Best Diderot Poems

Have you ever pondered
shadows are made of 
softness, they are not 
hard surfaced like 
those of us existing 
outside of the white noise

unable to grasp -

the invisible, 
that speak meaning to us, 
whispering their sagacious platitudes,
we see them briefly, then, 
they disappear into the cracks...

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Existentially you think
you know me 
having eaten a slice 
of my mind 
delicious you think
the bubbling froth 
of this poetry
peppered with sprinkles
of rising undertones 
the sugar depth charged
unstirred, yet 
touch the lip of my cup
you’d feel the burn 
the tongue means to speak
unhoneyed
the kiss stings...

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"Major Love"


My dear Major Love, 

are You following me yet?
all the sunrising storms read?
soliloquys too many to mention
my very brave Major Love

You’ll find me yet
tomorrow 
is never too late
in this dreamscape

it won’t be the Love 
that everyone suspects
it commenced inside and yet
You made it out...

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“The Unknown”


Something beautiful in the ugly of it all
raised its hand in the classroom 
and asked, 

is that all?

The Reader considered it all. 
Silently. 

Perhaps there is Life 
on Mars after all. 
Safely removed from the 
pages of this world. 

Who in their right mind
would...

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"All Hail"

Within the sky of blue,
embedded liked jewels
the many hidden colours,
the truest hues
arrive in storms,
where all the hail
like eyes falling
from the vaults
of heaven
melt bad dreams,
and the better,
lost in cloudy vision,
are drawn back in
and up again -
all hail 
the Inclement,
and their 
cloudy whethers



Candide Diderot. ‘24



...

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You could look for me forever
in the well of words that 
float or drown in your mind
and I’d be forever 
your reflection 
lapping at your fingers
inky love rippling, 
teasing and intangible,
just a little out of reach,
like a fountain,
the sweet condition
slow burn, 
bubbling up,
you feeling 
the...

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When your heart 
corresponds 
with your mind,
then, give it a shot,
you write 
back to me

what expressions 
you so badly 
need 
to bleed;

the characterisation 
of letters 
are alphabet soup 
to me, child's play,
peeling tattoos 
like bells ringing 
over a tongue 
not speaking,

I swallow words
hungrily 

then I...

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"That Place"

In that place where you were abandoned,
that place, they never thought, you’d come back from, 
in that place where it is believed nothing grows 
in the long night’s tortured darkness, deep down, well,   
a spark lit something quite quiet, far removed and...

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"Cocoon"

They say...
a New World 
traces over the old,
leaving the unaware,
erased, far behind 

the old unaware, 
left far behind,
crawls the walls
in its web of lies
spinning suspect 
strings of silk 
in the air

glistening diamond nets
slick and sticky with the sense 
of capturing a life 
drowning in teardrops
that...

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What worth am I

in all this madness
what worth are you
in the depths 
of all this sadness

there, 
see the flight path 
to elevation 
inside the feels; 

inside the fields
of darkness 
spring wells of 
orbs popping light

the half-stride
of trying phantoms
planting seeds, 
half-baked poetry

running 
through the veins 
the...

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There was trouble written all over her
like a treasure map, gold buried deep
between the missing ampersands 
where to begin, 

X marks the spot

Y chromosones
like quicksand YX
rolled up, a necessary
reoccurring addiction
sage smoked slowly

then fed to the sharks 

gold buried deep
between the missing 
ampersands
the better treasure 
hidden

XX...

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"Somewhere Safe Little Ghost, in your Mirrors"

You asked me, 
what happens when we go -
then what next?
I replied to you, 

“God, only knows, little ghost”.

You asked me,
“When you visit, after you go -
how will I know you’re there?’
I replied to you, 

“Look for me 
in...

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We exist in space and time 
invisible, unseen for who we
truly are exchanging 
words for thoughts
never face-to-face
but touching just the same
vitriol tossed with the sweetness
fair barter for some form 
of kind heaven exchanging 
inclement weather
to the vestries of 
each others’ 
netherworlds 
divesting 
tar and feathers



Candide...

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"Treasure Box"

The etymologist considered "themselves" singular;

like a butterfly collector they pulled the pincushion 
out from the treasure box and proceeded to capture words
pinning them to every wall, they felt a certain kind release,
voodoo prayers ran through their mind subliminally, 
the agony of adjectives and verbs...

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The unpopular 
express 
their popular strings
to the garrison, contained
within 
safe boundaries, there,
their thoughts 
pirouetting words 
hung, 
the black beetles 
shine 
like exotic 
fresh water 
pearls strung 
waving like 
green peas shelled 
nonchalantly cast 
into boiling pots 
not of their own making 
in the soup of...

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