Age Nine (poem)

Age Nine Written by Juan Carlos Diaz There exist a memory that serves as wallpaper To the suicide scars of my late teens. Painted upon its surface is a nine Year-old me, seated quietly in The palms of a late summer’s Day watching my older Brother smack a homerun Into the wizened face Of the ninety-four year-old twentieth Century. There my older brother goes, running … Continue reading Age Nine (poem)

Falling In Love With All Of You. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz

Falling In Love With All Of You Written by Juan Carlos Diaz   Paint me with your screams, The walls that confine my Soul. So that I may understand the Dark shad of color that is Your heart. Educate me within schools that Are your wounds, and upon graduation I promise you that I will destroy The very foundation created By the men who hurt … Continue reading Falling In Love With All Of You. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz

Neighborhood Goddess. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz

  Neighborhood Goddess By Juan Carlos Diaz   What is poetry but a brief Glance at the neighborhood Goddess as she sits across From you on the school Bus, a gaping hole, oozing out Her innocence and childhood. My eyes become portals that Open up to oblivion, Swallowing my face. The goddess looks in My direction and sticks her Hands into those portals, Absconding with … Continue reading Neighborhood Goddess. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz

Shrines of War by Juan Carlos Diaz

  Shrines of War Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz     My war laughed at me today It told me not to feed it anymore From the food grown in adolescent Wastelands where shrines for Teenage girls still stand erect Even though they’re now thirty- Something year-old mothers of little Girls whose heartbreaking tendencies Lay dormant on their smiling faces Until awakened by the sound … Continue reading Shrines of War by Juan Carlos Diaz

Studying Life. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz

Studying Life by Juan Carlos Diaz Life can never be studied, As it is breathing heavily Upon your face, for its Features are still blurred In the glare of the anew; Still dripping in the Sliminess of after birth. Let’s wait, however, until Each day lies its head Sleepily upon the Bosom of the past So that we can Be able to determine If life … Continue reading Studying Life. Poem by Juan Carlos Diaz