Stories, Poems and various Writings by SONNY VINCENT- These are some samples of my writings. Some have been published and some not. Later I will add more..these just happen to be on a 'floppy' that was used for a magazine that wanted some of this type of stuff from me!

MYTHOPOETIC WAR

BY Sonny Vincent

I can see the bright gems slowly turning on the surface of the sun. And over there smoke billows from a pile of books that were censored. Sweat is pouring from my brow, I am trapped. The General and his armies are chasing me. The Metallic Hound is now nipping at my heels. If I could only find the oasis. Just a moment to rest. I am losing touch, I become dizzy and weak. I am trapped and I need a sign from God. Is my journey useless and without purpose? The firing squad is taking aim, Only a miracle can save me now. I must be strong, Rip off this blindfold and tie their weapons into knots. But I can only sit here. Here at this lonely Train Station And stare at these cigarette butts on the floor. Like I said I must be strong.

LINOLEUM

By Sonny Vincent

Now it is time to realize that you live in a world dominated by cheap facsimiles. A dimension where linoleum is the nearest thing you will ever have to a friend. Why urinal do you gleam beyond the Milkyway? You must realize by now that human nature is very strange indeed. Dead bodies piled high will stink, but you can always put cologne on the rotting carcasses. Drive,Baby,Drive,Baby,Drive,Baby,Drive Drive this motherfucker into a street light. A puzzle piece that does not fit. Did you drop your soul? Or is that just spit from someones trachea on the sidewalk there? Incredible X-Ray vision, Get drunk, Heroin is stronger than drink, Shooting enough to blot out the sun. A syringe full of hope, Heroin like a fresh spring day, Full of optimism , Full of life and sparkling forevers. I give up. I give my soul to Linoleum.

THIS SEA IS A MACHINE

BY Sonny Vincent

Fish electrocuted on an electrified fence, except the green striped ones. For years now they have tried to melt the ice of their newest sexual appetite. This new age deserves to be answered. Where are the God Drivin Jellyfish? The conveyor belt to death. And how much time wasted on meaningless activities? White hot feelings of paranoia, A question mark of existence. Public opinion is more than reliable when hands are calloused and knotted. This Sea Is A Machine. I must get back what they took from me. And stand on the high peak. Give it back! Sly thief! Those black eyes are deep. Your own falseness is deep. But you really have no eyes at all! Egyptian murderer, I will kill you, Someday soon.

LIMBO DOWN WITH ME

By Sonny Vincent

Your hair is like fiber optic fishing line Your eyes are like Charles Manson Oh! but you know the twist Oh! but you know the atomic chicken Everytime Everytime Your voice is like money Your touch like the Hare Krishna Oh! but you can limbo Oh! do the pony Everyworld Everyworld As you can see I'm ready for anything As you can see I'm sort of in love As you can see I'm drunk on your door step As you can see I can't see cause I'm drunk Watch me as I shatter the glass Paranoid likeness of your fear Come close I must whisper here. You're giving me more than milk. You can serve my thirst. Oh! But you know how to limbo Oh! But you know how to limbo

IN THE PLACE FOR (OF)

By Sonny Vincent

Sixteen years in a cardboard box and the sun will hurt your eyes. Not to mention the grey stuff all over your feet. Let's go now to Egypt where there are no subways but if there were they would not screech. I am hungry, I am thirsty, I need rest, back and forth. You just like to see it written. Things like a bleeding telephone book. Quick, check your pocket is your money still there? Are you o.k.? A bowl full of eyes would not be like grapes. But I bet they would be drooling. Pokerface, which should tell a story unless you're an exec for Xerox and in that case call the C.I.A. or the nearest librarian. But wait, let's go no further with this exercise in additives. We should think of time. The sledge hammer of the clock beating on the temples. The serated edge of the calendar sawing through an elephant's skull bone. But this I swear to you, my friend. It's a set up. It is a stage. There are actors who are not paid. Don't let the vampires suck your life 'cause they'll lick you like a knife. Beware of time 'cause you're in the place for (of)

DOG ON THE SUBWAY WITH GOLD SHOOTING SPARKS

By Sonny Vincent

So many beautiful chances To climb to the heavens Only to be distracted By the arabic melody That creates a warm sea Did I see you in a glance? No you are destined to be A robot in a stage production Knowing not the pain you have been spared For through pain the useless Meaning can come clear To the surface like an incredibly Bad joke. So many activities to be appalled by Walking on the rim of the beach And knowing your place is there I sit sweating and nervous in my cabin Knowing that my vision is one of chance Convinced that on channel 2 there Is a more beautiful television show Beyond the edge of the beach Beyond the edge of the beach

JOE THE NICE GUY

BY Sonny

He was totally angry now. All dressed in the most important clothes for the most important job interview of his life and the man standing next to him on the subway train throws up all over the place. Joe's new suit jacket looked like a new wave outfit designed by Domino's Pizza. To make matters worse, he stepped in a huge clump of dog shit when he was walking down Madison Avenue. The combined odors of the puke and dog shit were so foul that it was beyond belief. He went into a bar and rinsed off his jacket and began cleaning his shoe. Of course the owner came in and said, "Who died in here?" Joe mumbled something like, "I'm really sorry, but a guy puked on me and I stepped in dog shit." Well, the owner said, "What'd you say?" And then said, "Never mind, just get the hell out of here. What d'you think this is, a YMCA or what?" Joe said, "Sorry," and began to wander out. On the way out he noticed a woman on a bar stool with what looked like a grub worm hanging from her chin. It was so strange – the woman talked and the whole time the gross white thing was just hangin' off her chin. Joe felt sick to his stomach but was strangely attracted to this wormy thing. It was about a half-inch in diameter and one and a half inches long and it was constantly moving - performing a sensual worm ballet right there on this woman's chin. It was moving, curling, swimming and even doing worm pull-ups. It was gross. Joe couldn't stand it anymore and he went up to the woman and said, "Excuse me, but there is something hanging from your chin." She reached her hand to her chin, grabbed the worm, took one look at it and screamed. She screamed for exactly one minute and forty seconds. Joe knew this because when he was a boy he always wanted his own wrist watch, and he asked for one on every birthday, Christmas and holiday. He never got one – but one Christmas when he was nine years old, there under the tree in a small package labeled JOE was a watch. The only problem was that it was a stop watch that had previously belonged to his Uncle Eugene who had recently deceased. Joe loved it. He fondled it, he polished it, he put it on the mantle and stood back at different distances and angles and would look at it for hours. Finally, he went into the basement and got an old innertube and cut a strip of rubber off of it and made a very secure wrist band with two slits cut in the rubber to securely house the large stop watch on his wrist. He was in heaven. He would time everything. How long it took to piss, how long it took the kitchen water to get hot. He compared the time and temperature of the kitchen faucet to the faucet in the bathroom. Joe timed everything his whole life, so much so that the watch became quite useless. Joe was a human stop watch and the lady at the bar had just screamed for one minute and forty seconds.

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