John Cosmos Aller

John Cosmos Aller is a novelist, poet and retired U.S. diplomat having served 27 years in the Foreign Service.  He has been writing poetry and short stories for decades, and has published his poetry and fiction in over 25 literary journals.  His poetry can best be described as “neo-beatnik” as growing up in Berkeley he has been heavily influenced by the beatnik writers. During his foreign service career, he served in ten countries (Korea, Thailand, India, the Eastern Caribbean (lived in Barbados but covering Antigua, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, St Kitts, St Lucia, and St Vincent) and Spain


Early Morning Thoughts

Early in the midst of a chaotic frenzy

I caught the fragrance of her sweat grin

And my heart did a swirling spin

There I stood

Alone in a somehow too dismal room

Full of vibrant people

I knew not what to say

So I spent that dismal day

Thinking dismal morbid thoughts of lugubrious doom

Thoughts what might happen that day

Thus it went

Years after ever melancholy year

Days after ever gloomy days

Nights of self-induced torture

Months of nightly rancid beer

There it went


I am sitting and thinking

Thoughts so gloomy

I still don’t know

Life belongs to the living

Not to the morbid mystic dreamers

Nor the poets dying

Depressed morbid nights

One of these depressed, depraved, morbid nights

I shall awake to the God damned game of life

And sit under the graying light

Of the foolish full moon

And laminate upon my luminance

And chew up the garments of past lives

And cry my soul

But no one will hear the plight of my mind

On strike for better wages

And more love

Thus, I will sit, and think and dream

Dreams that no one ever before dreamt

It is so very lonely being a foolish lunatic

But then as I drink to oblivion

I begin to think

Of all those things that I have not experienced

And wonder with a vengeance

Why God hates me so

Or is it only an illusion?

When will awake

Or do we just sit waiting for more beer

To cover up

The stench of putrid rotting flesh

Waiting for death to take us away

To the Cosmic garbage dump in the sky

Trying to communicate across a gap

That is light years’ long

And will never close

For man was not made to know

The real thoughts of another

Man was made to suffer, cry and wait

For the party in Hell afterwards

Shit, let’s us die and be done with it

Or live with out our God damned dreams

Running our thoughts

Into pits of depraved madness