Daniel N. Flanagan Writing

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Posted on December 28, 2013 at 9:40 PM Comments comments (0)



And my whole life has been like;

I am the flowers

The pretty flowers sitting in the vase,

Decorating the mahogany dining table;

Silently dying


Smelling of tropical plumeria petals.

Sucking up water while leisurely wilting.

Looking gorgeous,

And then presentable,

And then accordingly.


All my owners do is force feed me more water;

Drown me.

Gaze upon me with disgust as I,



But I cannot live without sunlight,

Without love.

My petals are all set, all ready

And yet they go no where.


Sitting in this vase, I slowly decay.


Originally published by Dead Snakes on 12/28/13


Republished by Leaves of Ink on 02/28/14



Posted on December 26, 2013 at 5:00 PM Comments comments (0)




There is now snow, and you are no angel.

You worship on your knees,

But God has turned away.


Originally published by Three Line Poetry.

Online (12/26/13)

Print (01/09/14) http://prolificpress.com/bookstore/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=2&products_id=66


Posted on October 10, 2013 at 11:40 PM Comments comments (0)



Write her


Maybe that means I am a true contemporary writer

For if I do not

Write her

I feel burdened

Feel guilty for not doing so,

Doing her

I cannot scorn another woman who offers love

And so my love interest in writing is karma ridden

For I desire her strongly, seek her

Need her, be inspired and treat her well

She never repays me, never relaxes me, never satisfies me

Financially, sexually, intellectually

Damn you, writing

But if Slim did it

Shady, id and ego all

Perhaps my background will drive me

Perhaps my Kim will return with the fame.

What I wouldn’t give for one unlucky dame to call mine.

For the fights fuel me,

So I provoke them, stroke her, she strokes me,

I strike her

Now I finally have something to write.

She wipes the blood off her lips and runs to the fridge to grab me a Budweiser,

She has been trained well.

It’s time for a new one,

She is growing stale, pale because she is too afraid to leave this motel room.

So I kick her out, she falls again,

Don’t worry, no one sees.

She will float out to seas.

Bliss, I will cherish the miss

Kiss kiss, goodbye bliss.


www.AberrationLabyrinth.blogspot.com/ (Issue #008)

Originally published by Aberration Labyrinth on 10/10/13

N.O. Xplode

Posted on October 10, 2013 at 11:40 PM Comments comments (0)

N.O. Xplode


Sleep kills

Sleep spills

My thrills

Spill over


My dreams are hiding

I can’t find em’

Looking for em’

Empty bottles


I sleep light

Then cause a fight

In the dawn of night.

Rusted armor

Broken neck


Support my neck,

Striped pillow.

The fluff is hollow.

I can’t follow you Lord,

To dreamland.

This mattress is my open casket,

My mind erodes, corrodes, never explodes

Close though, exciting panic attacks

Goodbye sleep,

Goodnight world.




Originally published in "The Onyx" Spring 2012 edition (print)


Posted on October 10, 2013 at 11:35 PM Comments comments (0)



My memory bank is fillin’ up

Preventing my slumber.

All my daily trials

Surmount my mind.

I’ve been usurped.

This chest is filled with

Pandora’s hate.

My cerebral cortex is

Committing suicide.

Taking time to think

I can’t sleep,

Won’t blink.

I hate you.

Thanks mom.




Originally published in "The Onyx" Spring 2012 edition (print)

An Artist's Rendering

Posted on October 10, 2013 at 11:35 PM Comments comments (0)

An Artist's Rendering


You walk around impersonating a God.

They look straight through you, like driving through fog.

The drive is treacherous, but your insecurities are transparent.

Pray for your redemption

Pray for my appreciation

You are God’s son.


Your head held high

Your hair gel holding

Your whole is a hole.


Pay your toll; at the river Stix

High thrills, arrogant pricks with little dicks

Chip on your shoulder

You can’t shoulder her pain

Letting her tears rain down her cheeks

Rumors leak, you’re a freak


Lay still as your eyes lie, two blue pools


A drained quarry

Straight teeth, crooked lies.


If you cared, you’d let that baby go

On the pursuit of happiness, not cocky dicks.

Cheap thrills & lies stand still.

Kill that pill.




Originally published in "The Onyx" Spring 2012 edition (print) 


Daniel N. Flanagan, Writing, Worcester MA, @DanielNFlanagan, The Commonline Journal, The Round Up Zine, Beyond Imagination Digital Literary Magazine, Danse Macabre du Jour, Yellow Mama, Aberration Labyrinth, Pyrokinection, Leaves of Ink, The Camel Saloon, Three line poetry, Eskimo Pie, Dead Snakes, The Stray Branch, The Onyx, Daddy's Girl, Writer, Lilac, Ex-Girlfriend, Drive Home, An Artists Rendering, N.O. Xplode, Kip