Confessional Poetry - Hello Poetry

Sep 2021

Graff1980

You will be diminished
as others finish
life’s strange race,
as living leaves you
in last place,
and you face
a world without them.

You will pull
faded photos from your mind.
Slightly distorted mental movies
that have been rewritten by time
will become bittersweet reruns.
Lies will soften or harden
previous facts
as you try to look back
to the past.

You will lose loved ones
over and over until
you no longer feel
an inkling of their essence.

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 793

I haven’t been
working on finding
all the answers.

I’ve been questing
for the best questions,
pursuing strange obsessions,
seeking the sparks
that will start
different parts
of poetical proclamations,
teasing out
certain doubts
to understand clearly
that I am not nearly
smart enough to know,
but I am bright
enough to grow.

When my heart
lights up and glows
it’s one hell of a show.

All splendid sparkles
and black holes,
all gray dusty roads
and sharp rocks
that pierce flesh.

Inside, I hold more
than just myself.
I am an infinitude
of lies and truths,
of words I use
to gift all of you
brand new and pre-used
perspectives that amuse
and inform.

I am the fractional form
of past identities
and future possibilities,
a projection part
hopeful and cynical,
a self-created symbol
that you will
eventually interpret
through the lens
of how you feel.

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 792

Sunday morning is a spiral
of dimmed lights
and despairing shadows,
of stairways to nothing
that dance in the distance
and turn around to find
time no longer binds
this strange and tired mind.

It is a body of fatigue,
so tired that it turns blind,
unable fathom
what was once
wondrously divine.

Windows no longer open to
a whole wide world
that I want to view,
but are closed,
painted black
with spider web
thin cracks
that let less than
infinitesimal light in.

Hope is made for forgetting,
until a long sleep
restores my stores
of optimism and inspiration
allowing poetic explorations,
as the windows open
to finally let more light in
and the stairways shift
restructuring themselves
to new realities
of delightfully
exciting possibilities.

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled

The flame of madness
cracked and expanded,
holds hearts unplanted,
soil sick with slick
mind worms that take
turns gnawing through
the muck and the goop,
and the rotting wood to,
seeing moods shift from
angry, sad, then numb
to become all spent up
without any passions left.

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 790

Do not let me
be vexed by
exemplary
poetry.

Cause I am
lyrically
fantastic,
like other
lexical lovers,
and word writing
art brothers.

I love the
sweet
syllabic
ecstasy
of channeling
language
for my own
enjoyment.

It is pure
play
and self-pleasuring,
as I go one
measuring
my verbal dexterity
in combination
with clarity.

There is
a sad disparity
in what I write
and what gets through
to the masses who
find my art
hard to digest.

It is a self-serving mess
in which I express
an observance
of the madness
of merely writing
and not expecting
others to grasp
half of it.

#writing #poetry #poem

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 789

The sun
no longer
streaks the sky
but seeks to die
as I try not to cry.

I am too tired
to create
anything I deem
great.

Over dependent
on stimulants
to wake up to
a creative vision.

Brain fogged
to the point of
being a rotting log
wasting space,
just waiting
to decay.

In my
fatigued state
there is a fear
I may never make
decent art again.

But I rest
and get up
to type out
something
beyond my doubts.

One poem,
the first of
the week,
a stumbling piece,
not my best
but a relief.

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 787

I’m so deluded
cuz I self-secluded,
claimed I wasn't included,
but I avoided the party.

I was the ghost only partly here,
whining about my fear
of dying alone
when I stayed at home
on purpose.

I'm the one that didn't call
friends or family at all.
Guess, I was too afraid
to get on the ball and fall,
better to choose to be by myself
than be rejected by everyone else.

Sep 2021

SophiaAtlas

Kissing

Normal people kissing:
Sensual
Butterflies in your stomach
You're the only two people in the world

People with glasses kissing:
Clink
Clank
Ok let's take them off
Wait, where'd you go?
You feel cold
Oh, that's a lamp.

#kissing #glasses #struggles

Sep 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 785

**** your high society
and your sense of propriety.
It violates human decency,
suffocating what's unique in me.

So, I prefer the freaks.
There is beauty
in the scars underneath,
the experiences that free
true artistry and empathy.

I don't behave properly
and could never be that stodgy,
dodgy trickster that tries to
live up to a standard no one fits in.
I'll take the stew of life and mix in
different perspectives,
cuz I'm not made for
your standard objections,
or corporate objectives.

Rules and norms are always changing
relatively rearranging
base on social standings
and mood fluctuations;
So, I will pass on all of that.

It is better to know up front
that I don’t fit in,
so there’s no way I can win.
Especially when,
I can't be classified as a normal guy.

Hell, I don't know why
someone would even try.

Aug 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 781

I dream of all the poetry
the world has written for me,
all the visions that I see
of sweet swelling glory.

A fountain of eternal stories,
a well of rushing water
ready to run over
and wash away
all the filth of despair
and give me something
for which I can care.

Green leaves over there
grand stars in the sky,
grey clouds fill the air
whilst kind hearts make me cry.

When I am well rested,
my spirit is invested
in all that surrounds,
all those sights and sounds,
a fabulous parade
of colors and shades.

In love and heartbreak,
I write what I take,
think, and explore
philosophies
and sights I adore.

Bursting at the seams,
crying out “I want more.”
There is always
something beautiful
just beyond the evening’s yawn
before and after
all of my dreams are gone.

Aug 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 779

Guilty pleasures lick skin
pressing in confessing sins
that aren’t that bad.
In fact, in the past
those where the best
pleasure I ever had.

Now they lay
behind me
as I walk away,
every step
another day
to forget
the laughing corpses
that paint my path
of painful yesterdays.

The ****** bones
of this broken lunatic
howling back at
other fanatics,
as the circus of
the ****** I love
just clowns around town
for a little bit.

Memories burn before me,
dancing clouds of smoke
as ashes aspire to fly higher,
leaving behind burnt offerings
of all those silly passing things.

Pleasure is partly pursued
by all the body parts
I never used, just viewed
and stored for some
later date.

With a flick of my fast wrist
I purge myself of all of this
frustration, leaking my lust
in tiny but thick droplets
and fall asleep cont.
on my sticky sheets.

Aug 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 778

Today is dull gray
with dark shades
that portend
bitter ends,
as I keep yelling, telling
humans what’s coming.

Instead, of people listening,
I get the busted lip
of a trusted friend
trying to **** in
and help again.

Why should I
be surprised
when I get
a back hand
and black eyes
from those guys
whom I'm trying to save.

Aug 2021

Graff1980

Untitled 773

In fear of death
toxic products
sell themselves.

The landscape becomes
a graveyard of
rusted metal
and worn-out tires
surrounded by
green growth,
gray gravel roads,
and massive
towers with long
cylindrical tubes
that obscure the
heavenly scenery.

Boundaries are cornered by
fields of unfulfilled
corny potential
and metal fences
that gives the pretense
of security.

Twisted tangles of tiny blue flowers
are pursued by the perfect pollinator
as black birds perch precariously
on long stalks of wheat swaying in
the wind till the bird takes off again,

while a sassy sweat bee
keeps stalking me
cuz, I am super sweet.