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49.6k · May 2015
Lips
Graff1980 May 2015
Today it’s
Lips
Lips
Lips
I am obsessed
With red
Or black
Lips
Goth
Jeweled
Pierced
Lips
Uncovered
Or smothered
With lipstick
It doesn’t matter
Even though
It will pass
But in poetry
Right now
It’s lips lips lips
40.5k · Jul 2015
To The Transgender Suicides
Graff1980 Jul 2015
You will never know
The peace of acceptance
Once you are finished
Put to earth
Life was harsher than the dirt
Parents made you feel worthless
Cause you wanted to wear a short dress
Because you felt different
Cut off
Disowned
Disavowed
One friend after another disappears
And no one hears
The sobs
No one feels the salty tears
No one holds your hands
Or offers you a hug

You were ******
By the those who demand
You conform
Where there was no  warmth
The clock cuts you bitterly
Condemning you to be lonely
And I cry all the more
Knowing you won’t be the only one
Not the only daughter wanting to be a son
Not the only male that wants to be female
Not the only soft face harden
Or hard face softened till the sorrow overflows
Till everyone you know closes the door
And you disappear forever more
I wrote this in December.
38.5k · Sep 2015
The Clouds
Graff1980 Sep 2015
Today’s cloud is a rainbow
Dark blue
Light blue
Orange
Pink
With white
Outlines

Some clouds are Pentecostal fury
Orange cotton burning
With daylight’s rage
Swirling and smoking
Working themselves
Up into a storm of retribution

The clouds descend
Bluish grey beasts
Swallowing
The skies
Consuming
All things in sight
Leaving nothing
But a lone tree
To stand against
The rain and sleet
23.2k · Jul 2015
Nation
Graff1980 Jul 2015
Our nation is a father
Who spends sons unwisely
Wasting their wonder
On warrior blunders

In nations swelling pride
We see our children
Committing suicide
Honor bound to pursue
Patriotic truths

If mothers ran the world
Would it all be better
Or would maternal malice
Malform modern intent

Blue eyes telling lies
Of war and all its’ glories
Grey hair sitting there
In old reclining lawn chairs
Celebrating fantastic stories

But I know the lives lost
Were not always spent wisely
Were not always sacrificed justly
Why does it feel like no one else sees
Have I become Don Quixote

Fatherland motherland
Better planned
Would be brotherhood
And sisterhood
All that love spent for the good

Like this poem
We have lost our way
Perhaps better stanza
Will return the wisdom
Of our better sages
16.5k · May 2015
Feeling Deficiant
Graff1980 May 2015
I feel like I am neurologically deficient
That a lot of my brain cells are missing
Like a punch drunk doped up punk boxer
A pimply muscle bound ***** on steroids
Hanging out at my old high school locker
No shocker that I am no medical doctor
But I always thought I’d be just a bit better
I guess on average I am a little bit smarter
But the bar is set so low that it requires
Very little to grow and go over it, you know
In comparison to the other young men
I may be grandstanding and one upping them
But when it comes to grand scheme of things
When compared to past people
Who shared my glorious dreams
Like Percy Shelley and John Keats
Like Ginsburg and the other Beats
I think I am drifting of course just a bit
Lest we all forget the **** cut the crap to fit in it
Maybe I’m okay few travel this way anyways
So who’s to say if I’m doing it the wrong or the right way
But I still feel like my brain needs a chemical treatment
A diet with more nutrients and sufficient Supplements
Because I’m feeling neurologically deficient
13.6k · Jan 2015
The Batman Of Doubt
Graff1980 Jan 2015
Doubt is the lonely father of fear
Not a clad caped hero
Waiting to swoop in
And save the day
But a two faced killer clown
Wearing ****** crocs
With electric joy buzzer shocks
Sending surges through your veins
Sending urges that drive you insane
It may be in reason
It may be in season
But the summer heat
Can burn your feet
Under the fire of fire
Place you in stasis
As you wait to find were your space is
Letting others tell you were your place is
While they race to chase
A better life
Doubt can be better than blind
Adherence
You just have to watch out
For the dangerous side of doubt
Turn detective to fix the defective
And Steer clear of the fear
That disparages hope and reason
11.6k · Jun 2015
The Cake
Graff1980 Jun 2015
A scarlet confection
Made to tasty perfection
For your mouth’s inspection

The tip of the toppings
The vanilla flavored frosting
Is so tempting to you

The taste bud’s elation
In what you are facing
Is something like devil’s food cake

The tiled floor kitchen
In the hours bewitching
Leaves your pulse a twitching
From the caloric intake

And the hours you shorten
By licking the shortening
They are a mistake
But they are your poisonous pleasure
Made to bake and yours’ to take
It’s a sweet treat we call cake
I'm so craving something sweet. Cake is good but love would be better.
10.9k · Dec 2014
Compassion Is
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Compassion is a
Smile
An open ear
No judgment

Compassion
Is a hug
Warm
And accepting

Compassion
Is a tissue
For the tearful
And my last dollar bill
To a stranger

Compassion
Is a thousand fold paths
Of daily acts
Of kindness
10.4k · Dec 2014
The Desert Metaphor
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Sometimes my eyes
Are the skies
Of the desert
Dry as the lies
That they told us

Sandy brown
On the ground
Parched particles
Pointy patches
Of cactuses

Insects and mole rats
Little lizards that run fast
And you may ask
Where is the metaphor
Well, everything is a
Metaphor for everything else
I know it should be cacti for the plural but cactuses works better.
9.9k · Jun 2015
See The Suffering
Graff1980 Jun 2015
That the intensity of our society
That shattered and splattered our history
With the blood and sorrow of our humanity
Our family
Makes me weep
Makes me speak grievously
For the evils of hiding our grief
We need to see the suffering
To begin to heal our reality
8.8k · Apr 2015
Sex gun
Graff1980 Apr 2015
She leads with licentious behavior
Like my ****** savior
I savor
Her thighs
I delight in her sighs
Her sexed up scent gets me high
Mounds of flesh
Soft *******
Tender tongue
Lashing
Like whips
Till I am throbbing from the hip
Till my gun comes
And I become
Unequipped
Resting with an empty barrel
Dripping slimy smoke
The last vestiges
Of trembling ecstasy
Wiped from her lustful smile
8.8k · Dec 2014
The Sidewalk Crow
Graff1980 Dec 2014
The sidewalk crow
Picking at the stone
Like the streets were still his home
Nibbling at this mess
Of concrete flesh
Gasping and rasping
To catch a smog-less breath
Black thing shimmering
In the sweltering city heat
No worms to eat
Because he can’t crack
That grey concrete
8.3k · Jun 2015
Enlightening
Graff1980 Jun 2015
The bitter bruises
That mark my bare flesh

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The harsh words of enemies,
Family, and friends

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The cruel human suffering
And daily acts of violence

Bring me closer to enlightenment

The **** I see on my computer screens
The darkness of our society

Bring me closer to enlightenment

You know what
I don’t need to be that enlightened
8.3k · Apr 2015
Hope
Graff1980 Apr 2015
Hope
The grass will not settle
Beneath our feet

Hope
The sun will rise
With wondrous oranges
And sleep will come

Hope
That hope is not wasted
Tasting a twinge of regret
May make hope sweeter

Hope
That hope is real
8.2k · Jul 2015
Garbage In Garbage Out
Graff1980 Jul 2015
You put garbage in you get garbage out
Health food fanatics know what I am talking about
McDonalds, Arby’s and all those Buffets
Sluggish citizens working Twelve to ten
And to cover up their poor nutrition
We soup up the brackish black brew
Killing ourselves with more caffeine till
We collapse

You put garbage in you get garbage out
Good teachers with years of experience
Know what I am talking about
The tweet, the face book
Are superficial connections
Binge watching brain-dead reality show people
Speed reading unverified Articles
Peer reviewed paper by academic writers
Don’t get the press the talking heads
With party lines and hateful sentiments get

You put garbage in you get garbage out
Any poet philosopher knows what I am talking about
Flashing screens switching scenes while twitching teens
Sit texting banal and ephemeral things
No grand dreams but to be normal
No expansion of the human potential
Just block and block of picket fence prisons
Dreams are limited to advertised fantasies
8.1k · Jun 2015
Here Is To Beer
Graff1980 Jun 2015
Here is to the bitter eye of the even sky
The acidic beverage I imbibe
So I can feel just a little more alive
For that cardiac killing back breaking
Blood spilling sweat distilling nine to five
7.5k · Apr 2015
Killing The Gay
Graff1980 Apr 2015
We killed
Hart Crane
Though he leapt
To his death
A poet’s plan
Or perhaps a whim
We hold the blame

We killed Freddie Mercury
And stopped the music
The callous political games
Blocked possible gains
In a needed cure

We killed Harvey Milk
We were the bullets
And the metal frame
Held the assassin’s hand
We hold the shame

We killed
The blond burnt boy
Encouraging
The hate

We killed the strung up
Beautiful boys
The hung up
Beaten up
Broken hearted
Brothers and sons

We are the progenitors
Of the violence
Through action
And more often than not
Through inaction

Maybe a little more guilt
Would serve us well
7.0k · Nov 2014
The Tides
Graff1980 Nov 2014
We are sands astride and in the tides
Waters which tare us from both sides

Passion and fury
Duty and honor
Pushes us in
And pull us out

Love to hate
Pushes us in
And pulls us out

The desire for domesticity
And the desire to be free
Pushes us in
And pulls out

Till we are bludgeoned
By the flotsam
Tangled in the terrible debris
Battered by the violent sea
No more you than I am me
And I wish I had the gills to breath
Before those tides overwhelm me
6.4k · Feb 2015
Empathy Versus Apathy
Graff1980 Feb 2015
I sat in history class
Must have been
My senior
Or junior year

On the screen
Came horrible things
Emaciated
Decimated
Human beings

Numbers tattooed
Bodies burnt
Gas chambers
Stories so cruel

Years after we read
Anne Frank’s diary
But no one really had a clue

The pictures
Were part of a documentary
Made to remind us
Of human insanity

Skin and bones
Broken men
Barely left standing
Human suffering

I couldn’t help but cry
But behind me no one else did
And then I couldn’t help but wonder why
No one else felt the same sadness in it
6.3k · Jan 2015
The Violence
Graff1980 Jan 2015
I beat my feet against the floor
Thud thud thud
Till the dark red blood
Spews from my new nubs

I bang my head into the wall
Thud thud thud
Till the crimson drips
Drop silently into the mud

I punch the glass window
Thud clash crash
The glass shatters and my fist
Fly’s past the panes

Again and again with no end
In sight
I rage against the night
Violence incarnate
Fury in human form
Flesh and blood storm
No sanity for this mad refugee
Just blood and gore
6.3k · Feb 2015
Brown Is the New Pink
Graff1980 Feb 2015
Brown is the new pink
It don’t matter what you think
A pretty man can make a pretty woman
It’s all about perspective
Gender neutral
Brown hair
Thick lip smile
Brown skin
Long lashes
Brown eyes
Strong arms
Brown is beautiful
5.7k · Oct 2015
Naked
Graff1980 Oct 2015
The naked is not dangerous.
Lust filling the eyes of young.
Full bodied stretching
yearning for what is to ***
or merely done
For the sake of comfort.

Not a foreign folly
But a jolly adventure
letting the wind and water
wash away the stress of the days.

Naked as the snakes
or the furless babies
breastfeeding at their mother’s breast.

**** and curved.
Fat or muscled.
Not dangerous, but beautiful
like Michelangelo’s David.
The **** does not destroy
neither does the ******.
****** does not diminish our morality.
5.7k · Jan 2015
Making Morality 2
Graff1980 Jan 2015
The rush of blood the face we placed
On every corner on every space
We raced to come to terms with life
With morality a facade for strife
Pointing to the pain as a promise for more
Pointing to old books that might restore
Dignity and respect for the living
While other possibilities are destroyed
And the destroyers are forgiven
Sweaty palms stomach ulcerated
And for the sake of the soon to be liberated
Let me explain how real morals are made
Not through musty scriptures
Not through verses that are immature
But through learning and coming to terms with
How everyone feels and experiences life different
5.6k · Dec 2014
She Beast
Graff1980 Dec 2014
She gnawed at his flesh
She clawed at his skin
To fulfill her filthy sin
Violence
And rage
All this displayed
All of her hate
He wore on his face
And in the evening
After the bleeding
Pass the bruising
Red marks
He’d sniff and snuffle
His body would crumble
With all of the despair in his heart
He was told to remember
As his will was dismembered
And his spirits were crushed to the ground
This was all your own doing
Even though she was stewing
No fault of hers will ever be found
5.5k · Dec 2014
Making 'Em Laugh
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Man I got years of practice
At making ‘em laugh at this
And that ****
Gas out my ***
Shakespeare references
Comic book characters
Foreign accents
Effeminate behavior
Always a loving labor
Smiles and chuckles
To ease or eliminate
The distance and uncertainty
Between those I appreciate
5.2k · Apr 2015
The Carnival
Graff1980 Apr 2015
It was about fifteen years ago
No romantic notions
No grand stories
Just another part of my strange journey
For a high school dropout

It was a wooden bed
In a blue storage trailer
One and a half month long
Sleep deprived
Long drive
From site to site
One week
Per city
Doing my laundry
At laundry matts
With strange pretty girls
Hanging at a bar
Playing slutty slot machines
No drinking
Cause I was only nineteen

It was two vets
From different wars
Smoking *** in the morning
It was my first *** buzz
Staring stupidly up
At the ceiling
The strangest set of strangers
Bathing in the back of a semi
Getting lunch with a lemon punch
Using carny credit

It was sketching for a distraction
No artistic satisfaction
Very few journal entries
And those journals are now lost
Searching for myself
As all young men do
In the end it was just another job
5.2k · Jun 2017
Watch Me
Graff1980 Jun 2017
The city sounds of ordered chaos, the constant wave of people crossing back and forth like a human tide. Strangers cut in and out of their tiny groups and barely miss colliding. Honks and bleats hasten the crowds pace as they race to cross the road. Some people stare at their phones, others watch the road but no one looks directly at another human being. Somewhere, near here and in-between there just off to the side a stranger sits mumbling, barely coherent.

“Watch me.”

The age lines run so deep into his skin that they might as well be built in. White stubble paints a drawn slightly sunburnt face. Deep dark blue eyes scan the city life for some unknown relief.
A red line catches his eyes, followed by a childlike voice singing playfully. “Watch me mommy.”

Tiny matchbox cars race around a shallow hole. The little cars cross dips and dirt ramps increasing the young boy’s excitement, as he mimics his favorite show. They crash into a partially exposed root. “Brrckkkeeech bccccch.”A fake explosion sounds. Dusk begins to fall as the cars settle into their makeshift cereal box garage. Smiling and dusty the boy crosses the small road, then the tiny parking lot, and comes home.

Long ***** white hair falls messily across the man’s worn face. All but a few awkwardly placed teeth are gone. Some are yellow while others are darker and rotting. His breath reeks. The emaciated figure feels the cramps of hunger pains. A brown speckled haze clouds his vision, followed by a slight coldness and dizziness creeping over his body.

“Watch me.”

Cardboard swords clash in a titanic battle of good versus evil.  Until the young victor jumps upon his sawhorse stead. A yowl of pain sounds as his tiny sac is smashed. The pain jolts upwards and inwards causing temporary paralysis. Thin legs scrape the wooden brace dragging chips of paint down with him as he falls off his fake saddle. The victor is defeated by pain. A few seconds later the internal pain passes and he is up and at it again, running straight for a large tree. At the last second he swerves barely avoiding a painful collision. In his mind a red cape swooshes behind him as he flies off to save metropolis.

The summer heat draws pit stains on the old man ***** orange tee. The neckline is stretched and has an almost circular pattern of moisture. Barely able to move, his sick stench draws the attention of flies. Bugs buzz by almost as frequently as strangers walking by.

“Watch me.”

Tears fall from the tiny child eyes, as he stumbles in pain. A deep **** runs red with lines of falling blood. His mother picks him up and carries him to the neighbor’s car. She whispers soft word of reassurance. The tears eventually stop.

The man clenches his chest. Pain permeates his being. His breath is lost. He stumbles falling harshly against the cold grey cement sidewalk. Tears fall. He reaches for strangers pleading weakly for their assistance. A foot smashes against his left side, causing more pain to flame up; while forcing him to edge of the sidewalk. The crowd keeps moving.
A stranger snarls “get out of the way you ***.”

“Watch me.” The old man whispers as he recalls his mother’s warmth. Soft kisses planted on his forehead. Sitting in the dark living room safely snuggled next to his mother as a scary storm rages violently against a small house.

“Watch me.” He cries. His voice, obscured by the city, fades and is forgotten.
5.0k · Jul 2015
Touch
Graff1980 Jul 2015
There is a painful vacuum
Not a naked desire but still
A longing unfulfilled
That hollows the soul
It is why babies wail
Why old men wake crying
From beginning to end

We evolved to be touched
Skin on skin does not need to be
A ****** frenzy
A hug, a handshake
And pat on the back
Or a hand on his shoulder

The old man waits
The silence of isolation breaks
Oxytocin rushes through his system
Rebooting forgotten feelings
Restoring diminished capacities
It does not return all abilities
But enlivens deadened synapses
Yes it is very cerebral

Without it we wither away
Stewing in mental and physical decay
So, have you touched someone today?
4.9k · Jun 2015
Speak The Truth
Graff1980 Jun 2015
It’s a privilege to speak the truth to those in power
But an honor to speak the truth to those
Who do not know their strength
To awaken and empower them
To see their movement
4.8k · Dec 2014
Marvel and DC
Graff1980 Dec 2014
You crossover the cutting board
Quick witted leather fitted
Eyes blasting beautiful rainbows
Muscle rippling with truth
Capes and cowls
Heroes and villains
Smiles and scowls
A league of Avengers
A modern mythology
Patterned after past pantheons
DC to Marvel
The same side of two twisted coins
The same lie that I love to enjoy
Fiction intertwined with philosophy
Violence intertwined with morality
Leaving me with these power fantasies
Of superhero friends and families
You’re on my tv, movie screen
In my comic books, novels,
And even in my dreams
4.8k · Feb 2015
Prison
Graff1980 Feb 2015
Broken box
Society’s cold shoulder
Children grow older
People get colder
Humans become more animalistic
Incarcerated *******
Humans don’t deserve this
Barbarity

Our city
Needs clarity
Eyes upwards in isolation
Nocturnal
Echo location
With no manifestation of god
But the sun feels so good

Freedom forgotten
Lost to new conditioning
A tumor that gains a stronger claim
To an inmate’s brain

We are not improving our world
We are just pharmacist repositioning
The world’s pain
4.7k · May 2015
Blood
Graff1980 May 2015
The blood vats
Stirring clotting goo
A tepid sticky stew
Crimson mess
Spilt on the floor
The hungry goblins
Gulping the pulpy gore
Plasma swimming
In spider web veins
The dripping fluid
Sticking to you
Soaking through
The stained washcloth
Swirling in the warm bath
Cloudy dispersion
Smoky mass
Dark diluting
And disappearing
Through time
And loss
So here we are
Generations of
Vampire blood
Leaching the life force
Spreading the plague
And bleeding
Life from one generation
To the next
4.6k · Dec 2014
Three Fragments
Graff1980 Dec 2014
1.
Such vehemence
For immigrants
Border patrol
Vigilance
I never knew
A human being
Could be illegal

2.
A child should never be taught to hate
And human beings must never be insulated
Or inoculated against the horrors of war


3.
There is no liberation in this economy
Debt is a slower and slightly grayer
Variation of slavery
No more cotton fields but prison labor
Tell me where is our great modern emancipator?
4.5k · May 2015
Come Dance With Me
Graff1980 May 2015
We exist in the revelry
The in-between
Living scenes
And agony
So won’t you come
And dance with me

Work the strings
Pull the levers
Change the sound
Clear the ground
As your feet pound
The ***** downtown streets

Close the doors
Hold me near
As I hold you dear
Forget the day
Forget the night
Together embraced
In dance we are
Intertwined

Cut the chord
Stop the beat
Even then
We will still
Move our feet
Dancing till
They close the streets
It’s you and me
Free to dance
So come dance with me
4.5k · Sep 2018
Untitled 0.
Graff1980 Sep 2018
I’m just a fading echo
of my younger self,
an empty shadow
who performs
a preordained
ballet
with a broken leg
red and inflamed.

I’m just a broken
ceramic figurine
that is beautiful
but barely seen
and seldom
appreciated
for the quality
I bring.

I’m just a Poe
and Van Gogh
tragic
romantic
poet
longing to connect
to world
that forgets
its humanity
constantly.

I’m just tired.
4.5k · Jan 2015
The Black Rose
Graff1980 Jan 2015
It is a passing love affair
The black thorny rose
Thin stemmed
Bleeding nightmare
Beauty bathed in darkness
Like a black cat
Sleek feline queen of Sheba
Narcissus and Nefertiti
Persephone
Eyes open no final reflection in death
Just peace from life’s pain
Not a mistress I would pursue for a kiss
But one that one day I might not resist
4.4k · Dec 2014
Reason and Comparison
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Life seldom grants us absolutes
Before the truth of reason
Comparison was treason
Ignoring the fact
That some have and some lack
Was common practice

Justice was lackluster
Politicians and business men
Were fluff and lots of bluster

But now with all the information we have
Reason and comparison should be elevated
Inequalities should be seriously debated
Not with flowery words which inform so little
But conceal so much, but with science
Because facts find hidden truths revealed
And there is seldom to much truth
4.4k · Sep 2018
Untitled-17
Graff1980 Sep 2018
Nobody knows the
the darker corners
of my decrepit soul,

a stale and stinky
nasty shrinking
***** of abstraction,
that is less than
a fraction
of nothingness,

a shadowy space
where people cringe
and strangers displace
their rage
till tension and resentment
fill this smelly place.

Nobody knows
that my heart
does not grow
but disposes
of the red roses,
dripping paint
of crimson pain,

beatings
taken in exchange
for struggles
and anguish,
pumping out plump
plumes of poetry
and prose
to express the truth,

that nobody knows.
4.3k · Nov 2023
Untitled
Graff1980 Nov 2023
I’ve been to the ledge,
looking into an abyss
certain that I
wouldn’t be missed
and even if one person did,
they’d be better off in a world
without me in it.

I’ve seen shadows creeping
while I was almost sleeping
halfway between
waking and a dream,
with a spiderlike scribble
crawling across my blanket
that I couldn’t smash
or even shake off.

I’ve been swept up
in a manic moment,
then began drowning
in an endless pit,
and almost died in it.

So many self-inflicted
near misses, electric,
pill bottle, and razor kisses
but my body insisted
on living when my mind
wanted a quiet end
to the painful buzzing.

Some say it gets better,
and for me it did,
some say all you got to do
is keep trying to live,
some day you will make it.
It’s one struggle at a time.

But sometimes people
go into those dark caverns
and never come back.
It’s not a beautiful death
just a tragic final act.

-2021
4.2k · Dec 2014
Defending Freedom
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Incineration
Decapitation
Mutilation
The Veneration
And Sublimation
Of a Freethinking nation
The Devastation
Of Liberty
Comes with the
Consuming identity
Of Religious
Indoctrination
4.2k · Oct 2018
Untitled 12
Graff1980 Oct 2018
I have a heart
made to adore
juvenile fantasies,
despite modern tragedies.

In moments of madness
when modern photography
presents to me
the horrors of humanity
I can engage for a minute
and escape the insanity
in the comics
that carry super hero forms.

When I see bombs
that blister skin
till flesh bursts
revealing red disfigurement
I can travel in
my own mental
compartment
to escape this.
I can revisit
Winnie the pooh
or review the crew
of “Star Trek
The Next Generation.”

When mind numbing poverty
rears its sad faces at me,
with stranger’s eyes
and thin lips quivering
in lonely desperation,
despite my empathy
I have a gift for escaping
the irrationality
of human suffering.

I just sip the soft brew
of nostalgia for old cartoons
recalling a slightly saner time,
when all the sorrows
were only mine,
when I ached
with a mother’s fury
but tv shows saw me distracted
the fact is
I have been escaping
my whole life,

and I don’t see
that changing.
Graff1980 Mar 2015
When you don’t have to see
When it’s just a tv screen
Muted voices scream
But you can’t hear a thing

When you’re not on the ground
To feel the fear or hear the sounds
Then it’s easier to look away
It gets easier to stand and say
That waging war is okay

But when it’s your blood
Or the blood of those you love
When the price you pay is personal
Then the decisions are made more carefully

Too bad politicians and rich men
Don’t have to send their sons and daughters
Off to war to face an almost certain slaughter

Maybe if the generals and congressmen
The admirals and the president
Had to stand in the thick of it
I might trust their judgment
4.1k · Jun 2015
Frankenstein's Child
Graff1980 Jun 2015
How can we not feel Adam’s pain
See the features of this creature
Tortured by people’s disdain
And not weep at his wretched state

Frankenstein’s creation
From his strange life equation
Electrical innovation
In that once marvelous now dead age

How can we not feel Adam’s pain
The child with no real name
Only a borrowed nomenclature
To define his human inhumane nature

Torches and Preachers calling for his head
Love denied never finding peace
This so called beast could rip us to shreds
Tear our flesh asunder and squash our heads

But when he speaks racked with life’s pain
A horridly embellished mirror of my own
My defenses break opening the floodgate
And the monster makes me cry
4.1k · Jan 2015
Cassandra
Graff1980 Jan 2015
It never ends, fragments of visions collapsing upon themselves painfully. Her swollen eyes opening, and bursting with orange fire. Then closing just as fast. In between those agonizing seconds she sees everything. Thousands of years cycling over and over. Visions of visions within visions.


Cassandra saw her city razed to the ground. The wall which once stood firm against the onslaught of enemies crumbling with the ravages of time. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again she saw her own grief. Her cousin had fallen in battle. She closed her eyes again, and scratched at her itchy eyelids.



Ten weeks passed without a blink, not even a fraction of an opening. She was disciplined, but the longer she fought the more her eyelids would burn. One blink to ease the agony and she was forced to see her father’s skin. A purple mass of dead flesh bubbling swelling, exploding, and rotting, with maggots squirming in out and around till flies formed and flew away. Another corpse left out in a burning city. One among many denied a peaceful death. Buildings crumbled to dust, the bodies became one with the earth. Cassandra cried without opening her eyes. Her father stroked her long soft curls, whispering reassurances. “It’s all right my child.”


Another three or four weeks passed. She had become blinder than Tiresias the blind prophet. Unable to recall if that was a story she had heard, or would hear in the future.  She sobbed spilling each and every sorrow she could. Every tragedy yet to come. Her father smiled gently placing a warm cloth upon her brow. “Shush my child these nightmares will fade soon enough.”


The young girl opened her eyes again. This time a years’ worth of history unfolded. She saw soldiers gathering arms. Battlements born of the Bronze Age burning with righteous rage. Steel blades clanging against bronze shields in preparation for war. Boats fully loaded departed.


She closed her eyes once more. It would be another two months before she opened them. In the meantime she pleaded with her father to leave the city. Day in and day out begging, sobbing, and screaming until she was sent away.


It was becoming harder and harder to keep her eyes closed. There was a burning force aching to escape. She managed five more weeks until she could bare the pain no longer. As her new sisters bathed her pale dry skin with the sweetest scented oils the young girl recited all that she saw and felt.


The first footfalls of the first soldier’s feet to touch the beach. The feel of the sand as it swirled in, out and around the soldier’s sandals. The general howling commands. The green eyes hungry for battle. The faces contorted in controlled rage. All that intensity burning under the once civilized façade. She closed her eyes again.


Cassandra sat silently in exhaustion, as the sisters slowly brushed the knots out of her long brown hair. They brought her a blindfold, which allowed only a small comfort. This time she only managed to resist for two weeks. The vision came upon her with such force that she cried out and collapsed.


Now the city was burning. Citizen screamed as they ran in terror. Brave men rushed forwards to be impaled on the spears of other brave men. Arrows swallowed the moonlight picking at the earth and scavenging for some bare flesh to devour. Blood ran like red rainwater. Streets streamed thin crimson pools diluted by warm summer showers. The stench oh, the stench, it made Cassandra ***** up chunks of soggy bread and half-digested beef mixed with red wine and stomach acid, while she tried to force her eyes to close.


Finally, she closed her eyes again. The sisters tried to sooth her sorrows, to no avail. Within a years’ time the young girl lost the ability to close her eyes. Cassandra eyeballs slowly burnt out until there was nothing left but charcoaled eye sockets. By the next year she could no longer speak. Cassandra became paralyzed by the futility of her existence.


In her mind the war had come and gone. The sieges were no longer an issue. She no longer felt the urge to cry for the dead. What was, will be, and what will be cannot be undone. What cannot be undone has already happened. Apollo had cursed her. Her beauty had enraptured him, her wit had charmed him, but her will had enraged him.


She was only thirteen with brown eyes and long hair of rare quality, soul so powerful that almost anyone who met her could feel its energy. She shamed the gods with her purity, and unwillingly ensnared their affection.


At first Apollo came with strong arms and tender words. Wooing to the point of painful pleasure. Her eyes could not handle such radiance. His skin burned as his chariot burned. Hair golden flames, skin solar yellow, eye orange as the sun. Each kiss burnt like the worse fever, taking her against her will, savaging her sanity. As if, as if being a god gave him the right to take such liberties.


Apollo viewed her early rejections with whimsy, believing them to be some cute token of her modesty. A god can afford to wait, after all eternity was on his side. After the first hundred no’s his affection gave way to anger. Until his desire could not bear rejection any longer.


At last he cried out to Cassandra. “I will have you or else.”


With a firm but fiery hand he swept her up.  Forcing his mouth against hers. Parting her pursed lip with his powerful tongue.  He shoved his tongue into her mouth, until tears streamed down her cheeks. She could not resist with words, because her mouth was occupied, so she took the only action she knew available to her.


She bit down as hard she could. Lava spewed from Apollo’s lips, roughly singing the inside of her mouth. Without realizing what was happening she swallowed. Her skin began to glow, tiny childlike limbs lengthened and tightened. From her eyes radiated the most powerful light ever seen by man or god. For a moment Apollo cowered beneath the awe of her power, stumbling backwards to the ground dumbfounded.


Regaining his composure he slapped her aside. Scowling in rage “How dare you. You. You worthless *****.”


Her lips parted now of her own volition. Her voice raged with a deep and powerful resonance. “How dare you, you whimpering fool.” The power still flowing inwards filled her with confidence. “I see you for what you are. A tool, a man made invention.” The radiance of her skin was slowly fading. “I see too much now.” She cried out in an ******* fury. A smile crossed her lips. “I see what will become of you and your ilk.”


With strength previously unimagined the young girl thrusted her small hands out throttling Apollo’s throat. He trembled in fear. “You cannot hope to contain the power of me. I am generations incarnated. Passing power from one age to the next. I will not be enslaved.” Her skin began to blink, her voice loss much of its force. “I am Cassandra, and you a merely a passing phase. I will tell the world of all I have seen.”


The last bit of godly energy faded from her skin. Cassandra collapsed. “I still see it all, and you will never touch me again.”


Apollo brushed bits of earth off his person. “See all you want, I care not.” He lunged for her. A flash of thin white light flung him back.

Confused, Apollo rose. Glaring he screamed “You may see all now. It is a gift my blood has given you, but soon it will become a curse. For no mortal wishes to believe that the fates have already written their story. They will ignore you, and in doing so you will find that this power you have gained will be for naught. Thus will be your curse to see all, with no power to stop it.”


Cassandra’s eyes opened wide, seconds split into eternity. She felt the passing of all those around her. She felts time’s stench and rot all around her. Her skin would wrinkle to a certain degree but she would be eternal. She saw cities rise and fall. Some to rise again others to be forgotten. She saw herself seeing each of these visions again and again. She lived her immortal life over and over, events unchanged be anything she said.


The only real comfort was that she saw Apollo wither away. As the old gods fell to ruins weakened by the rationality of new gods, then the rationality of structured reason. Then came the rise of something new and better. Reason with abstraction, abstraction with order, a cycle of energy which emboldened and empowered man. She chuckled.
“Go away little godling.”
And like the little thing he was, Apollo ran.
Her father shushed her, wiping the tears from her face.
The sisters bathed her; singing songs of love and adoration.
Troy fell under the onslaught.
Apollo came and went again.


Cassandra’s eyes opened wide closed and open wide once more, seconds split into eternity. She felt the passing of all those around her. She felts time’s stench and rot all around her. Her skin would wrinkle to a certain degree but she would be eternal. She saw cities rise and fall. Some to rise again others to be forgotten. She saw herself seeing each of these visions again and again. She lived her immortal life over and over, events unchanged be anything she said.


The only one real comfort was that she saw Apollo wither away. As the old gods fell to ruins weakened by the rationality of new gods, then the rationality of structured reason. Then came the rise of something new and better. Reason with abstraction, abstraction with order, a cycle of energy which emboldened and empowered man. She chuckled.
“Go away little godling.”
And like the little thing he was, Apollo ran.
Her father shushed her, wiping the tears from her face.
The sisters bathed her; singing songs of love and adoration.
Troy fell under the onslaught.
Apollo came and went again.
4.0k · Mar 2015
Nostalgia
Graff1980 Mar 2015
Nostalgia is okay
To get lost in yesterday
Not wallowing in regret
But swimming in
The remembering
Those people and things
We loved
Even when they are lost to us
3.9k · Jan 2015
Digital Echo
Graff1980 Jan 2015
She is a digital echo
Hollow hole
Binary string
Stuck in my memory
Pictures pasted on facebook
Tumblr and twitter
Technological footprint
In the internet sand
A ghost in the system
Server soft saved
Humanity lost that day
But she still exists
3.9k · Oct 2018
Untitled.
Graff1980 Oct 2018
It is quiet,
secret seconds
seeking distractions
from overthinking,
and reacting.

Obsessive behavior
becomes
redundant checking,
and occasionally
checking again
unnecessarily.

It is observing
emotional signals
and decoding them
to the best of
one’s ability,
consciously,
and unconsciously.
Till, their anxiety,
anger, and sadness
is distorted
and reflected
in your feelings.

It is only alleviated
in engaging with
informative
and educational information,
fitness and exercise,
entertainment,
or sleeping.
3.9k · Jun 2015
Consumption Consumes
Graff1980 Jun 2015
I pursued my disease
With a virulent persistence
Like the plague
Or your pestilence
I fed upon your opulence
Walking red death
I marked your flesh
The whooping cough
The symptoms most forgot
Dreaming darkly
Poets cry sadly
Artists die crying
As the fever kept eating
All of their sanity
Inch by inch I crept
Awake while you slept
Burning holes in your brain
Until nothing of you remained
Just a cold cart to carry
The carrion left behind
But I still miss
That delicious mind
3.9k · Sep 2015
Fear And Uncertainty
Graff1980 Sep 2015
Fear and uncertainty
are the bane of humanity
poison to the populace
yet, with knowledge
they can be conquered.

But tamed social schemes
proposed by powerful people preying
on those who feel powerless
are detrimental to all human beings.

So, in the face of the unknown
my brothers and sisters
accept the enslavement
giving in to the higher force
that does not exist.
Faith persists
And flourishes
in the realm of fear
and uncertainty.
3.8k · Aug 2015
Untitled
Graff1980 Aug 2015
The pharmacist is not your friend
He may put you up in a high hotel
With slip streams of ****** pills
Paxil and Wellbutrin
Designed to defeat depression
To facilitate a fog like
Fugues of perfected moods
With drugs made to create
The perfect drone state
So you can pay your bills
So you can **** and sleep well
So you can keep your health
But it is poison
Kidney killing swill
And while you are under the influence
Perfectly sedated so you forget how to feel
One hand is in your pocket
Thinning your wallet draining dollar bills
While the other hand holds your heart
Crushing what is left of your already weakened will
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