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 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
eileen
I met a stranger today
said he missed me
I've been away
for months
but I don't know remember his name

I put a pause on real life
just to feel stuck inside my own mind

How I miss you dearly
nobody will ever miss me
like I do

everyone forgets too soon
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Little Wren
Autumn blows against winter,
The in-betweens of transition.
The underskirts of gold and ruby
Shedding from the Earth and skies
The woods, half-bare, half unguarded,
Almost fully vulnerable
To the terminal winter.

Some deciduous trees hold on
To summer's carbon,
Leaves clinging to the naked buds--
They call it marcescent,
Unable to abscise completely
Even when the rest of the forest
Has moved on

Left dried and clutching
Holding on all winter,
Through the biting frost
Against howling nights
When the world is dark and lifeless.
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Star BG
I Choose
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Star BG
I shall choose to romp around, in a playground of love.
Where heart sprouts etheric wings to fly.
Where breath intermingles with rays of sun.

I shall choose to expand, in the playground of earth.
Where heart opens to sing in harmony.
Where breath carries wisdom to bond with self.

I shall choose to dance with grace in playground of love.
Where heart beats with tempos grand.
Where breath tickles lungs to awaken dreams.

Yes I shall choose to celebrate on earths playground
The place I came to explore, before returning home.
Saw the word choose and felt like using it in a poem.
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Napolis
We find
each other
not in
the calendar
of days
or a tiding
of waves.

you and I.


instead
we are
glimpses
to one
another,

echoes of
smiles
given
long
ago.

a childhood
memory
perhaps.

a cookie
shared
over giggles
at a
third
grade
lunch table.

the scribbling
of phone
numbers
on a
warn junior high
notebook.

that is
why
I know
you here.

we are
not
new.

we are
similar
places
to one
another.

like the
humming
bird,

that hovers
over a
summer flower
for a
moment,

lands
and then
is gone.

to never
forget
that one
flower

again.

but to
always
dream

of that

brief moment

when the

two were

one in life.
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Napolis
The bleeding

to white

and all

that may

come.


the unfeeling

of everything

I have

come to

hold dearly

in my most

inner being.


somehow

I know

in that

darken

place.


you will

still

find me

there.


and you

will calm

my spirit,


and paint

my sky,


and fall

like a

mid-winters

night

dream

over me


for eternity's

slumber.


and I

will catch

your sorrow,


and shelter

your pain,


and not

let a

broken

heart

take one

moment

from you.


true in

spirit

you

and I.


and the

falling

of clouds

will surround

us,


and the

crying of

seasons

lost will

echo in

our bones.


and in

our final

moment,


only truth will

be seen

in our

eyes

.
and only

love

will color

our sky.
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Pagan Paul
.
The hypotenuse stretched
as far as the eye could see,
across a vast lateral plain
an horizon mathematically perfect.
And yet …
In the main square of the hypotenuse
the town crier bellowed out tidings.
The Triangle Triumvirate was unstable,
the discovery, nay re-discovery,
of the Mystery, the most horrific of Mysteries,
the Mystery of the missing
Fourth-Side.

Dweeb was a box standard barbarian.
Quick to anger, slow of wit.
Like last night at dinner.
He had Three potatoes, his sister had Four.
He shouted and thumped the table,
his angry voice expunging his ire.
Then his sister had explained,
to calm and reassure him.
Three was more than Four
because it had Five letters in it.
And Five is more than Four.
He thought about his axe,
then about his abacus,
and then he ate his spuds.

The Fourth-Side drifted in spacial isolation.
Of course now it wasn't a Side.
Being attached to nothing, it was just a line,
but it had some tricks.
It could coil and curl itself
to form rude words in joined up writing.
It floated on reminiscing,
about the **** angles it had made
with all its previous adjacent lovers.
The memory caused spasms
and it formed into a rude word
that should never ever be written down.

Teena, Dweeb's sister, vomited.
She had kissed a puppy,
and was being sick in the morning,
was she pregnant?
But, it was never a puppy, always a stork.
He mum had told her, warned her
'never kiss an errant stalk'.
Her mum died of the pox, whatever that is.
Something clicked in her head.
Oh! Stork and stalk!
Well they do sound the same,
especially in a harsh barbarian accent.
But the puppy had sneezed
as she had kissed it goodnight.
She thought about her axe.
And then she threw up again.


Equations to be solved #7
Vlad the Impaler was a Barbarian
+
Vlad the Impaler was a Libra
=
Dracula was a Librarian?



Right Angle was worried.
Duly so.
If the Fourth-Side Mystery was solved
he'd have three other Right Angles to deal with,
instead of a sixty and a thirty.
The Triangle Triumvirate would cease.
An intense Quadrilateral Mexican stand-off
would ruffle his perfect two-seventy external.
He had to divert attention away,
far, far away, from the Fourth-Side.
By Jove he had it! Bingo!
Let them try to solve
the Mystery of
The Back-Side.

Dweeb loved winding up his sister.
So he hid her puppy in a box.
But now he was worried.
Was the puppy still alive?
Or dead? Or both?
This may sound like a ****** stupid question
but where did that last thought come from?
Yes!
Yes what?
Yes, it was a ****** stupid question!

Teena though it very strange.
When she rang the dinner Triangle
the cat sat on the mat,
Salivating!
Curiouser and curiouser.
Conditioned response or learnt behaviour?
Teena dismissed the thought line,
she didn't ask ****** stupid questions.

It had no idea
about its status as a Mystery.
The Fourth-Side has issues.
Complicated issues.
It had somehow conspired
to tie itself in a knot.
And spacial isolation had become crowded.
Missing links everywhere, the sofa of time,
excommunicated integers, 1970's wallpaper,
it all floated about in spacial isolation.
Above all Fourth-Side was intensely agitated.
Couldn't anyone quieten that yapping puppy?




© Pagan Paul (06/11/18)
.
My psychedelic washing machine mind on spin cycle!

https://hellopoetry.com/collection/29495/strange-world/
.
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