Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Colm
Coffee so cold that it cuts through the dark like the moonlit rays’ mere hours before
The feeling of fog which should not last and could not for long  
No song for this, bask in quietness
For awakenings upon do not belong
Upon awakening
 Nov 2018 Me Díaz
Napolis
And in the
pieces of
your day
do you
ever read
my poems
to yourself
out loud,

or send a
thought
in open
cloud sky
my way,

do you
feel the
ever so
light change
of season
in your life.

where now you
sense,

by reading these
poems there
is now something
different in
your world,

perhaps a
smile unexpectedly
or a
giggle that
you can't
figure out
why,

or you
see a
place that
you have seen
a thousand
times before,

but somehow
today it somehow
looks differently.

these are
the pieces of
you I now
share and
shape these
words upon
this paper.

and because of
that I am wiser
still,

and also quieter
in thought.

at the
moment that
one day I
might hear
your heartbeat
near.

and  we
might sit
across a
table,

for a cup of
coffee or
two.
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
ryn
Keep Me Safe
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
ryn
Keep me safe.

Keep me unseen
from eyes that ask incessantly.

Keep me from questions
with answers that reveal too much.

Keep me dignified.
Keep me filled what little I have left.

Keep me sane.
Keep me the same.
Keep me collected.


Keep me close.
Keep me comforted in my sleep.

Keep me from harm.
From the monsters under my bed.
From the demons in my head.


Keep me safe...
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
Lawrence Hall
Simon and Schuster assure me that I
Will be consumed by J. R. Ward’s new book
But I am neither steak nor apple pie
And probably would be difficult to cook
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

My vanity publications are available on amazon.com as bits of dead tree and on Kindle:  The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
eileen
Samael ♞
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
eileen
tired of playing games
you better disappear

I've got spiders
crawling up neck

venom inside my veins

can't believe I'm friends
with the Antichrist

roaming the realm of the dead
my lungs are vanishing

It's bad
She's bad
we're bad

I know
he knows

I've reached the bottomless pit
lost in paradise
beside my angel of death
 Oct 2018 Me Díaz
Colm
What depths could I describe?
What sights have you not already seen?
What could I possibly tell you that you haven’t already heard from the whispering trees?
The warmth of summer
The shimmering gleam of the frigid stars
With stream water splashing about your feet
What cooling sensations could I possibly bring
To a heart such as yours  
On warm nights such as these
Cool is not always arrogant.
Next page