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336 · Sep 2015
The Fallen and Burnt
Graff1980 Sep 2015
The bird that sings above the clouds
will crash smashing into the earth.
The inferno from the candle wick
will destroy everything it once lit.

Perhaps, I am the comet that flew to close,
meant to pass by, but got caught
in the earth’s atmosphere;

Becoming like the other stuff that knows
the height of ecstasy
and the anguish of being fallen or burnt.
335 · Jan 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Jan 2016
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
335 · Feb 2019
Untitled 144
Graff1980 Feb 2019
Better to butter up
that butternut
burnt out building
leaving you feeling
the loss of
previous employment.

She’s bitter because
the ones she loves
are struggling
and after fifteen years
of working for
that bread store
they don’t have
work for her anymore.

So, she’s broke
and looking
for someone
who will hire
an old lady
cause living ain’t free
in a capitalistic society
and she has to eat
she could really use some bread.

Instead, she gets to stress
as she undresses
to go to bed
she gets to apply
for unemployment.
335 · Sep 2015
Anchor
Graff1980 Sep 2015
I am a ship
Stripped bare
Sails lost
No longer flailing there
The ocean beckons
And I cannot enter
Stranded
No port or anchor
To hold me anywhere

A song plays
I remember a sweet girl
Someone I loved
Someone who left

A bird sings
and I recall other things
Grandpa’s binoculars
The campground
All the sounds

Memories tare at me
Scare me
But there I be
Pirated painfully
Loving a past
That will not return to me

Perhaps I was mistaken
Shaken by my sorrow
Now I know
Pain is my anchor
Holding me still
Till the weight
Drowns me
335 · Nov 2018
What Is The Value Of Life
Graff1980 Nov 2018
Is it relative
to the struggle
to live
that worked
its way
from all
the epic yesterdays,
each generation
passing dna,
each saga
set in stone
by the sages
who remember?

Is it based
on the formula
of hourly wages
times the time
we put in
constantly working
as a cog in
the machine?

Is it
a product
of relationships
from familial
to all of our
friendships?

Is it
measured
by potential
future achievements?

Or are we just
pounds of flesh
easily discarded,
meat for the factory
cannon fodder,
children to the slaughter?

I wonder,
what is the value of life?
334 · Dec 2014
Untitled May 2014
Graff1980 Dec 2014
She saw love
A false shadow
A glimmering reflection
Rippling in the pond
Aphrodite’s arrows
Flying ten times faster than sparrows
Through narrow vessels
Of flowing blood
Heated expressions
Beating breath and perspiration
Matching feet for destination
Fated end to mend the broken spirit
Clear the essence of those who fear it
She chose the illusion
For the alternative was agony
And she could no longer bare it
334 · Feb 2019
Untitled 125
Graff1980 Feb 2019
Those broken bodies
are fractured forms
fallen from
the ravages of war.

Former friends
fermented in
the vinegar
of vile violence.

Their depravity depends
on the whims
of more wicked men
and women
who spend
lives like bitcoin.
334 · May 2016
I Bleed Poetry For You
Graff1980 May 2016
For you I bleed poetry
As the red depths flow from my wrists
Words that strive and persist
To touch your heart
Mastering metaphorical starts
That drain as I strain
To purge pain from my brain
Passion shortens the strings of my life
But fate can wait because I am a fire alive
I bleed poetry for you
Scratching the deep dark wounds
Exposing the scars that used to keep me bound
Until the light of expression was found
This journey can hurt like a knife in the eye
But that pain is the juice that helps me to write
I bled for you, fed on truths to help you through
And when I cease to do what I do
That will be the day when you know
That the shadow of life has been expunged from my soul
Remember, I loved you with poetry
333 · Dec 2014
Beyond The Hill
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Beyond the hill
That’s shaded still
By oak trees
And daffodils
By stone statues
Of a strange stature
Where children
Mature to dust
We will meet
As we must

Beyond the bay
Past yesterday’s
Rising waves
Foaming froth
And your neighborhood
Parking lot
We will meet as we
Always did

Beyond the night
Past the dawn
Where secrets
Still belong
We will die
As we always do
Some for others
But me for you
333 · Mar 2019
Untitled
Graff1980 Mar 2019
Lonely we imagine
that love is an
elusive dragon
dragging us
from the corners of
shaded chambers.
Eyes flashing danger,
as breaths of ember
threaten to render
our tender flesh
to cinders.
333 · Jan 2016
Of Love Inspired By Friends
Graff1980 Jan 2016
I am a child of light and love
Stuck in a rut of emotional stuff
Drowning deeply in the darkness I see
The pain that infected me
The rage that was enacted upon
My innocent form
The violence that continues
The ignorance that persist
Sees my sorrows deepen
Caverns open ready to swallow me

Yet I aspire to be of love
To speak love
To act love
To be kind
And gentle

A rose without a thorn
Despite the storm
I am the fluid form
Only fulfilled by acts of kindness
Though life rejects this heart
I yearn for the light
While I create in the dark

I am transient, a river
Water flowing against the stream
My schemes are dreams
That see me separated
See me dashed upon the rocks
That wear the shore
And still I charge asking for more
And still I rise to love once more
Till I evaporate alone
A Smokey mist of love
333 · Mar 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Mar 2016
Rules do not make something
Right or wrong
Talking heads do not
Make something
Right or wrong
Fake gods
Do not make
Something
Right or wrong
Traditions
Just because
It was
Always done
Does not make
Something
Right or wrong
Your law
Does not make
Something
Right or wrong
332 · Aug 2015
The Last Kiss
Graff1980 Aug 2015
This is merely a memory, possibly the best one left you see. Time has stripped me of the others. What a wicked bother, however the photo restores the past. Sharp high heel shoes clicking rhythmically through the red brick road. The last true love that I used to know, our tongues intertwined tasting the last sips of the last drips of her cola. Her smell a mixture of musty books and mother nature.
            If I could go back I would rip her from those steps. Instead, I replay the last best kiss that I still miss, out in my head. I feel the warm softness of her moist lips as she pulls me passionately towards the steps. I remember her tightly toned waist. I retrace her hips with my fingers; making ghostly air shapes.
            This is the best and worst picture I have. That young man does not know what will happen yet. Life has not crushed his hope for love. Her eyes are still a deep celestial mass sparkling hazel, swimming with more grace than all of space has to offer.
            This is just my journal. That wet spot beneath the line where our tongues intertwined is just a salty drip. The last time I saw her my hands were sliding across the slick siding of the train as it rolled away. However, this is just my past, a memory that will fade as fast as I do.        
            I should have lept aboard. We should have danced on the train’s carpeted floor. We should have watched the towns pass by like our lives. The photo is black and white but I wish it was a colored, because I can’t recall if the parallel line on the side were black, blue, or a green hue.
            A distant whistle blows, as another metal monster rumbles through my memory. A few miles down the line metal crushes metal, glasses crunches, screams are muffled by the chaos in the distance.
            I rewind the memory back to the beginning, focusing on the last kiss.
332 · Dec 2015
Say Love
Graff1980 Dec 2015
They say love
Is the ultimate drug

They say love
Will give you enough
Of a buzz
Because love
Is a chemical rush

I say love
Is just an excuse to get ******
Just a dream for a nut
Cause I am a dreaming nut
I am a sucker for that thing

We say love to our lovers
If you know what I mean
332 · Aug 2019
Untitled 260
Graff1980 Aug 2019
You come to me
from miles away,
with tears and congestion
interrupting our
our cellphone connection.

You open the line
with your confession,
expecting me to consecrate
the mistakes you commemorate
as we spend hours commiserating
the vile man you should hate.

You cry that you are afraid
you will never be loved that way,
like the man who drugged and abused you,
the one who put you through hell.

You tell me that, that predator
loves more than anyone
whilst admitting all of
the horrible **** he has done.

You break my heart
into shattered splinters
of self-doubt and recrimination
wondering why you struggle to maintain
a relationship with a man
who causes you so much pain
while I just want to take care of you.
332 · Nov 2015
Untitled
Graff1980 Nov 2015
The clouds curl behind shadow birds
Fleeing just in time to miss the summer rain
Leaving me to see to the softened earth
Leaving me to see all the greys
Dull earth shades of brown
Colors lose themselves
The ground is less disturbed than me
I want the rain
I beg for pneumonia
Just an excuse to quit it all
And end this long week
To never speak again
So I let the coat get soaked
I let the button up shirt
Stick moistly to my body
I let the pants wrinkle up all wet
I let everyone leave
As the rain washes
What is left of me
I just sit still as stone
On the grey monument
Till the water in my eyes
Is just tears from the sky
Till all the paper in my pocket disintegrates
Till the ground starts to swallow me
Like it swallowed her
Never fully digesting
Just weighing me down
From this side of death
Till it all stops
And trudges back
Slipping and backing into my skin
Feeling other emotions again
Heading home I start to sneeze
Smiling inside I beg please
Let this sneeze be the death of me
332 · Apr 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Apr 2016
Deep are the eyes that devour my soul
Soft onyx surrounded by emerald lightning
Hypnotic expressions of ****** obsessions
Lips grasp, mouth slurps, tongue sends shivers
But the eyes cause quivers of climatic fury
I gush with lust’s completion
Moving with unparalleled muscle memory
I toss her fair form roughly against the bed
Rip the last barrier from her body
And lap up desires sweet juices
Till she to finds completions
Then I make her come again
332 · Nov 2023
Untitled
Graff1980 Nov 2023
If life is a show,
it is one that
goes with the flow,
growing and retreating
with the seeding
of insights
we are receiving.

Rivers shift, feeding
bigger bodies.
Life is change,
but no one
really taught me
how to accept
that reality.

People come
and go
in and out
of our lives
and periphery,
occasionally
coming in for
a reentry,
then fading
into background
static.

Life is for the living
to grab it,
because death
will not grant us
any grand reprieve,
so all I need
is what I see
to go on existing
whilst being me.

-2021
332 · Aug 2019
Untitled
Graff1980 Aug 2019
I’m so tired and sore,
don’t want to go to
work anymore,
but if I have to
can I come in at four
and leave an hour before
my regularly scheduled
night shift ends.
332 · Jul 2015
Untitled
Graff1980 Jul 2015
I am stealing my last breath
Working well until my death
Sitting still and still I tell myself
This is what I am looking for
Kissing, touching, and loving for
Savoring and wanting more
Like Cupid’s last crust of bread
I am brown and dry but still rich tasting
Basking, basting, and baking
With all that delicious love
I take myself to bed instead of
Staying awake with my racing brain
Fulfilling my last best dressed wish
I rest to lay my aching head
Softly sinking in a red pillow
Till they find me dead in my bed
332 · Jan 2015
What Life Is
Graff1980 Jan 2015
Life is a cold fusion cancer
A perpetual engine of disaster
Blasting stray rays of pain
Drive by bullets that wander
Too far and close to be ok
A bacteria devouring the planet
A sentence to death
For merely existing
And all it leaves me wishing
Is for one more day
332 · Sep 2015
On The Otherside
Graff1980 Sep 2015
Oceans part each stolen heart
forgotten boat with wooden oars
that never hopes to revisit their shores.
Waves running to catch nothing
reflect the infinite star lit sky.

Lovers leap to their watery death
risking on a feeling for something they left;
A sparkle, a dream, some sort of remembrance,
hope that love will finally give us
the peace we were always denied.

Because our love wanders lonely
sand in toes exactly where who know,
singing sad songs somewhere on the other side.
332 · Jul 2015
Untitled
Graff1980 Jul 2015
The tension is always there
Cold steel coiled ready to rumble
Muscles strained to the limit
Life and work pushing
Till the flesh bulges and breaks
A ****** bulb busting
Bursting with life’s juices
The truth is we don’t need this
Happiness is achievable
The weird web we weave
To shape our destiny
Is not a trap to clap back
And smash happy facts
But to take the mind
To greater times
Traveling so fast
That the old corrupted institution
Warp and finally collapse
Leaving a space for us to make a better way
331 · Dec 2014
The Losing
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Her eyes are blank like glass stones
And I have no words to soften them.
Panic and pain paint her visage gravely.
I think she can still see me,
But in her insanity nothing registers.
Decrepit vessel of lost wisdom;
Empty orbs with no more vision,
This is worse than death.
It is a slow loss with creeping expectations.
It is a deep cost that clears my pockets,
And empties my reserve of will.
This is grief in the eyes of the giver,
And grief in the eyes of the receiver;
Sorrow for the lost and for the ones
Who are bound to leave her.
In short breaths this is goodbye.
331 · Nov 2018
Untitled 54
Graff1980 Nov 2018
Aint' it a shame
I hear them complain
as clouds of smoke
circle their faces.

Tight jacket teens
glare at me
dangerously.

Tallest of the bunch
growls angrily,
"stop looking at me
puke face."

I turn away
but not fast enough
cause mister
tough stuff
has something more
in mind you see.

Stomping over all
indignantly,
he yells
"Hey,
you ignoring me?"

I try to move
faster than him,
but a shove in my back
makes it clear
this is a race
I won't win.

So, I face him.
Two years older,
might as well be
twenty-three
to my early teens.

He pushes me
back up against a tree,
then goes in to punch
me in the face,
but my face
does not remain
in that unsafe place.
So, he hits the tree.

Cursing loudly
with a mangled hand
slows him down,
but doesn't stop his friends.
They follow me
down the street
and beat me till
I am out of wind.

This is were
this poem ends.
There is no
sweet revenge.
Time goes on.
I don't see them again,
and this becomes something
distorted and fictionalized
in these poetic lines.
331 · Sep 2015
Untitled Poem 2015 March
Graff1980 Sep 2015
I cannot be held accountable
For the sins of my ancestry
For the mistakes of history
I do need for him to bleed
Stuck up like an ornament on Calvary
No crucified Christmas tree
To baptize or inspire me
Violence does not negate violence
A slaughtered lamb is only good to eat
Leave me be and I will take
Responsibility for my own actions
And the ripples that flow from those
So called mortal sins
331 · Oct 2015
Confused Nursery Rhymes
Graff1980 Oct 2015
Jack be nimble but he wasn’t that quick
Licked the tip of the candlestick
Didn’t see the point of jumping it
If it might burn his little ****

Humpty Dumpty sat on the step
Staring while mumbling to himself
Not even certain what he was saying
Just praying that he wasn’t cracking up

Little boy blue got broken in two
Left in his heartache to sit and stew
Cause he didn’t know what to do
Just another nursery rhyme who got confused
331 · Jul 2015
Untitled 2 December 2014
Graff1980 Jul 2015
I never leave but live to see
Life play out on a computer screen
All the beauty all the pain
Put on display
Brown wet sand
Then curvy lines of foam
Foot prints scattered across the beach
Part borrowed memory
Stirring the old ones left in me
Murky water
Small pool of cool non-sparkling
H two o
And tiny fish poke and nip
My family and friends
But never bite me
331 · Jun 2019
Untitled 229
Graff1980 Jun 2019
The consumer in me
can barely see
the carnivores
who creeps
in our society.

The pushers
of a variety
of sugar filled
insanity.

They scramble
to protect
their sugar investments
to our detriment.

So more of us
fall to the savagery
of sugary
related afflictions
far more fatal
and prolific
then the opioid addictions.
330 · Feb 2018
Supposedly
Graff1980 Feb 2018
Supposedly,
I was wrought
with jealousy.

Justifying,
allegedly,
believing
that it was
owed to me,

cause I was better,
kinder, smarter
working harder
to prove my love.

In reflection
I refuse to admit it,
I’d prefer
just to forget it,

but supposedly
I am to smart
to fool myself.
330 · Jul 2015
I Chose The Night
Graff1980 Jul 2015
It is the sorrow and the pleasure of solitude
The agony and ecstasy and I chose it
The silver sparkling black and dark blue hue
That night is a lightless wonder of reflection
The silent searches for meaning in space
Spinning on a rotating wet rock in awe
Feeling like nothing bouncing between
The hopelessness and the grandeur
Of living in this mental construct we call humanity

Ending on the bending of light as it pierces
The atmosphere from the sun to here
Blasting space rays in all those silly light years
Makes me more morose while the comatose
Doze in a dreaming state while I wait for them to awake
Awe struck by the dumb luck we have to exist now

The irony is that I am alone and together
Disconnected and wired in to the minds of men
The lines of time we measure things with
Flow towards into and around me and you

I chose the night in which to live my life
Perhaps a lonely choice to make
Perhaps I made a grave and terrifying mistake
But it’s mine to make and I repeat it every day
Why change you can have the light
So adiu sweet dreams to you till dawn
I will see the eve and we can meet in the in-between
330 · Jun 2015
Newly Prey
Graff1980 Jun 2015
Cut the silky stretched string
Till the crawling spider screams
And the flies sing fluttering
Beaming with unrelenting joy
As their eight legged nightmare
Goes tumbling down there
Then haggardly staggers away
In terror and agony
Feeling what it is like to be
The prey
330 · Feb 2021
Untitled 675
Graff1980 Feb 2021
There’s a multitude
of other dudes,
who look like me
but do not do
the exact same thing
or have a matching
attitude;

Parallels
played out in
lyrical fashion,
as I sit napping.
I hear them yapping
passing something
unseen
as strange beings
from different realities.

It’s not mimicry,
or fancy imagery
that I see
but endless possibilities
of what ifs
that will never be.

An athlete,
teacher, painter,
preacher, dancer,
fittest novelist,
world traveler
who volunteers
to help the suffering.

Such strange daydreams
that sometimes even leans
towards more fantastic things,
like a superhero or an
eager young
training cadet
trying to be
in Starfleet
on Star Trek,
trying to make
first contact,
and get to spaces
we haven’t even
imagined yet.

Of all the alternate
dimensions,
that float out and in
by miles, light years
or even mere inches,

the one that never fails
to stir my strange inner self,
is the one where I get my wish
meeting that finest fairytale figure,
that most beautiful myth.

Looking in the eyes of my
truest companion
after struggling for so long to find them,
and finally settling down with
my soulmate.
330 · Apr 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Apr 2016
I used to dream of
endless M.C. Escher stairways
that led to quiet rooms
with no one in them
329 · Aug 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Aug 2016
You cannot guard your heart
against the grief of loss
for very long.

Cause the pain will creep
while you’re asleep
and find you
waking in tears.

Even years
after the conscious pain
has lain dormant
a sound, a scent,
a sight will send
you back in again
to the place
you hadn’t been
in a long time.

The mind finds
ways to make you remember
whether you want to or not.
The only way to the lose the pain
is to die.
329 · Dec 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Dec 2016
In my dream
darkness screamed
as the hand of gravity
compressed my brain
causing shades of pain
to become
acrylic calligraphy
cutting across
the constellations.

Swollen stars swirled
in the madness
spitting out
burning gasses
of orange while
purple, pink
and green mists
spun on in
spiraling galaxies.

Death was
the lines of
crimson slowly
descending
finding
untraveled roads
diverging down
the outer limits
of my face
as tv familiars
stared at the horror
of my tortured
space obsessed
cerebellum
329 · Aug 2017
Untitled
Graff1980 Aug 2017
How I enjoy these lost late nights playing poet under moonlight.
Each word a celebration of my wit and confusion. I am blessed by the fathers and mothers of my youth whom all knew as poets to, from Dickenson on to Poe that shaped my love and helped me grow. This is as it always was a written remembrance in love. To every poem and every story thank you for your radiant glory.

-2011
329 · Sep 2017
Untitled
Graff1980 Sep 2017
It is a wonderland
of wondering eyes.
Strange people
walk on the red tile floor
to explore
the doors
to artists’ perceptions
and projected expressions.

White furry feet,
following first
my eyes find falling fury
like a solar explosion
of violent ginger on yellow orange.

Then slightly concealed
I see a surreal reflection of religious will,
as a beautiful female body
lay limp, ready to be baptized
by the appropriated
white guy version of Jesus.

My favorite thus far
is green vertigo
a swirling portal of
multi-colored abstraction
guarded by ruby tinted sentinels
on either side.

Further down the rabbit hole
me and Alice go
to white rabbit dress
by Felicia Olin.

Till, ticking clocks
cannot delay
and I must redraft
this poem about
the art on display,
and save the rest
for another day.
329 · Sep 2015
Coping
Graff1980 Sep 2015
Bullets and bombs explode. Screams sear his tired ears. With every explosion the young man flinches. He is only twenty something but he wears the whole human history of pain. Every age line creasing to cover the scars on his face. Lines linked by years of abuse, which are mirrored by mental scars.
The voice in the back of his head says “bite a bullet, hell better make it two,”
The computer screen flickers with horrible YouTube videos. Each one marking some new or old tragedy.
“The trick is to turn away before you see too much.” He thinks.
Photos lay scattered across his desk. Little vignettes of human horrors. A homeless man here. An abused child there. Two war zone pics that depicts the tragedy of human ingenuity. Modern warfare swimming in gore and sorrow.
The voice in the back of his head says. “Make sure you double click.”
To the left lay a stack of stories stapled together. Some are fantastic works of fantasy. They portray a wondrous worlds.   Most are darker portraits that paint painful truths. There is a story about a lynching, a police beating, a dark society crumbling under the weight of fear and hatred. Tons of fictions that reflects this dark world, all his.
The voice chuckles, “don’t bother with a note, your writing says enough.”
“The trick is to find something to laugh about.” He says out loud.
A fake chortles spews from his lips, followed by a stupid sneer.
“Doesn’t work does it?” The voice laughs.
The young man bites his tongue. Smashing taste buds and drawing dark smears of blood. Merely a temporary distraction, but it feels good to him. Drips of warm crimson pool in his mouth. He swishes it around like some sick salt water gurgle. Then spits dark blood laced mucus into perfectly white porcelain sink. The red snot sinks slowly down till it disappears into the drain. Leaving only remnants of a terrible taste and slight pain in his mouth.
The voice cries” Blow your ******* brains out, you stupid ****.”
The man laughs, as a stream of stress related **** drains down his drawers.
“I can’t.” He cries.
“Why not?” the voice insists. “Just ******* do it. This world ain’t gonna get any better.”
Tears **** his worn out skin. Life has aged him harshly. Still, something new breaks. A crack cuts through the fuzzy haze. An awkward smile forces its way across his face.
He closes the Compaq computer killing the video, and bringing pure stillness to the room.
“You know for a voice in my head. You sure are ******* stupid. Which makes me stupid too I guess.”
“Why?” The Voice replies.
“Because” the smile widens becoming manic “I don’t own a ******* gun.” He laughs. “Hell I don’t even own my own marbles.”
He slumps down on the bed. Two hours of random racing thoughts keep him awake. Then the cool release of slumber finally hits. His sleep is interspersed with nightmares. Twelve hours later a calmer less worn man awakens. He sticks his tongue out and raspberries the desk.
“I am going for a walk” he says with a saner smile.
Somewhere behind him he hears a chilling voice say. “See you soon.”
328 · Dec 2014
Power The Flame
Graff1980 Dec 2014
Power is a living flame
Seeking its’ own expansion
Devouring all in its’ path
Corpulent beast
Of infinite hunger
Caring not what carnage
Burns in its’ wake
power
328 · Sep 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Sep 2016
How strange it is to dream
That we could meet in-between
In some romantic scene
Existing outside reality
Living in a bubble world
A place where neither extremes meet
Where there is no soul deforming opulence
Or in comparison no division
That leads to chilling forms of poverty

If we could dance in love
Away from the ways of hate and greed
Fulfill the need to feed the hungry
Cure all the disease
And seed hope
For each generation after

If there was more laughter
And fewer tears
Till only natural sorrows remained here
What a sweet romantic world that would be
328 · Feb 2016
January’s City
Graff1980 Feb 2016
A pair of stacks smoking spears pierce the cerulean sky. The city suffocates under the day’s cold dry expectations. It is so crowded that they stack parking lots upon each other. Thick cement streets that spin and bend in a DNA spiral; leaving the masses dizzy and punch drunk tired. The population is more condensed then a can of tomato soup and half as blushed for being rushed. Meters tick a quarters time away. Trains and truck startle the bleary eyed workers awake. Traffic taking them to places they do not want to go, but still going to dam slow. Parking lots fill with the mad mechanical masses. Zombies stumble from the coffee houses seeking their steaming caffeine cure. Skin tones and gender identities blend into a strange shifting blur, becoming a humming human factory. Homes become ghost towns where no sound is found. Until the day’s end finds lost children of all ages returning to their dead eyed dreams. Bodies bound to sleep and keep putting up with the same ground hog’s day. A parade permanently put on repeat.
328 · May 2016
I'm In Deep @*&# Now
Graff1980 May 2016
Hear me now for I am bound to offend
True poets and artist should not have to amend
For telling the truth is a painful burden
They poisoned Socrates in Athens
But in Salem the Protestants would have burned him
If history serves as witness
To the actions of the witless
I think I recall
Some of the greatest crimes of all
Were perpetrated by the men of cloth
From fascist to capitalist
Faithful extremist to creationist
Men betrayed the word
Or they misinterpreted what they heard
We know that Zeus and Hercules were merely tales of fiction
And that the stories Thor and Odin were of similar tradition
So tell me in this moment of musing
Why does the ark seem so confusing
How many animals can you fit on a boat
Before the predator is at your throat
How big would the fish story have to be
Before you realize you have been deceived
One woman and man are fore bearers of all
With only two sons they must have been an incestuous cabal
Then there is free will or so I recall
But that can’t be the case if God knows it all
In my confusion I must be mistaken
For the Ten Commandments can’t be literally taken
Thou shalt not covet **** or steal
So I wonder how you would feel
If the people who say that these are their rules
Surveyed your land, said it was okay
To pick and choose which laws they would obey
Then they proceeded to **** and to maim
Anyone who got in they way of their claim
How many lies can you find in a book that man has wrote
This will not win me any friends
But by challenging old ideals the search for truth begins
And for that I will never apologize
But when they come to burn me at the stake I will probably run and
hide
328 · Aug 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Aug 2016
The silence says so much.
Nothingness scratching at
my stream of consciousness.

Valued for the vacuum
that ***** the soul
from the bottom of my shoes
giving me sapphire shades
of sorrow,

Velvet and suede
silk stalkings
that float, fading away,
as I dream of filling the silence
with love,

But like always
there is no one there.
328 · Mar 2016
Nightmare Machine
Graff1980 Mar 2016
It was on the digital screen
That I saw the children scream
Mouths contorted
Faces distorted
In stainless steel poses
Of death and destruction

I saw flowers burnt up
Showers of shrapnel
Splitting skin
Sinking in
Deeper and deeper

Colors fading
Pictures saying
Everything in silence

Limbs desecrated
Face craters collapsing
The hopes and hearts
Of all who saw

The broken buds bursting
The ground bleeding
Gas, and red rubble

My computer became
A nightmare machine
But I could not turn off
That dreadful thing
While others
Had their dreams violated
By such horrific scenes
328 · Mar 2017
Untitled
Graff1980 Mar 2017
It is cold outside
and a small figure hides
trying to keep warm.

There is a fellow
with a cardboard sign
not preaching about
the end of times
just trying find a dime
to eat.

There is another guy
trying to get by
on his minimum wage
nine to five.

There is a foreigner.
There is somebody’s wife.
There are a ton of struggles
in this transient life.

Do not look deep
into those dark eyes
for if you peer inside
seeing past
the blast of
black and white
if you see
another person
you might have to become
a decent human being.
327 · Apr 2015
He Wanted To Die
Graff1980 Apr 2015
He says he wants to die
And asks if I would try
To commit suicide with him

But inside
This is a cry
For a reason to live
Not a reason to die

Every time we hang out
We ended up talking about
How he wants it to end
And how as his friend
I should join him

But inside
This is a cry
For a reason to live
Not a reason to die

After six or seventy times
Of telling me he wants to die
And that we should go together
The rope snaps
The leather tether
Holding my tongue
Comes undone
I spout you go first
He replies
*******
And never again
Asks me to
Die with him

Cause inside
This is a cry
For a reason to live
Not a reason to die

Many years later
I will find out
The truth about how he feels
The bottle and the pills
The anguish that kills
It turns out I was mistaken
Now his life is taken
And I’ll spend my days
Looking for a friend
Who will help me on my way
327 · Mar 2018
Untitled
Graff1980 Mar 2018
How fast my favored fuel
of rage burns,

pushing me to
ascend higher then
most humans do,

but not in the pursuit
of materiel wealth.

Instead, I prevail,
pushing myself
in the pursuit of
a better me,

channeling
all the things
I see and seek
into the art
that leaks
from my
poetic veins,
while most of you
barely change.

The sun sets
on your repeated
madness,
as you use drugs
to dull this
unsatisfying ache,
seeking simple pleasures
from the things
that others make.

As I strike
the golden core
of who I am
and who I seek to be
you are drenched
in the misery
of your sick
complacency,
rushing to fill an
ever growing hole,
with more
and more stuff.
327 · Apr 2015
Untitled
Graff1980 Apr 2015
Sparkles in the distance
Partial to our own existence
We are human
Martians
Venusian
We are creatures
Reaching
Searching
Beseeching
The universe
For reasons
327 · Mar 2016
Untitled
Graff1980 Mar 2016
It’s the age of digital wonders.
The world cast before our feet
to be reeled in and gutted,
plunging further down the hole
Of personally preferred biases.
All the information ready to be devoured.
Generations scouring the abstract
for solid connections
but the ones and zeroes
cannot touch a stranger.
The distances conquered
cannot yield flesh upon flesh communication.
There is no oxytocin connection.
Instead, all the files of pain
are relegated to the spam box.
Humanity is filtered in favor of
cheap proclamations of internet love
and the once wondrous round world
becomes flat again.
The sun revolves around the earth.
Four fingers forget opposable thumbs
and we never evolve to be better
than we are.
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