The Distorted Poet Campaign Poster 2012-2013-2014 Versions

•June 18, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Screen Shot 2013-05-26 at 5.56.24 AMThese promotional posters is to help spread the word and to find new individuals that would have an interest in my work. Unfortunately, I don’t spend 1 Million Plus to marketing firms so they can create such things for me. However, I know if you are willing to help out, this is how you can.

1. Print any of these Posters below onto your computer.
2. Go to Kinko’s Fed Ex, or any other printing press/stationary/legal printing shop and create a laminated poster board size.
3. Go to your local college and post them on where bills (posters likes this one) or fliers are available to be posted.
4. Ask local Coffee shops, Book stores if you can display the poster.
5. The Poster is self explanatory and can only be used with a smart phone
(iPhone, Blackberry, GooglePhone, etc.)

Email me your street campaign work to michael [at]                                                                                                                                  and receive a free digital copy of choice (I will choose) for free.

Thanks a bunch for spreading the word. And thank you for being a reader.


The Distorted Poet Promo 2013 White House

-Winter, Spring & the upcoming Summer Season’s of 2015 – 2016-

•May 10, 2016 • Leave a Comment

The right things to do in my life have suddenly became a strange way of chaos magick in the recent season’s since December of 2015. I was booted out into the slaughter of nothingness from my home the same day news crews stormed where I was living. I am calling this period “Into the never where I go…”.

Why did news crews storm the home in which I lived? Who gives a fuck. Next!

I spent a little under two months immediately after in San Diego, California; creating independent music video’s for local music groups, Watched prized dogs while dog sitting for a woman who had diamond rings and earrings all laid out in the bedroom where I was asked to sleep in while the owner was away. And other odd jobs. My youngest brother was more involved in finance, than the well being of his oldest brother. Which is fine, an individual has their own road and choices they desire to make in their lives. And my other brother… Well, nada…

So, one evening; two weeks after the owner of the house in San Diego came back, we got into a brief argument, and I left out to San Bernardino, California… Where I was living for twenty three days. 

The roommates were all insane in their own special way. 
A couple that lived in one room decided it was customary to beat his girlfriend to a pulp and the girlfriend would never press charges, or ask for help. Black male, and a Mexican female. Both were American and have a child together, and was in foster care, custody… Why? I imagine you could figure that one out pretty quickly.

Living there, I would survive by a huge spread of food that was always left on the countertop, in exchange for cleaning up and again… watching the dogs during day light and some night light hours. The owner of the house was a bit on the bipolar strange side.

 She was Tweetle Dee obese… You can understand the visual.

  More odd jobs and no stable work found. My independent literature does not sell, and most of my friends are “pound town illiterates” who do not admire someone who thrives and writes during this busy lifestyle… They are more involved on making as much money as possible by any means. No need for the soul, money will make that happen… right? A-hum…

And now, I reside in Rancho Cucamonga, California and survive by a good high school pal and surrounding neighbors. I am pleased that I am in this now situation; living in the garage or sleeping in my vehicle outside, sometimes by default of being sleepy and comfy in my own vehicle… not because I currently have no choice but to sleep in my vehicle.

And now, I barely receive enough to survive (food, gas) doing odd jobs.

Friends buy me lunch and discuss Christianity as if they want me to join. Basically harassing me in the process… How do you tell them to shut the fuck up?

They’re worse than the energizer bunny in their compulsion. Turning into Jim Carrey, as if it is funny to speak like a four year old, chanting a mantra such as “You’re going to hell.”… And it just doesn’t fit my diet and road in which I was made. And it definitely does not acquire my appetite.

Lately, I have been sleeping two hour days, trying to find work (applied for well over four to five hundred positions), And writing like I already wrote these books. Forest of Caves: Deeper Within the Flesh? It is complete. Just not sure when I want to publish it.

Being homeless and publishing a book is kind of strange. I mean, should the summary discuss how I was semi homeless and homeless while completing this? Living in my vehicle for thirteen nights and fourteen days? And shortly after that fourteenth day, I was mysteriously living in a Thai buddhist temple for three months straight, while slaving ten to twelve hours a day for no money, whatsoever? Apparently I was, as they placed it amongst their devotees “the prophecy”, considering I showed up just before the group went out to long beach to toss and bless the master monks mothers ashes into the Pacific Ocean. 
And being currently homeless in California? I was born and raised here… Born in Glendale, Ca. So I ask; why in the fuck am I homeless here? 
It is simply So fucking strange…

At this moment in time, I feel this strange numbness around me. Empty. And I am going completely mad within, due to not writing more and more than I should be already. And I whacked my head every day that passed while not writing more than a few thousand words per day. Instead of the many endless ones already written on my mind…

The ancient personas that roam this literary earth has got me in a world wind, due to individuals rather needing visual suck and fuck, rather than a good word pounding…


… And this to me, who ever may be reading these words… Very sad, indeed.


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The Elder – A story written in the book “The Dreamer is Still Asleep: Short Stories for Those Haunted”

•April 3, 2016 • 1 Comment

The book,  The Dreamer is Still Asleep: Short Stories for Those Haunted (Lulu Publishing, July 24, 2009) is a collection of short horror stories. However, I wrote one short story in the book that was not a horror at all. It is a very short story I wrote and I would like to share it for free. Enjoy the read.

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The elder man walked freely and at ease in his humble home. His calm and quiet mind, day to day, was free of any stress or worries. He understood the balance of life and he understood it well. He sang with grace from the heart. Today, he began to sing “In everyday is a good day for me. And in everyday is a good day for me.

His customs were simple. He kept to himself and fed by his vegetable garden in the back yard.

With his many animals, he never worried about where he would need money to purchase food. The river nearby also kept him well with the flowing clear and fresh spring, and the salmon that flowed upstream always were available if the elder felt the need to catch one or two.

The elder man grew up, never worrying about war, poverty or anything else that would cause grief in our daily lives today. He was a very simple and a Zen-like man in all of its meaning.

He never felt depression, or worry of change, and never felt the beauty of emotional pain. He understood the lessons that it nurtured, and used it for positive only, and never negative.

He sang with the birds every morning. He whistled while he walked around. He danced with the wind when it blew hard. He raised his arms up high when the rain fell.

He never worried about traveling around the world. The elder man knew where he was born, and he desired nothing else but to stay where he stood till he passed into the Earth below his feet. This was the elder mans soil, and no one could take that away from him.

At night, the stars were at arms reach and he enjoyed looking up above with a glow that most could never achieve in any lifetime. His only dream, was to feel what he always felt day to day… His blissful mind. His calm heart and blood flow.

The elder man had never worried about anything. He never worried about humanities cruel side. War. Hate… Violence. Never once did those thoughts ever cross the elder mans mind, his humble and calm mind.

Not even in his dreams.

(c) 2009 Michael G. Stone, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Physodrone – San Francisco Sex Therapy & Couples Counseling Center (Music Short film Video) 2016

•March 9, 2016 • Leave a Comment

I have not really written much during the last year on here. And I have been focusing on many mediums of creation and process of literature and audio soundscapes. I have been focusing a lot of time on my musical project Physodrone.

Recently, within the last couple of years I have worked with many various entertainers; (American) Tracy Kaos, Matt Madden, Cory Axtel, Bess Grotesque, Willy JOe, Joanna Donofrio And the new and official band member to be joined into the band, Star Child.


The video footage is taken place during 2012 – 1016 in various locations around the United States, while traveling around and surviving.


“San Francisco Sex Therapy & Couples Counseling Center”, the song is the cup of tea I have been waiting for in the world of Physodrone’s main idea of the band itself “Voice, Manipulated by computers”.

Gysin, Burrough’s, P’ Orridge, Balance, Christopherson, among many others have used the cut up theory method. As I do for this project since I began it in San Francisco of 2001.


Enjoy this short film music video. Wear headphones and enjoy the LSD / Lynchian-isk musical masterpiece.


PHYSODRONE – San Francisco Sex Therapy & Couples Counseling Center (EBM)






•February 19, 2016 • Leave a Comment



In 2009 I began a piece entitled “Deeper Within the Flesh”. I did not complete the piece until three days before taking a plane out to San Francisco, California (SFO) and filmed on location inside of City Light’s Bookstore without a permit (someone actually yelled “Get a permit” while reciting the first 224 words of the piece. The piece took almost eight years to complete.


Thanks Tracy Kaos for filming!


I asked her before hand after drinking a shot of whiskey and a pint glass of good beer next door at the bar across from Kerouac Alley;

“No matter what happens, keep the recording going. If we get kicked out, keep it rolling.”

We did not get kicked out, and I purchased a T Shirt and some goods while Tracy purchased some very good Computer Science books. Her and her PHD in computer science panties. Meanwhiles…

Check out the video. Cheers! And thank you Lawrence Ferlinghetti! Much respect!


The first 222 word transcript of “Deeper Within the Flesh” reads for you below;


“Deeper within the flesh”

(The first 222 words)

A very gray wind from the Middle Eastern lands

One by one – the sand arose into the sky.

As the scales of the air

Thick and crowded

A congested freeway on rush hour

Marching onto a dark beyond

And god stood above, laughing.


She cloaks her lust into my view

Her breasts – nude before me…

Heaven could not imagine such beauty

Until laid there before me.



Un borrowed – and mine for my forbidden appetite.


A lustful year as I ate the poison from the apple

And I now,

Cursed by a dark witch as she laughs

Her piercing gypsy hell…


In London; I afloat in a discreet opium bar…

I stare up at a woman; the silver bride.


With three eyes and six breasts.

Her skin, radiation blue…

Her eyes; ancient turquoise green…

And her hair – Amethyst crystals…


Flowing exquisite perception.


She stared, smiling.


Naked—cross-legged—and her arms swayed like a constant motion

Like endless waves from the Pacific Ocean…

She is a very dark and ancient demon as well as I.


One minute passed…


I, dazed from those oh-so-yellow.


Come and watch the world be gone within seconds.


Forever in a place of destruction…


We go deeper within the flesh.

Without question, that is all mortals are…

They are flesh.

Filled with endless memories—many not even their own.

(c) 2106 Michael G. Stone ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


This will be the cover of the book with minor editing. Cover art created by the Polish artist Justyna Gajda.

Book: “Forest of Caves: The Darkest Garden” is now available on Kindle [The Distorted Poet]

•April 29, 2015 • Leave a Comment

The whole shit house went up in flames. And during that portion of my life, the Darkest Garden can now be purchased in digital format. Inside, there are many written works that were selected from the years 2001 – 2007 and later published originally in 2009. The Darkest Garden, the poem itself was written in the span of three months straight. Day and night. Thought after endles thought to create the many tens of thousand words you will find yourself reading in a state of many thoughts; from a romance to many trials of horror and hidden demons within the piece.

Find out for yourself by purchasing the book for only $4.99 USD (Many other formats are available around the globe.)

Go to the link below and grab yourself the digital copy!


THE DARKEST GARDEN BOOK COVER11 2015-04-11 at 9.44.56 PMScreen Shot 2015-04-30 at 12.05.41 AM

BELOW ARE PROMOTIONAL Videos for the book. Enjoy!

The Darkest Garden Book Teaser – 2014 Version

The Darkest Garden Book Teaser 2012 Version

The Darkest Garden Book Teaser 2015 Version

The Distorted Poet reads; “Deeper within season’s of heaven and hell” A work of Experimental prose.

•April 15, 2015 • Leave a Comment

This piece I wrote is inside the kindle version of “Forest of Caves: Season’s of Heaven and Hell” and can be purchased in the link below. Inside the book, you will notice words in bold print.. and as you scroll down while reading the original poems, you will notice more and more of these bold printing of words and short sentences.

In this video, I recite the words inside the book as it is an experimental piece I created in respects of Burrough’s and Gysin’s Cut-Up Theory. Cutting a work of art, or a group of words to create a somewhat passage into your own future, and so forth.

Below is a youtube video of that read, last week at the Taco Station in Southern California.

Headphones are encouraged.

The piece itself is as reads below:

Get your copy of the book, here: Forest of Caves: Season’s of Heaven and Hell [Kindle Version]

                                       “Deeper within Season’s of Heaven and Hell”

The year will


Of those few


Inside laughter

All deep in…

Looking back into

Many months I lay


Heaven and hell…

I wish for…

I asked of my…

Filled within

Clear water sky…

My lips frozen.

The ring.


The land of Sandosphere is…

Everyone burning

Not anyone learning…

The roads…

The stars come out until;

My love…

Let’s make amends.

To come…

Every morning of the rising sun…

I’m sick of all of life’s tears.

Become deep in thought…

So we stare

Many years ago…

Spread your wings,

To the century point…

Sounds of pattern…

That diamond glow…

Ask yourself…

What do I really?

Continuously stomp on…

In the shadows all around us…

Swimming in its pleasure.

In its divine…

Flames flowing from the sun.

Beauty in all

In a wondrous heaven…

Her beauty reminds me of the setting of the sun…

In the molding

I can now feel.

I shall be cleansed.

The power of love

By the power…

I had a feeling life…

In this time…

Caressing the trees.

Love lies

Of the forsaken only…

I await the day of the moon in its full.


Endless in my eyes…

I call upon the surroundings all around.

Today may bring the warmth of midsummer.

I see, it is time next to this stream.

Dipped into a stream

So much truth…


In the shore…

In their crystal glow…

Let us feel the wind in its darkness.


Forbidden sunlight.

Deeper within season’s of heaven and hell.

(C) 2005 [Forest of Caves: Season’s of Heaven and Hell] ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Thank you for being a reader!

-Michael G. Stone

The Distorted Poet Discusses purchasing a Poem – Lettered Version (Limited)

•April 15, 2014 • Leave a Comment

I hope all is good and in good spirits while reading this. I have decided to create a lettered special limited edition poem; hand written and numbered/Signed by me to help with finances and save up to focus on a United States Spoken word tour in the near future. 7C9FF975-F64F-4366-A281-DAB6EC5F9F51.jpeg

The title is a published work of prose And in order to do this, I have decided to create a special, hand written and lettered version for those whom desire to have a hand written piece of history by yours truly. Each one will be specially hand written, to each individual. Lettered, numbered and send to your very own mailing address as soon as possible. First of all, I love to write letters, so this will be a very charming decision I have made for people that are interested in my work, and desire something they can especially frame for their very own, personalized, autographed and numbered.
The hand written prints will go for $200.00 USD each and more, depending on your generosity and will and want of me to tour around the United States and perhaps further out and abroad in the future years ahead.

If you are interested in purchasing one for yourself, please like and send me your email and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Or you can just email me at thedistortedpoet [at] yahoo [dot] com, and I will reply as well. You can email me, and let me know how you feel, personally about my work also. Bad, good, it does not matter. Perhaps you are charmed by my literature and desire to let me know. Perhaps you are a sweet admirer who desires to get to know more about me. Whatever it is, please do write me an email and I will be looking forward to your thoughts, either way.

Thank you for reading my work, being a reader and I hope this campaign goes well and wish me lots of luck.
-Michael ❤

“When the WINDS blow onto West-End-Gy” – by The Distorted Poet

•April 11, 2014 • Leave a Comment

“Have fun racing… bye.”  A last text I decided to remark upon. So tired of waiting, and life is too short for mourn, as we all know. So it is time for me to allow the spring to be at full bloom and watch the honey bees mate, sting my with their love bind and see where the world leads beyond. I am cleared from the bind of that wicked witch from old and desire the white witch of the now to be full, pink, perfect and in sync with my ways, our love, and our future… And I am tired of waiting for the old fuse that blew me away in July of last year… Please enjoy this piece, I wrote below. Please note the phrase “West-End-Gy” is pronounced: West End Gee (like Geek).




When the WINDS, blow on West-End-Gy

The world flows like glitter in our eyes,

The world flows like shivers in our hearts

The world flows like sparkles in our minds,

And when the WINDS blow on West-End-Gy… you know the best is here to be.


And we dance around like we are the only ones around

And we dance and laugh, and dance and sing, and dance around, and dance around and dance dance dance to our West-End-Gy.

When the WINDS blow on West-End-Gy,

We see the river waters rise and flow without paths,

And we wonder where we are, and what do we continue to do;

And we walk un shackled like the rest of the world is, and we fall in our own realms until we come clear into our years


And we sing and laugh and dance and sing and laugh and laugh and watch the WINDS blow onto West-End-Gy.

Calm into you.

Calm into you.

Calm into you… and dance!


(c) 2014, Michael G. Stone



Another day Quarantined.

•April 9, 2014 • Leave a Comment

It really is strange that I have been sick with this flu-turned-laryngitis for almost one week now.

I really hate taking cough suppressants,




I think the only pro of having this cold is to realize that outside lately have been in the 80-90 *photo copy 3 range and it feels cold to me. Other than that, this cold really sucks. This cold knocked me down good.  The photo shows me knocked on my ass due to these little microbial body destroyers, over riding my body and slowly tearing me apart.


I can barely think straight enough to write, much less have been doing any writing lately. I did write a letter recently, and decided not to send it out, do to the pages being infested with so many microbes by me coughing onto the page while writing… Don’t think it would be a good thing, sending it out to another Country to evolve with this flu that I somehow received out here…sick in bed Still cannot pin point where I could have received this death flu…


I imagine this will fall off into the abyss soon enough, and I am about done with harvesting such a dreadful virus for almost one week straight. Did I mention how much I hate cough suppressant syrups, aspirin,


For now… it just is.

-TDP, Michael





A terrible Spring cold.

•April 8, 2014 • Leave a Comment




Day five of this terrible spring cold is now one step higher; and I woke up this morning to absolutely no voice as I told myself… “Oh, great.” and went back to sleep. That was at 2:35am (0235)… And I write this now at 7:41pm (1941) And I wrote this to let the people around me know that my voice was out and could not have a normal conversation.





I hate feeling like this… And I imagine it was necessaryphoto copy .

To the right of this is a photo of me while placing an Amon Ra stone on my forehead and I laid there for a while; meditating on a lot of things that are negative and positive in my life. And I feel it is time for me to rid myself of the negative and follow thru with the positive aspects and inspirations of my own. I do enjoy how the photograph is a bit blurred, and it shows a similar idea of how I was feeling at the time and even now, as my body perspires and is releasing toxins from my body. I do feel a sense of energy and I also have decided to focus on things much further than I have been.

I imagine I should take a nice hot shower soon. And I do indeed feel more energetic within, however I do feel I need rest still and hopefully it will release from my body completely in a couple more days. Who knows.


I can not wait to snap out of this very bad cold… I really hate the taste of cough syrup. One of the Buddhist monks where I live just knocked on my door and handed me some over the counter medication. I hope it helps. Glad he is good to me.

I obviously have not been recording anything from the Darkest Garden as of late. For obvious reasons. I am glad I have been getting energy back though. Never knew what a cold could be like until this one arrived.


I will write more soon enough.