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 Oct 2019
Graff1980
I pick apart
the scraps
and shards
of shattered hearts.

I clean the
bleached bones,
sweep the
stained sidewalks
that ragged strangers
call home,
where they
sleep alone
or together
in whatever
good or bad
weather
they are
dealing with.

I read the words
till my red eyes
dry up and burn
with the tension
of spending
too much time
on this
disjointing
internet
system,
this connected
form of
isolation.

I fight
a lazy battle
to find the
right way
to say
something
meaningful.

It is just
spurts of dust
to connect us.
Not much
of the junk
I write
at night
is viable
or will hold up
to the light
of space and time.

But, still I write.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
I got no swag,
just a split spine
that sits in a bag,
that I drag
everywhere
I go.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
Here is a truth
when I do
what I do,
by not reaching out
to the few who
used to care
to stop and share
their time
and stuff,

then why should I
expect
when I get
back to myself
that they
or anyone else
would give
this ghost
any notice
at all?
I have no use
For the military Boys
Prancing around
With their nuclear toys.

I have no use
For the heads of state
Ignoring the climate
‘Til it’s too late.

I have no use
For Supreme Court Judges
Bending the law
To their personal grudges.

I have no use
For the lovers of Trump
I have a nice lake
Into which they can jump.

I have no use
For the trolls I attract
Attack all you want
I’ve never yet cracked.
             ljm
I've never been trolled, but I'm sure my time will come.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
Around here
they drink
**** yellow beer
that foams
at the top,
and they
don’t know when
they should stop.
So, after
those drinks and
a few shots
they drop.

Head spinning
ready for vomiting
cause they weren’t using
any common sense.
  
Around here
the sports channel
is always playing,
and people
are always praying
for their team
to take
the next game
straight to
the finals
and win
whatever
championship
they are
playing for.

Around here
smart mouths
come on
the faces of
morons,
and they
run faster
then anyone
can catch on.

Around here
they are all impulse
pleasure seeking,
no deep thinking,
just pushing
straight to the edge
and barely
stepping back again,
or finally giving in
and falling
all the way down
into the brown mound
of ground
the dig graver
left for them.

Around here
I live in a desert
seeking wiser sages
who long to
paint prose
on all the web pages,
and spread compassion
all over the place,

but it all falls
on deaf ears
around here.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
The bar is split in to two distinct moods.
One half is red bricks and well treated
water resistant wood
with soft lighting that aches for some
classical piano and violin instrumental.

The other half is a metal wall with
wonderful works of  
abstract art scattered on it,
small canvasses that explode in
strange color arrangements
perfect for the throaty blues muse
who pours her heart out
in a variety of well written tunes.

Lightly tanned hands
move in a slow dance
as long brown shimmering strands
are swung around to the sound
of the band’s soft collaborative movements.

Her fingers start snapping
while one entranced patron sits tapping
out similar rhythms.

An ear-piercing projection
of solid soulful vocalization
breaks the young man’s enchantment
as he is startled to the point of
almost falling out of his chair.

A couple of tunes later
she bends towards
more eclectic electric cords
blending in with
her family companions
as she finishes the night
with a sweet set of
awesome songs
the thinning crowd loves.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
I got a list of long ago
mistakes I made
that I can’t let go,
and I know
they made me who
I am,
but *******

I could use a flash back.
I could use a rewrite.
I could use a do over.
Can I get one tonight?

Got a handful of
people that I loved
who will not
be coming back from
the other side
of that make believe
afterlife.

I could use a flash back.
I could use a rewrite.
I could use a do over.
Can I get one tonight?

Not enough fingers and toes
to count all of those
mistakes that take
and shake me from
my quiet repose.
I hate all of those
bad decisions,
but I am in
no position
to revisit
and fix them.

I could use a flash back.
I could use a rewrite.
I could use a do over.
Can I get one tonight?

I won’t get a flash back.
I won’t get a rewrite.
I won’t get a do over
tonight,
so, I need to just
get one with my
little life.
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
I want to be fit,
but ****
I love
chocolate.

I want to be ripped
but ****
that donut
is so delicious.

I want to be cut
but I love the
pizza hut.

I want to be ****
but the Chinese
buffet just gets me.

I want to be healthy
and if it wasn’t for
junk food
I would be.

I got the gym **** down
it is the food that hurts me.
 Oct 2019
South-by-Southwest
.


Don't turn around to see me

Don't telephone

or leave any text messages


Don't send any poems

dedicating your affection

Reminding me of our interconnection


I leave all the keys to your heart

In the absence of my smiles

When all the words have crumbled


After what the angels take away

They always leave the words

That I stumble over in the dark


Now looking into eyes of no return

I feel the ache , the burn

Seems in love I never learn





and the dying soldier said ,"I smell bread"
 Oct 2019
Edmund black
I am

Waiting

In earnest

To see what comes next



I am

Entrenched

Almost rigid

As the urge rises


I am

Uncertain

Desperately seeking

Yet, I see no end to where I am



I am

Luckily lucky

Forevermore grateful

Her body’s poetry keeps me grounded


I am

Yet,

Stronger

Slowly smiles

You think I could be the one


I am

Imperfectly perfect

Yet,

I am

bright and warm like the sun in the sky
In your eyes


I am

Joyful

Sunlight beaming

You beautifully brighten up my day



I am

Still

Quietly reflects

On our special moment

From time to time



I am

Refreshed

Eagerly awaits

To move forward once more you asked



I am

But,

Exactly

Who and where

I am supposed to be



I am

In her tight embrace,  in love

A bond that cannot chip away nor be described
In simple words



Darling

I am

Loved
 Oct 2019
Graff1980
I sought her in the form
of a never was daughter
who will never be born
because she was just
a minor possibility.

I sought her
in the sick slaughter
of innocent
children, women,
and men.

I sought her
in the stories
I read
before I slipped
off to bed.

And when I
could not find her
I thought she was
dead.

But to pursue
my muse
is to confuse
the mind
I seek to use,

it is an abuse
of my mental faculties
to chase clarity
when I could
just as easily
find it in solitude
and simplicity
while simply
reflecting
silently
on all of reality
letting my poetry
come to me
naturally.
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