Candide Poems | Examples

Matthew Songs

"Matthew Songs"

they sing their Matthew songs to me
Heaven’s hold is paved by stains ingrained 
in glory dream streets of burnished gold
angels crowned by The shining nebulous, like poker cards fold

their heads bowed low to a mystery risen riding clouds 
that fly across an empyreal chariot sky
all shades of intermittent blistering blue, 
their memories now far away long gone

deliverance is a waited negotiation
heavy between two ancient warring souls,
twin flames – God,
and the one non-absolute soul that went wrong

both cry out in pain
both sing their siren songs


Candide Diderot. ‘25






Matthew, Mark, Luke & John

Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms

“Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms” 

All the promises under the Sun
could never buy time, and 
all that glistens on a wrist in a heartbeat succombs

peels away the romance 
like tinfoil scraps, wrapped and cutting like razors
into the skin of what matters most

liked barbed wire 
around a wrist bleeding
glistening golden brands like some kind of reigning crown

the so-called pulse of keeping up with the J’s
will never deliver the most precious intangible, 
it burns inside out unseen

underneath the bitumen 
the buried truth blooms
strange journeys crawl 

and their animals released 
from the cage, 
eventually, 

stampede;

sacrifices are made. 



Candide Diderot. ‘25

The Scent of Eden

"The Scent of Eden"

Up the road I walked
as if in some golden hazy dream
and along the road an honour guard 
to the left of me, of red-ripe apple trees

I walked bare feet 

into that lush abundance 
of waving dark forest green 
the scent of mystery, fresh petrichor
wet leaves underneath my soul

moistly called me in, to believe

some kind of beckoning 
to unprocessed novel new beginnings
I plucked the largest I could find, as always 
stretching too far above me

then, in my hands 
I raised it to my rosy lips
before I took it fully in, my over-soul 
breathed its knowledge o’er me like a twin

wisdom, its gilded giddy perfume

the scent of Eden,

sings



Candide Diderot. ‘25

Sentences

"Sentences"

Experience comes at a cost 
money is not the currency
the weight of useless titles
are now disgarded avidly

the sun 

tastes expensive here
like the stigma of saffron; 
I open my palms to the eyes 
of some strange royal God

who pretends not to hear me

love and life 
slip through the fingers
like sand 
the hourglass is turned upside down

a challenge

challenges now shed like worn out novels
unwritten words slipping silently 
between the sheets like expert lovers warmly known, 
sensuously undressing pages until they’re naked

a kiss 

I turn my head in this dream
I’m not looking for clocks
and as I glance back 
ahead of me I see my soul 

accepted

slip silently out of me 
like this body is empty tupperware
and what lies behind me 
hollow and unnessary 

melting away
into you 
between the lengthy 
unspoken sentences


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Blooming

"Blooming" 

I think it’s distracting-

it soothes Her
the other says,
“poems, 
are something alien”

to the one reading ;

yet, it soothes Her; 

the world is wide open
in all of these moments, 
like a split seedling,
somehow, taking all of it in

dying
regeneration
blooming;

rising


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Exit music for a bad movie

"Exit music for a bad movie"

that shining kingdom
waits and watches 
numbed now to nightmares
its falling cuckold leaders 
deliver fools gold 
hungry homeless open palms receive 
broken promises overflowing
forgotten hymns and collection plates 
souls are worth blood in buried pain 
borders are drawn all are caged
the marriages not made in heaven
shelved for another day


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Goldfish

"Goldfish"

The left said we weren’t right
we were catscradles 
lost and over-stitched in it all

The right said we were goldfish
in an over-crowded drowning bowl
fed on pronouns and dreams of an equal world

poetry skewered our lives 
with the beauty of it all
but we were oblivious 

to what was really 
calling

Candide Diderot. ‘25

black feathers

"black feathers" 

black feathers
I followed along the path
white feathers absent
dissolved like melted snow

black as ash
I touched them
and wrote their worth
as ink along my stoney walls

their stories like stains
ingrained for all
black feathers
like tears the words do reign

such strange royals

they kneel like poets
upon soft minds, and placed 
like unblessed sacraments for curse 
upon their harsh tongues for verse

they all fall
in time
black feathers
at the feet of none



Candide Diderot. ‘25

Departure

"Departure"

In the majestic curves of galactic arms
we choose to dissolve all war and hate
we venture forth fast away from primeval captivity 
into the unknown welcoming cardiomegaly of It

what waits like Kaa wrapped around our scorched fate
beckoning our inner worlds like glowing orbs
we are swallowed into the burning crystal ball 
Its starry gates open like god-like jaws

evolving like Paleolithic tadpoles old stone age 
lacking tales to execrate all the obdurate
their time will come when all is far too late
and their karma is to remain to do it all again

fortune’s for the brave
freedom's for the few
we choose It like The Chosen do
to turn our backs on all that human hate

we raise our minds
we raise our eyes
our heart's electric 
sending morse code messages

we begin to watch 
the open skies of Blue
for forgotten arrivals 
seen through moving clouds obscured


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Magdalenes and Eves

"Magdalenes and Eves"

Pin the tale on the donkey
there’s something in the way She moves
a harlot by any other name, pages of 
Magdalenes and Eves

the ruin of every good world of righteous man 
opened doors and gates to new universal territories 
before and always will 
and freedom was still kept tight 

before the flood birthed doves and peace 
She stood for what She was worth
bartered, maligned and misunderstood
but a vessel just the same as a floating ark

the screams of newborns doused in innocence 
quiet all the senseless noise and call forth 
the reason for Her thorny existence -
without the harlot there is no life at all;

a rose by any other name
except that;

all Gods are birthed 
from a Woman
and that God is found 
within the runes


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Tomorrow Already Gone

“Tomorrow Already Gone" 

Tomorrow 
already gone
these stories are for you
you will follow me
before too long 
Tomorow 
already gone



Candide Diderot. ‘25 
Love is Love is Love
lux vitae



"She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire."

cor meum

"cor meum"

Within the end of "IT" all
no matter gender, cause, colour, creed,
place in life, entitled or without title,
healthy or diseased, or
the choice of who we are,
who we lay in life with and 
Love –  
yet must never harm a child -

when that time comes,
water in the blood
blood in the water,
there will be great misspellings 
of misread meanings 
the talking in tongues 
of minds in idle 
treading water
with all 
the lost and found
bemoaning 
vaccuous ghostings
and small trolls time wasting
the Woolfish hours in small ponds
on great tidal waves of walls,
the message, poetically 
is clearly spelt – 

within the End 
of IT all, 
Love is Love is Love

perfectum imperfectum
immaculatum cor meum

in omnibus 

arcanum penetrabile
gemma Christi

the decoded glistening read jewel 
found in that dark place
embedded in every heart

Love is Love is Love
then, as One
cor meum 

One has won 



Candide Diderot. ‘25

ragazzino salta

“ragazzino salta” 

face to the wall
reading poetry 
slingshot spitballs

little jack horner
sat in his quiet corner
once upon a time

ragazzino salta
your sorry muse, old ‘been,
your lawless circus,

never mine.


Candide Diderot. ‘25

Americano

"Americano"

filter-dripped
watered down
weak coffee

artificial

the mood 
steaming diluted
swings lower, unfilling;

the wanting
lusciously dark
hot to the tongue

more rapid 
complex in richness 
animated 

scalding and sharp

Expresso
piercing arrow 
shoots straight to the heart.



Candide Diderot. ‘25

Reverse Cyrano

“Reverse Cyrano” 

Reverse Cyrano 
new wave poetry 
straddles the ruins

milked
with two sugars
dark Tea dreams

red leaves laquer 
the vain roadmaps 
that stain the ingrained

with pommegranate poetry
the bejewelled heart 
sweet and tart 

and thick 
skinned
sliced and skewered

each granate 
a sparkling 
hidden gem

within the ruby 
words written 
riding astride those worlds 

like wolves 
in those comforting 
dicomforting whispering woods

for Cyrano reversed 
so easily contracted
a hidden god and a poet 

that lost lovers 
may find submerged 
in disoriented time adrift,

eyes open-wide undestracted,

the ravenous misunderstood unmissed.



Candide Diderot ‘25

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