Saturday, November 24, 2018

Christine (español) - disponible ahora

Christine (Español)
traducido por Oriana Carrizo

Este es el cuento de Christine y el día que creció un pene.

Comprar eBook - R$3

Barnes & Nobel -

- apoya el arte independiente con tu dinero sucio y sexy -

Take Risk and Take Care

C. Sean McGee 
Satire / Existentialism / Sci-Fi

Thursday, November 15, 2018

The Case Against God

The Case Against God

Amidst protests and calls for his impeachment, God is interviewed by famed Rolling Stone columnist, Gene, to get his side of the story and to set the record straight once and for all. What follows is a grand conspiracy that will change the course of humanity forever.

Paperback - US$10

Amazon - Coming Soon
Barnes and Noble - Coming Soon
Kobo - Coming Soon
Cultura Livraria - Coming Soon

Take Risk and Take Care,

C. Sean McGee 

Sunday, November 04, 2018

Alex y El Tosco: una historia de HORROR

Alex y El Tosco: una historia de HORROR
Translated by Azael Alejandro Carrillo Ochoa

La historia de un niño educado y de buenos modales llamado Alex quien, después de ser secuestrado, desarrolla un increíble vínculo con un muñeco enojado y malhablado llamado El Tosco, quien le enseña al joven Alex cómo encontrar su voz.

Cuando Alex se despierta atado en un ataúd de madera para encontrar maldiciones y abuso maniático, encuentra algo que nunca imaginó poder tener, un verdadero amigo. En los siguientes días, un pequeño muñeco de humor extraño llamado El Tosco le enseñará a Alex cómo decir no, cómo afilar sus garras y cómo matar a un hombre.

Y un triángulo de engaños dejará a Alex preguntándose quién es la verdadera víctima.

Basado en eventos reales, Alex y El Tosco explora el tema filosófico del efecto de la domesticación de niños a través de aprendizaje de modales, y expone la premisa de 'la educación es la disciplina del abuso'.

Comprar ebook ahora !

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.................and more

Take Risk and Take Care,

C. Sean McGee 

iTunes / Amazon / Smashwords / Barnes & Noble / Kobo / Scribd / Issuu / Cultura Livraria /
Support independant art before it cuts its own ear off.

Sunday, October 21, 2018

VIVER - uma vida em verbos

Nascer, respirar, reclamar
Abraçado, nomeado, se-calmar
Andar, correr, cair
Chorar, sofrer, sorrir
Levantar, estudar, consumir
Aprender, se-provar, vomitar
Celebrar, pular, trabalhar
Desfrutar, gastar, afastar
Amar, afundar - amado
Prometer, afogar - viciado
Plantar, cuidar, devotar
Ensinar, orgulhar, ansiar
Acreditar, se cegar, se perder
Esvaziar, envelhecer, esquecer
Amarrar, refletir, meditar
Pendurar, asfixiar, descansar

Take risk and Take Care,

C. Sean McGee

Friday, October 12, 2018

The Gruff - artwork by Azael

The Gruff is a mean spirited psychotic foul mouthed doll. He smokes, he swears, he pisses on flowers, and when he's not flexing his muscles,he's busy doing the only thing that makes him happy, beating the shit out of bullies.

Artwork by Azael (Elcallejon Deldibujo)

Alex and The Gruff Series

Book 1 - Alex and The Gruff: A Tale of Horror
(warning: contains graphic violence and adult themes)

Paperback (6x9) - US$15

Barnes and Noble -

Book 2 - Alkex and The Gruff: Dawn of the Bully Hunter
(young adult Weird Fiction)

Barnes and NOble -

Support Independant Art before it cuts its own ear off

Take Risk and Take Care,

C. Sean McGee

Online Book Stores:

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Wednesday, October 10, 2018


John went to Walmart,
And there he bought a gun.
Then he went to work,
And murdered everyone.

John ₢2018 C. Sean McGee

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Silly Rhymes by C. Sean McGee

WOMAN: a poem, a prayer

My breasts are the ocean,
My cunt is the rising swell.
My lips are the break in the waves,
My kiss an irreversible spell.
My eyes are the moonlight,
My breath is the wrecking gale.
My heart is the distant shore,
My love, a cautionary tale.

I am she, the perilous isle,
The tide, the earth, and the moon.
I am she, the destroyer of man,
Woman and mother too.

Woman: a poem, a prayer ₢ 2018 C. Sean McGee


Little butterfly flaps its wings
A little birdy screams and sings
Her bed is covered in feathers
On the floor, a wedding ring
Little butterfly brought her change
Let her out of an iron cage
Now nothing will ever be the same again
Little birdy better learn to fly

Sex ₢2018 C. Sean McGee


Worship her
Without her, nothing is
Divine woman
Divine womb
Giver and taker of life
Mother Earth
Blood and birth
There are no Gods
There are none higher
Without her, nothing is

Mother ₢2018 C. Sean McGee


a yellow breasted bird
on an old fruit tree
fluttered its wings as it left
what a sight to be seen; for a man such as thee
on the tip of his very last breath
alas nothing grew in the garden again,
not a flower; not even a weed
nothing but a stone, and a wreck of a home
and the roots of an old fruit tree
but a day it would come, when as yellow as the sun, fell a feather from a little bird's breast
for above it did flutter; with no quiver or stutter
where the man and the tree lay at rest
suicide ₢2017 c.seanmcgee


A boy stares at his reflection,
And sees an old man looking back.
"Where did the time go?" he wonders.
And "How did we ever lose track?"
"Is this the same person,
That amounts to wondrous things?"
"How long did we spend dreaming?"
"Is this reflection really as it seems?"
"Who are you old man?"
"I’ve seen you in times before."
"Is this, the face that greets me,
The mask I always wore?"
The old man drops his stare,
And moves towards the door.
The boy he thought he was,
He can recognize no more.

₢2004 C. Sean McGee


Mary was a drunk,
and down on her luck,
But never was Mary a bore.
With a mouth like a gun,
and boy could it run,
She had every man on the floor.

Though her words they did slur,
It would never deter,
Her love for the drink and a tale.
Be it story or rhyme,
A sonnet or line,
She'd go at it hammer and nail.

And it's fair to be said,
That in truth she'd be dead,
Were it not for her gift of the gab.
For her life it was shite,
but the booze made it right,
and her words, they could pick up the tab.

You see Mary she lived with a cunt of a man,
An asshole that no-one could stand.
A bitter old prick,
As crass as was thick,
And who spoke with the back of his hand.

And Mary she wore all the bruises and marks,
On her face, her arms and her neck.
But the look in her eyes,
When she drank or reprised,
If you'd seen it, you'd never forget.

I can't quite describe it,
except only to say,
that no man was ever the same.
The moment they came to take her away,
With noone but Mary to blame.

You see her husband was found,
all bludgeoned and bound,
Floating in a bag in the sea.
And with a pint in her hand,
And too drunk to stand,
Old Mary was ready to plea.

"No contest, your honour,
for every drink,
and every word i have said.
But as for that prick,
I've no shame and no guilt,
In how he ended up dead."

And so she drank her last pint,
With the hangman in sight,
And the rest of us down by the stairs.
And she told us a fable,
The best she was able,
Considering her state of affairs.

And though history would remember,
Her violence and temper,
For us it was hard to forget.
The way she could drink,
and thoughts she did think,
the most remarkable woman I've met.

Mary the Butcher of Salisbury ₢2017 C.SeanMcGee

One Foot in the Grave:

"Why wait?" I said. "Why hesitate? "What good is one day from another?"
You just laughed, and slapped my back;
"That's a good one," you said. "That's a real good one, my brother."
And so we drank to all our worries,
And we drank to all the blues.
And the sun it rose in a miserable light,
As we drank to all of the truths.
The truths we had forgotten,
And those we'd rather forget.
To the ones which proclaimed us a villains,
And to those we owed a great debt.
And so we drank to the end of times,
To love and its inevitable end.
And we stumbled off home in the wee hours of dawn,
Just a prick and his miserable friend.

₢2017  C. Sean McGee


There's a cat on the windowsill
with a rat in its stomach
that had eaten the cheese
that my lover left behind
the day she went away

₢2017  C. Sean McGee


There goes
that girl over there,
Who’s not really here
as she is over there
unbound and unknowing
unwilling to care
mute to your calling
and blind to your stare
see her you will
and by that you will swear
that the girl over here is the girl over there

₢2005   C. Sean McGee


Of everything; and anything
To have ever been, to ever come, and to all which will one day come undone
Of everyone; and anyone
That ever was and will ever be; and to those that came undone.
Of clocks and candles; of time and age
Seamless is the transition; and nary a break in the day
Of ego and name; of pride and shame
On how you fucked, how you looked, and how fast you could run
All of which will either soon or have long since come undone
Of broken hearts and broken toys
And the pieces of which are all scattered on the floor
Of we and they; and of you and I
One of us is bound to come undone
Of love and the courage to suffer and yearn
Let your children leave you, no longer need you; and never return
Of being loved or living alone;
Whether walking on eggshells or the silence that fills up a home
Of being unheard of and forgotten; or of love that grows distant and cold
For all that you gave up or lost; and for that which you never will hold
Of me and my name.

The Art of Letting Go ₢2017 C.SeanMcGee

Green Thumbs?:

Was it something i learned as a boy
A passage the devil had said;
"A rose it will bloom in November and June, but only if you cut off its head."

₢2018   C. Sean McGee


A miserable old prick in a house made of sticks,
and the lady who smoked were a bore;
for both of them sat in the idleest of chat,
on a corner, in the cold, by a door.
One of them coughed, and the other one smiled,
but neither was getting along;
Not a thing to be said, not an inch or a mile,
not a story, a rumour, or song.
It wasn't until the man had been killed,
that the lady who smoked seemed to care;
for his body it lay in the shallowst grave,
on the corner, in the grass, by the stairs.
The nieghbour's complaints and the copper restraints,
and her heels were the worst of it all;
While the body of a man and her fingerprints can,
confirm she was partly at fault.

One Saturday in August ₢2017 C.SeanMcGee


Take me from where I am.
And guide me closer to you.
 Give me the scars that tear out your heart.
 So I can be closer to you.
 Kiss me again and feed me your pain.
 Then haunt me when I am alone.
 Nestled in mind, I hold you inside.
And make your sorrow my own.
As death closes in, I burn deep within.
Taste your breath and caress your face.
Before I should die, please take me aside.
For one last eternal embrace.

₢2001  C. Sean McGee

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Dark Existential Fiction by C.SeanMcGee