I still regret losing those one hundred or so poems …
so vital, so rich in prose, so smooth in texture;
Now vanished, they have no way of seeing the light of day.
Mystics say that what is written never dies.
But what for my beloved thoughts so gracefully put to words?
Shall they one day come back to me
and be debuted to the world?
If my ever-endearing fortune has a thing to say about it,
then the case is all but promising.

The passions, hopes and fears, and the very proverbial manifestations of my inner psyche
all gone without a trace and all I’m left with is the present.
Be it but a month of my shortly condensed life,
the time was unique and in need of a very clear capture.
My words caught the feel of those turbulently beautiful days:
the culmination of sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll.
No matter how much I beseech God, he’ll never bring those words back to me -
Not in this life.
And if they were taken from me due to their lewd nature
I grieve not for in spite of all I lose
Never have I lost what I am and that which I live to do.
Perhaps those words weren’t meant to be read by any other soul by mine.
Or maybe, just maybe, the longing for creating a work as vivacious and lascivious in memory as those had been is lurking in the near future.
With despair comes ease I’ve been told.
Furthermore, the journey goes on and the when I come to think of it,
the best is yet written.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj

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I am a Meticulous craftsman
full of Erotic passions
and nothing short of a Narcissistic prick
who feeds off of Sexual energy.
My life goals are Ubiquitous yet endearing,
driven by the Raw desire to vanquish all.

By Mensur Gjonbalaj

Beast in the Heart


Beast in the Heart
An animal I am
Thirsty for the hand
Hungry for the flesh
Betrothing all the rest

An animal I am
I’m taking shapes
and losing ground
Yet I am what I am

Lurking ‘neath the streets
Dousing ’round the feet
of those in need of precious play
I care not for what they say

A beast is in the heart
And he knows just who he is
and what he does
‘Cause since the start
All his diamonds ever did was rust

By Mensur Gjonbalaj
October 28, 2014



Occult Tarots

The night sky reveals the hidden truth:
That all is one in the darkest of hours.
And with the coming of light
arrives the beacon of hope.
Therefore, despair not from the howling wind.
Lo, it is but a messenger of glad tidings

by Mensur Gjonbalaj
October 24, 2014

Riding the Tide


Riding the Tide
Forever alone
But never unknown
Bleak is the path
of unbeaten tracks

Coolness blows on my face
as gently as dust roams in space
I’m loaded with a passion so eager
to succeed it leaves my dreams meager

These are the blues of which I speak
Following me on every quest in which I seek
No matter how high the mountain
No matter how deep the fountain

Surely, there ain’t no running
‘Cause they’ll always be coming
Like whales in the ocean blue
I’ll learn to swim them through

Mensur Gjonbalaj
October 14, 2014



From my cries heaven bent;
They heard a plea from me again.
The gentle noise goes on beeping,
Yet my dormant thoughts are still sleeping.
Just like a lake they do not flow,
Instead they lie there uselessly
for reasons I do not know.

The silence I can no longer stand.
My mind’s abandoned my old hand.
What has become of the wide-eyed observer?
He seems possessed by some usurper.
Who’s sold his love for a sack of gold,
Believing only then will life unfold.

Indeed, his love’s a diamond in the rough;
So don’t give up, stand up, be tough!
Surly the silence will maintain
so long as stagnant you remain.
It is the pen that you must seek
to write the thoughts that make you weak.

Your weary mind needs no shelter:
it needs to free itself and skelter.
Only then will the passion burn
and drift the wind as pages turn.
The heart goes on beating,
though time is ever fleeting.
Words have no meaning without silence
When thoughts break-on out in violence.

But since my words are heaven-sent
their intent is all but violent.
On the wings of angels they shall fly
On the canvas of a rain-drenched sky
To the earth they’ll surely cry:
Until it’s written may he not die.
And if our prayers answer naught,
then in hell shall it be wrought.

Mensur Gjonbalaj
October 9, 2014

Waiting for the Night – Depeche Mode

Witching Hour

Witching Hour

Happy October!

Waiting for the Night

I’m waiting for the night to fall
I know that it will save us all
When everything’s dark
Keeps us from the stark reality
I’m waiting for the night to fall
When everything is bearable
And there in the still
All that you feel
Is tranquility

There is a star in the sky
Guiding my way with its light
And in the glow of the moon
Know my deliverance will come soon

There is a sound in the calm
Someone is coming to harm
I press my hands to my ears
It’s easier here just to forget fear

And when I squinted
The world seemed rose-tinted
And angels appeared to descend
To my surprise
With half-closed eyes
Things looked even better
Than when they were opened

Been waiting for the night to fall
Now everything is bearable
And here in the still
All that you hear
Is tranquility

by Depeche Mode