My name is Derek Ostuni and I am 27 years young. I grew up in Naugatuck Ct. most of my life and attended school at Naugatuck high and attended only two semesters of college at the local community school. I started writing when I was 19 but only started cultivating it a couple of years ago. My influences are mostly the old dead poets. My favorites are Longfellow, Shakespeare, and Lord Byron and recently I’ve been reading Charles Bukowski. I also like to read old novels and some new stuff too. I am very spiritual yet at the same time I can be very dark. My range of experience is very vast for someone my age. When I was in high school I went to Cuba to play baseball for a junior Olympic team. I also played basketball and soccer though not for the school. I have suffered through manic depression and drug addiction. This is where a lot of my inspiration and writings come from. I am a survivor and a story teller. Some of what I write holds so much truth and some just sounds like my own gears grinding. Either way it is all official. I rarely make anything up just to fill a page. I am hoping that my book with give others that are struggling a sense of connection and inspiration to go after their dreams and to have courage and strength when dealing with the darker elements. I think there is something for everyone in these writings since they cover the more primal aspects of living. The light, the darkness, life, death, love, and desire are prominent in my work. I am really hoping it can reach the public for the greater good and I have a great amount of faith in it as do others in my life.
We try to remember our song
Our magic
Or get a new one
We write
We sing
We play
But the harder the heart
Pushes and strains
The longer we will wait
For what has
Always remained under it all
In all it’s seeming endless
Parts
But then again not at all
By my house
The high street by my house
Runs a black jeep by day
Dark and sleek
Like an arrow head
There is a woman with flowing wind caught hair
Who waves
And beeps her horn like it is some kind of
Mechanical seduction
Hand out the window to receive my
Greeting
Though I cannot recall who drives this
Arrow
Who runs the road in front of my home?
With her pheromones
I dream of princesses and
Poems
Possibilities of love
Run through me repeatedly
They conquer
Possibilities of friendship or
Conversation
Lust
Seduction
And what I have now to give her:
Half a heart
A smoky cloudy spirit combusting like a
Dirty chemical
A solar flare
Pieces
And a soft beckon
Two words and then silence
Dull and low
Have me
I don’t stop her when she races by
For what could a liar say?
To a queen
I lie to myself endlessly
And to her?
What could this all mean?
These fly by encounters?
It’s like a torment
She flows like the Mississippi
Past my home
Where my love is bent
And angled towards
Aggravation
Now I am pale and spent
And alone
Dreaming of black arrows
Black jeep
Pain in my heart
Sad paling reminder of non-equality
Axe to my joy
Dream of today
Retreating
Fading like an autumn maple
Racing like a train
Going nowhere
On desperation lane
