connected to the mainframe at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where a secret government program was in development. This program was being designed in coordination with the department of defense in order to suppress the entire internet globally in a matter of minutes. Our sources tell us that this new technology works much the same manner as the hydrogen bomb, but declined to provide any details as the program is still classified. The current damages from this dilemma are estimated to be approximately $12,098,473,221 dollars so far, but may rise in the near future…in much the same manner as a mushroom cloud.


This is the second installment of my series of short stories. Not to be confused with a short story series. It was originally named “He” but the title changed with the modifications I put to the story. It’s the same as it was, only different.

He wished he could stay outside forever right now. The air smelled good, and felt good in his lungs. The sun washed out the scenery around him making the world look sort of ethereal.

When he thought about it, how could something as wonderful as the sun not have that effect on everything around it?

He wished he could just sit and watch the people going by with their ordinary lives all abuzz as always.

So much good in life. Such extraordinary things tucked inside the package of routine life.

Well, so much for life. He had to go to work.

Fifteen minutes later he opened a large wood framed glass door, nodded at Mrs. Valentine the the receptionist, then went through the door marked, “Dr. McManus”. Once inside, he pressed the intercom button, spoke his name, pressed his heel against the part of the floor that recognized the chip, and entered his lab. It was no ordinary lab as it was clean, neat, and devoid of everything but papers and a giant wall monitor.

The wall before him stood just the way he left it except he had 200 more emails than when he left twelve hours ago. He barely had a chance to sleep at all after he finally got work off his mind. He always left a clean screen but it always filled up. Four foot square of a solid pixelated work.

Now he was back in body and mind. All the thoughts flooded to him reminding him why he was here. Why he would sacrifice 12 hours a day five days a week for an indeterminable amount of time.

He was a genius.

There were no spaces between cases. Killers killed for sport. Terrorists killed for their eternal reward…which couldn’t come soon enough for him. He could make the connections that no computer could. He understood human motivations. No program could be designed to calibrate for the complexities of the human mind, or the depravity it can fall into if one stops resisting evil.

FBI and CIA outsourced their toughest cases to him and three others, but very few people ever knew about this program.

Money couldn’t pay him enough. The best payment was when he saw a man walk by him smiling as he talks to his wife, or the woman who desperately tries to keep her five children from randomly filling the shopping carriage while at the corner grocer. How many people could keep killers inline and prevent murders, bombings, and even wars that the ordinary people would never know about? He had been given an extraordinary gift.

Every ordinary day was a good day.

A shout in the Dark.

The goblin stood, looking about
Not a thought crossed his mind.
Looking down at the source of the shout
Glaring, snarling and acting in kind.

A young boy had ventured deep
Into the wood and stood
Now facing what fears creep
Into his most unimaginable dreams.

Pictures source unknown.

Reflected in the water was the state of his soul

As ugly as it ever had been.

Young as he was, he took back control

And gave God the rest of his sin.

Poem by Dan Delyon

The Beast.

Darkness quiet, light Serene

Guide my soul to worlds unseen.

For by thy strength the powers stand

Whence Sounds and clouds crowd O’er the land.

and Stretched from distant fabled place

I see a drama in times of old.

My gallant nave does skew his face,

For inset in his arrogant soul

There be a token of his mind,

A glimpse of things he soon will find.


Flung now aside all play at grace

He flees before the dragons voice.

Beast unearthly, calms not one fear

But plays on all as if a drum.

The brute walks out, with force of his nature

and Bends the mind of all but his creator.

Of one more fool he makes his meal

While watching on  in dream surreal

I find that there is much to know.

Thus, much can be learned from long ago.

~Dan Delyon