I Waited for November (dVerse) Audio

Painting by Edward William Cooke, Venice, A November Evening in the Lagoon (1859)

I waited

She said this was the safest place

It was 1800 hours and I felt the sadness engulf me

As I looked on past the sunset

Blank with guilt

I waited

And I waited

And I waited for her

Days came

And they went

The sun shifted

And it bent

I talked to the gods

Bowed my head hopeful this would be rectified if I repent

But the water

Froze still

And the quiet consumed me

And I knew

She was gone


I waited

OCD (Poetry)

I need a hospital to sooth my broken lows

Free me

While my OCD has me counting



Since 1963

And they lied to me

So I shower



And over

And over again

And I’m well aware

That I’m fckin’ weird

I am a complete waist

Stay with me

While I live inside this twisted place


Closed in a world of what’s to be

Can’t you see it’s me in the distance

Blank with resistance

Hard to tame

Sensations knows my name from past games

Nowhere to hide

Pain is greedy and the heart is needy

Beauty is all over me

Social anxiety

Thoughts lie to me

The truth and its reality

Pain shared is pain lessened

Living in the lesson

Trapped in my mind

Hiding from my own behind

Because it’s time that searches for me

I allowed the dark to creep into my rain

Because I can’t sustain without at least a little pain

My fish died but I’m still alive

Intubation (Re-Titled)

Darkness melted into my pain
One eye open to the sun
And my back to the moon
The earth whispers a calm
Casualties roam freely in wounded pastures
Graze memory

Seeds grow thick

And heavy

Till tears grew branches
And wrapped themselves
Into open wounds

And breathing

Became difficult

Mathematics (Poetry)

Mathematical division


Hard for me to cum


Not so ready for this lust

Fully bloom

Petty arguments high alert


Need to put some distance between this forest


Dialogue not complex enough


Feel all alone in this room


Costume not heavy enough


Tryna’ find some happy


So I move silently through this turmoil

Lets conclude

Mathematical division


Hard for me to cum


Way Side (Written for dVerse Poets)

The night was lost

Drowning in this noise 

Aiming to lose this fight

Lost in the dark of sight

Can’t make out what’s wrong with the right

I passed Sally from 21st and 7th Ave.

There was nothing funny in this world can’t muster up a laugh

Henry and Veronica moved pass me slow and tried to graze my eyes

So I kept walking and talking to the ground

Somebody’s daughter was lost never to be found

Buried in these streets

The hustle and bustle of New York night left me blank in thought

I can’t hear my thoughts

But they whispers to me bad words 

And beat me in my dreams

And reminds me what’s wrong with this night

That I’m mangled with these streets can’t win this fight

And I can’t keep sharing my whiskey with Henry and Veronica only makes things risky for a drought

And I howl mamma’s favorite 70’s song to the wind and tell New York traffic my woes

I give pedestrians the blues just for show

I can’t wake myself


This life takes too long

And reminds me

I’ve been left by the wayside


Hands (Poetry)

He had hands like magnets on my skin

Sending pulsations tunneled imagination was a combination

That serenaded my porcelain 

There was something in his gaze

And not even a short paraphrase could describe this mans hands

They weren’t  like typing hands but sexy chiseled

His energy was so powerful it turned my storm into a drizzle

I’m telling you this man had hands like magnets

Sending sensations in me so deep they left fragments

I know it sounds crazy


You didn’t feel his hands!

There was something that oooozzzed from him like a man

Evidence by the incense flowing from his sweat glands

And every drop had the purest destination it would land

He entered with a whisper and gently transitioned to a command

He spoke in arabic and taught me the language so that I could understand

Funny thing…

I gathered all this information even before I felt his hands

‘Cause that’s what women do

Investigative reporters

So much better than Nancy Drew

We’ll be home cooking dinner and at the same time watching you

His hands were so powerful they split Adams and made me two

Its been three weeks now and I’m still collecting his residue

I go to church on Sunday to praise God for making not only one hand

But 2

I know it sounds crazy


You didn’t feel his hands!

This mans hands came already framed

He had hair so beautiful every lock had its own name

If I were blind his hands would have felt me a story

He took me on this journey

From 19 to 40

From disgrace to glory

From a dark night to a bright morning

There is power in a touch

From the second he graced that room

I swear I felt his rush

There is power in a touch 

I know it means nothing to you

But to me it meant much

So I ran home after the poetry slam and listened to the best of Kem

And naturally I wrote a poem about him

This man had hands like magnets that rotated themselves on my blades

He was like a glade plug-in that lingers

Leaves imprints but never fades

It was his prolonged rhyme

And his clock like broken hand

But still made time against me

Made time against me

Made time against me

Made time against me

Renamed – Trauma (Audio Poetry)

It was a thousand breaths I took
To scale a shaken nook
That withered my spirit
Every nerve in me could hear it
No words
Not even the gods could sear it
The brokenness that transmitted through my spine
And grew
Locs wrapped around my veins like vines
It was a mangled twist
That spew curse words between these lips
That left bruises in the seams of my hips
No one knew the dangers that formed from this riff
I’m still confused and somewhat amused by
This Trauma

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Flannel with Faith

Embracing imperfection with faith, flannel, & fresh air

Andrea "Drea" Diaz

"In this life or the next...I will find you" Monique [Last name redacted] was the average runaway child from an evil organization who constantly wiped away her past life. One day, her fate intertwined with that of Lee von Solari which led her to live out an extraordinary life on a world at the edge of the milky way galaxy. Soon she would have adventures while piecing back her fragmented memories only to discover that some of them were not her own. In a land vastly known for housing the "rejects" of other worlds, Monique uncovers the makings of Eridelium.



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