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She is made to speak
without words,
makes me weep
when she sweeps
her hands across
the wooden floor boards
raising them up
then dropping them
once more.
She is made to speak
with a well defined
unique physique,
strong and tiny
sparkling shoes
move as I lose
and gain a muse.

A gazelle like
graceful rise
as she jumps
oh, so high
that I feel
angels will
drop from the sky
just to catch
her eyes
for a second.

She is made to speak,
with arms and feet
that move like
spiraling gas clouds
in the heaven,
a body that bends like
a sweet stream,
and she visits me discreetly
in my nighttime
and daydreams.

She is made to speak
and though I seek
to be near her,
I never get to hear her.
I only know her
from a distance
in the form of dance.
I want to be fit,
but ****
I love

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.
Graff1980 Oct 8
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

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
on all of reality
letting my poetry
come to me
Graff1980 Oct 7
Some strange storm is a brewing,
a dark clouded chaos soon ensuing,
wind and water moving fast
for our viewing
as this wet fury falls upon
the unsuspecting form
of everyone.
Graff1980 Oct 6
I maybe a little upset,
with what
this world
seeks to possess,
but I am not

Things are going
pretty good,
I am not worried about
taking any direction
that people think I should
because this cosmos
does not give
one flit about my ****.

I am ok,
but sometime
my mind
catches an echo of
the me I use to be.

As I drive over
the lake outside
the city of Springfield
where I spend
most of my time,
I feel just a spark,
just a slight itch to
drive straight towards
the metal guards
and split my car
into two metal parts.

It wouldn’t be hard.
All it would take
is a twist of the wheel
and ignoring my brakes,
so the darkness
could overtake
my current consciousness;

But, I do not live
in that mental compartment
This is just a scary echo
of the sad anxious man, I was
many years ago.
Graff1980 Oct 6
Soft pink petals,
part unfolding
as the flower blooms
sweetly growing.

Arms around me
while I am moving
in a sloppy circle
cause we are two
who are grooving,
while her
soft flower arms
enfold me in their
springtime charms.

A tiny droplet
becomes percussion
as soft music moves us
to a percussive mood
in this wonderful interlude.

She clenches tighter
and I smile.
Her head rests
on my shoulder
and the world
gets less colder.

So, watch this weary
old romantic
start to tear up
as he imagines
a true love.

In the evening we are talking
while soft footprints
on the beach
finds us walking
sandals in hand
because we both
enjoy the feel of sand
on our bare feet.

In the morning
we wake together.
Her hazel eyes
and hair of fire,
her tender touch
does so inspire
that in this moment
I loose
a hundred pounds
of life’s abuses
and gain a shiny new
point of view.
I wake from wonder’s reverie
knowing this is but a fleeting dream
that will never be my reality.
Graff1980 Oct 5
My daydreams
are dark cities
that drift
the cosmic mists
of multicolored
of shiny secrets
that strangers miss
in looking down
at the black hole
of their cell phones.

These starship dreams
float precariously
just beyond the reach
of humanity,
in a hopeful memory
of some forgotten
childhood fancy.

Peace, and love,
and understanding
in a
space faring collective.

My dreams become
the ash and after burn
of a creative mind spurned
and turned
towards more mundane
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