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 Jun 2016
Graff1980
It is a metallic mountainous monstrous beast
fed on the flesh of the subdued worker class.
Weary eyed figures form a line for work time.
Strangled masses stumble in starving for relaxation.
Tension tightens their tired bodies and stripped bolts.
Work men’s muscles stretched and torn to their limits
only allowed to recover on the weekends.
Red eyes and amp energy drinks don’t stop the draining.
Machine metal bites furiously smoking sore bodies.
Steam and heat cook the workers till they are tender,
and with one exhausted misstep flesh and bone
Are consumed; blood and gore paint the assembly line.
The whistle blows, production stops.
the hunger is sated, and the factory slumbers.
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
Despite my best protestations
And all those hours wrought
With layer upon layers
Of debilitating frustrations
I find that I am fallen
Reckless heart affected
By loves unrequited affections
Silver eyes aflame
That wears poetry’s
And nature’s true name
The author of my desires
Only a digital ghost
Reflected in photos
And words
Flowers and philosophies
I imagine how they sound and tasted
Flowing from the soft full lips
I wish that I could only love
The spirit of her art
But my heart rends it valves
Spends blood furiously
Wanting the seen and unseen
Desiring the poetry of
Her body and mind
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
What a beautiful bottle of
black haired poison she was,
a perfect shade of night.

I slipped in beneath her skin
plunging deeper and deeper inside;
Until her mind consumed mine,
till her needs became mine.

She ripped her wings
and I bled from my shoulder blades.

She scratched her eyes out
and I wept long thin lines
of pungent red wine.

Without any hesitation
She performed a trepanation
so she could shed
the glass that scraped
the insides of her head
and I died instead,

so when her phoenix fire
threatened to consume the world
I flew like a ****** angel
raining wet red roses into her ashes
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
You broke your back
Bled yourself
Wrapped your hands
Around your own neck
Stripped and scratched
Till you were a walking
Talking wound
But little brother
I still love you
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
When the last brown leaf
Fall beneath your feet
From the last soft breeze

When the last wave falls
And the shiny green brine
Is only a shade in your mind

When the last wolf howls
And the last bird leaps
Trying to soar
But falling before
The last wind
Can catch him

When the clouds come no more
And metal works
Lay scattered
Along with the shattered
Brick buildings

When the last mother
Touches the tiny fingers
Of the last born baby
Knowing no more
Will be born

When life is only a static echo
Spreading out in space
And this human race
Can only be known
By radio and tv signals
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
My pen cries wax tears
dripping on the floor
from the bedroom
to the bathroom door.

While you lay sipping
sweet intoxicants
I walk, partly slipping
trying to reach your side
trying to believe the lie
that love exists somewhere.

But someone else sings for you,
while my heart bleeds the truth.

The white crow flies
laughing in the night,
“Never was and never will be
you will never ever catch me.”
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
He only eats brand names
She only likes Loui Viton
Got to have a nice car
So they can drive on
To a fifty hour work week
Plus more overtime
Over worked to chase
The vaguely defined
Pricey good life
Fancy restaurants
Great vacations
But in between
Pleasures visitations
Pressure builds
Tensions tops out
Hours go grey
Before old age
Days turn to dust
Natures turns to rust
All in the pursuing
And eschewing
What they thought
They must
What they assumed was just
Cause markets never lie
And the only way to win
In this heavy human race
Is to have all the best stuff
Before you die
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
I can’t touch your hand
Cause the ghost is you
Pictures on my
Computer stand
Stand alone
Messages
Never answered
And I am
Starting to wonder
If you found
That last comfort
Or if you finally
Decided to move on
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
Tears mark my heart
I bare this cross
I took the scars
Blood paid the cost
And all I see before me
Is plains of death
Stone statue families

I’m coming home
I dug the earth
I marked the ground
I heard the bodies
Make no sound
And all I am
Is all they were
I’m coming home
To sleep no more

Hands turn to fists
I have no will
To wish for this
My body breaks
Like the last glass dish
I lay my head down
One more time
After I jot down
My last rhyme

No cloud to carry
No one left to bury
No need to hurry
No need to worry
I’m coming home
One last time
Going home to die.
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
The summers spent
Will not return
Even when we revisit them
They are distorted
Each year passing
Finds them lasting
But losing bits
Parts sorely missed
And with the death
Of family and friends
We find we cannot
Retrieve those parts
Ever again
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
They shot me in the south
Hung my brother up to die
Wet and ret swinging to death
Till he **** himself

One summer shower to clean the mess
But not enough rain
To wash away
The blood stains on the tree

In all honesty
I am grateful
That those hateful
Mother ******* shot me
For their brutality was the story
Written on the skin of my kin
Whips and chains
Spirit maimed
In the years that
That injustice remained
Trail of tears
Stolen children
Beaten
But I got off just getting shot

They burnt my brother
And his husband
Turned them
Charcoal and barbecue
Poured gasoline
To see them flailing and wailing
Didn’t even see it on the news
And all I can say
Is I am grateful
I didn’t go out that way
Ain’t that ****** up
 Jun 2016
Graff1980
How do you find peace
When you are sleep deprived
When you live to die
Working your life away
On the midnights
Tired, so tired
Caffeine
Till caffeine
Doesn’t do a thing
And when you crash
Eight hours in to
Your twelve hour shift
Life feels like ****
Tears want to run
Even if the sun shines
You are not fine
Rain drops that once
Saw you dancing
Now makes you cry
And you can’t figure out why
Everything is a trigger
And you can’t seem to figure
Out why you were smiling
At ten but at four a.m.
You’re breaking down again
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