I’d been searching for the answers… When finally she came along.
Preforming miracles, curing cancers. Giving music to the song.
She taught and gave directions. Even when I didn’t ask.
She let me know my fortune. In her sunshine I could bask.
She showed me all my foibles. And how little I evolved.
I felt criminally unworthy, so I left her. Mystery solved.
The day the voice moved in with me… He brought his good friend fear. Said we all share your heart and soul. You’ll soon forget we’re here.
The day the voice moved in with me. Peace and sleep moved out. And the addict he was at the door. The Voice did jump and shout.
Said, “We like you, we like it here. We know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.
The Voice would talk for hours about nothing much at all and all the noise would wake the fear and the drunk would wake withdrawal.
Years had passed in tears and stains and I had to kill the fear. The Voice he left in the middle of night said he didn’t like it here.
The Voice returns sometimes when I sleep, but he’s gone when I’m awake. The strength it took to kill the fear was more than he could take.
The drunk is with the addict and they live from coast to coast. And sometimes when I pray to God, I pray you’re not their host.
Singing… We like you we like it here and we know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.
Another day, sundown.
Another night, sundown.
Orange to black, sundown.
Fades to midnight blue.
There’s nothing I can’t do.
And here comes the night
And I don’t know why
I hear your voice
And I lose my way.
Where are you now?
Can I touch you somehow?
You’re somewhere near sleep where Images fade.
And here comes the sun.
Another night is done.
Here comes the sun.
And here I go again.
Saw the man, shot down.
Heard his voice, shot down . Eyes rolled white, shot down. Breathe goodbye that sound. Fades to midnight blue. There’s nothing I can do.
Another day shot down.
Another night shot down.
Orange to black.
Shot down.
Fades to midnight blue.
There’s nothing I can do.
DENNIS MANTIN
NEW BOOK RELEASE!
Look Them in the Eyes
Dennis Mantin. Friesen Press, 2023
There are thirty-two ways to write a story, and I’ve used every one, but there is only one plot—things are not as they seem.
Jim Thompson
Following the birth of his daughter, Jackie, middle-aged Zach MacIver is determined to stop what he terms “intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction” from plaguing his family. Over the course of two years, from the time Jackie is eight until she turns ten, Zach recounts his life experiences to her while attempting to navigate the obstacles created by her mother, Tina, who is experiencing her own version of intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction. The story begins during the COVID-19 pandemic when the world and its inhabitants face mounting daily trials and life-altering decisions. From there the narrative proceeds in a non-linear fashion as Zach recounts the roots of his own dysfunction and how his love for his daughter and his desire to be a good father forced him to face his difficulties head on. American author Jim Thompson once wrote, “There are thirty-two ways to write a story, and I’ve used every one, but there is only one plot—things are not as they seem.” This story is a great reminder of that.
Available now to purchase in eBook, paper, and hardcover from Amazon, Friesen Press, Barnes & Noble, Apple Books, Google Play, and Kobo.
ACCOLADES
Book I wish I could read again for the first time!
Dennis Mantin’s clean characterisation breathes life into the narrative, the realistic portrayal adds to the reader’s understanding of the book’s profound messages on life and people. What’s compelling about the novel is the the Protagonist’s journey, his perspective on “intergenerational transmission of family dysfunction” and how he’s determined to stop that from plaguing his family. The story is neatly told from Zach’s( the protagonist) perspective. It’s a non linear narrative with characters virtually jumping off the page. The characters, their presentation and Mantin’s unique writing style offer readers a fresh and deep perspective.
—Anuradha Basu, Amazon, November 21, 2023
Chances were the premium at the chances store.
Called up their proprietor and asked for just one more.
Inside information suggested relocate.
When they closed the chances store, it sealed the users fate.
With no plans for the future and the future, it is here.
Who knew that the sun would rise and whisper last nights fear?
So we headed for the highway, which ended at the light.
Looked upon arrival, no chances store in sight.
Searching for the answers that will ease the fears.
Some will stand there crying and find few are buying tears.
All are someone’s baby lost along the way.
Strangers and sojourners who have lost the need to pray.
And I say, “Pray”
Dennis Mantin
The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.
No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.
It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.
Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.
Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”
So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.
The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.
Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.
Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.
Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.
The teacher wrote something on the blackboard…
David said, “You make a better door than a window even though you are a pane.” (Pain was the intention.)
I laughed until tears streaked down my face. Never seen anyone show such disrespect and get away with it.
Rumors began to swirl that day that I was on drugs.
The quote I remember was, “Nobody laughs like that.”
I was 15 and had never taken drugs, and yes I laughed like that.
Dennis Mantin
Zylia, who is 7, asked me… “You ever think about what our pets think about when we leave them?”
“As a matter of fact I was just thinking about that yesterday and I don’t know if they think about anything other than eating… what do you think they think about?”
“I think they hope we don’t bring home any more pets.”
“Brilliant!”
Dennis Mantin
He was called Tiny Tom and worked as a bouncer at a dive on Queen street. He looked to be about 6’5″, 300 lbs.
A girl I dated whose name I can’t remember said she went to his place one time where he lived with his parents and he slept in a single bed in the bedroom he grew up in and the wallpaper was cowboys and Indians.
He wore a black bikers vest and stood at the doorway with his massive arms folded under a scowl that seemed to say fuck with me at your own peril.
The girl told me that his shins were as soft as jelly, and if he was ever hit in his legs, it would cripple him; he was in constant fear of being challenged.
One night after drinking way too much and wanting more, I left the bar with Tom who knew a bootlegger who lived close to where I lived.
Close by was a storage plant for American Standard toilets and a 5 ton truck with the engine running outside the plant. Tom decided he wanted to steal the truck and I left him and walked home.
The last I saw of Tiny Tom was the driver of the truck climbing up to the drivers door trying to stop him as about 10 to 15 American Standard toilets fell from the back of the truck and smashed on the road.
“Stop! Stop!” The driver yelled. The truck and Tom jerked to a stop… A long time ago.
Dennis Mantin
Dennis Mantin 
You must be logged in to post a comment.