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Graff1980 Apr 2018
Silliness 2.

Mr. Marvel
went to the
carnival
to see something
wonderful,
but left
depressed
because
even their best
performance
was lackluster.


Silliness 3.

Mr. Morris
bored us
with his
postage
lecture.

Mr. Neely
had a voice
that was squealy.

Ms. O’Neal
did not know how to feel
about the unreal
reality shows.

Ms. Pearl
never ever
considered
conquering the world,
but she would have
ruled it well.

Mr. Range
was the least strange
person in this poem.


Silliness 4.

Mr. *******br>refused to quit
even when
he was
already done.

Ms. Taylor
always smiled
and replied
I’ll see you later,
even when
she knew
she wouldn’t.

Mr. Vance
just learned
how to dance.

Ms. Webb
can’t wait
to go to bed.

Mr. Young
always
gets done
early.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
Ms. Ambrose
wrote
excellent prose.

Ms. Baily
played the Banjo
daily.

Ms. Carter
drove farther
then anyone else at work.

Mr. Dennison
loved to eat
venison.

Ms. Falco
once ate
yellow snow.

Mr. *****
drank too much
*****.

Mr. Hall
got lost
at the local
mall.

Ms. Kincaid
loved lemonade.

Mr. Lesko
hates the
winter cold
and the way
this poem was wrote.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
It’s a funny thing
a single song
can send me
back into
my memory.

Somewhere
out there
a melody
from a movie
I saw as a kid,

I hear that song
and feel
a tinge of sadness
as tears
threaten
to make
an unwanted
cameo appearance.

The first time
I heard this
I was with
my mother
in a small house
for abused women.

Somewhere
out there
in the past
before
things got
really bad,

they were bad
for her,
but I was ok.
I did not have a clue
what we were
going through.

Later,
the pain
that jaded her
would become
my shadow cloak
to wear,
as I looked
for somewhere
out there
where
I would be free,
from her rage.

I never really
found that place,
but when I hear
that song,
I can recall
my mother
before the fall.

Even at
a cynical
thirty-seven
a small part
of my heart
longs for
the loving mother
that was
somewhere out there
before those bad days.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
It is a perfect
fall day
for following
whatever whim
directs me
to ride
against or with
the wind.

I daydream
that I am being
chased by
villainous
creeps.

My bike crosses
the worn wooden bridge
with the thud of
loose boards
persistently
following me.
I imagine
they are my enemies.

Brown leaves
clutter
the dirt path
crunching
and crumbling
under
the black tires.

On the sidewalk
I speed up
preparing for
the air
I will walk
as I leap off
the top
of the three steps
to finally escape
my enemies.

I love
this ten speed
purple huffy
that carries me
wherever
I choose to be.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
Soft swirling
streams
of liquid violet,
moved around her body
like silk scarves.

Green gloves
touched
with the love
of living fruit,

rays of radiances
gave way
to smiles
birthed
from
****** canals.

Opposite
this virginal dancer
another lover sat,
female form
of cold blankness,
deathly pallor
of numb affection.

For one I wake
in grand *******,
but for the other
I stay alert,
putting her off
for as long
as opportunity
and will allow.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
They come in
shifting tides
of low to high
and back again.

Wavering
wavelengths
of unpredictable
measures,
the ultimate
uncertainty
principal.

Like sound
which
moves from
one pitch
to the next
it is so complex.

Like Schrodinger’s cat
there one day
and the next
all that is left
is ****
and a dead feline.

In time
you may realize
these chemical lies,
though sweet
cannot compete
with your biology,

But mostly
you will devour me
and spit me out
savagely,
calling me
the messenger
of things
you do not want to hear
as you bury me
in heartbreaking isolation
and obscurity.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
The faint fauna falls behind me;
Thick coat encumbers my lumbering form
as I follow natures slightly frigid visage.
I am seeking something,
some soothing warmth
or soft storm
to calm my lonely soul.
I still seek some partner in life
but for now
I must settle for nature
as fair enough
for my affectionate love.
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