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Graff1980 Aug 2015
She broke her own heart
For a love that was not even fit enough
To bare her weight
To stare and say
Sweet promises for today
The feather fell
Flying lightly in the breeze
Cold as ice
Her skin was twice
As heavy as death
Her sorrow was as deep
As the Marianas Trench
Left her drenched in despair
The places where
She put her hopes for love’s return
That love once spurned
Could be restored
Instead her tumblr is erased
Her facebook is replaced
With a blank face
And old messages
Left unanswered
Graff1980 Feb 2015
You’ve been lied to
They spied on you
But that’s not half the ****
They used to and still do
To my brown brothers
Graff1980 Jul 2018
I seek peace
in observing
all things
that flourish
around me.

There are greens
and deeper greens
galvanized
by daylight
to a shimmering effect.

But every drop
of coolant,
or subtle variation of sound,
every unexpected vibration
makes me anxious,
because I am hyper aware
that my safety will disappear
because it is an illusion.

The earth beneath my feet
has been dried and bleached
to the lightest brown possible.

I am still seeking stillness
but my roommate’s presence
is a jagged intrusion,
with irregular outburst
of unpredictable rage.

There is the sound of birds
whistling all around me
unperturbed
by the train I heard
in the distance.

I make it to work,
in time to observe
smiling stranger’s
who want to converse
with me,
and despite all distraction
there is a certain satisfaction
to that human interaction.
It is a peaceful moment.
Graff1980 Oct 2021
Poet’s passions
are prevalent
but lesser men
classify them
as deadly sins
denying the
black ink within
that boils to the brim,
forcing her or him,
to take and bend
words to their own
passionate whims.
Graff1980 Dec 2015
As usual I lay the groundwork
Fix the broken stitches
Wipe away the sick skin
That burns and twitches
Clearing saltine tears

Being there for all my friends
From the beginning
To bend then send in
All that hard loving

Finding that I am forgotten
Diaphanous specter
And in gratitude
My better angels

Forget me to
It’s nothing new
Graff1980 Dec 2019
Some say that he is horrible.
I say that she is adorable,
and that their judgements
are deplorable.

Cause despite how she is transitioning
there is an inner beauty still shining,
all that outer stuff is purely aesthetic
all that hatred is absurdly pathetic.

I like her to be
feminine or masculine
as she pleases.
Graff1980 Sep 2017
It was long ago
when I wept
with the wind swept
children of
human wreckage,

When bare feet
felt soft soil
and muddy pools
squished themselves
between my toes,

When dark dreams
danced dangerously
inside of me
pushing
death tolls
and grim reaper schemes,

When family
was something imagined
and love was a desert,
or a half empty silver flagon
with dragon’s flames,
fiery liquid burning my
already parched lips,

When the church
claimed my soul
until I finally said
hell no,

When in vain
I tried to explain
a stranger’s pain
to another stranger,

When I slept
and woke in tears
or sat in the dark hallways
because I had no home,

Though many years
have proceeded old pains
the child of humanity
still remains
with red veins
ready to be ripped
to bleed out our shared pain,
stored in the library of my brain
and written
upon these crimson
stained poetry pages.
Graff1980 Aug 2015
If I disappeared
The universe
Would not mourn me
The loss would be
Fractionally
Unfathomable
I only matter in
This small circle
Of human influence
Graff1980 Aug 2015
I got no boat to row away with
No time to float and say that this
Is a dreaming play date

I got no plane to hit the skies with
To fly high in the night life
Letting those clouds kiss the tips
Of my wings

But I got me and a little bit of
Daydreaming space tripping stuff
Lying in bed
But in my head
I am everywhere
Graff1980 Dec 2014
I listen to the old songs
And they strip me of the distance
Chip at the time between me
And a younger version of me
Tug me back like a time machine
I want to but I never scream
Just let the dull ache of longing
Wash violently over my being
Like a system restore on my computer
Restoring old feelings
It’s nostalgia and agony
Wrapped up in my memory
Graff1980 Apr 2016
We are a wall of lost children.
Tiny fingers fixing
the broken pieces
Of humanities innocence
mending her compassion,
sewing the stiches of
goodwill back into
her being.
Until goodness can be seen.
Till the stars look down
flaring with pride
to see our brighter side.
Children of the cosmos
fulfilling our purpose.
Graff1980 Nov 2017
I am trapped,
touched by
caffeinated anxiety.

The room
does not close in
or spin
like in
the movies,

but the
open air
night sky
beckons me,
almost beggingly,
to rush out
and breathe deeply.

Nothing soothes me.
Everything pushes
and consumes me.

Tightness
and chest pains,
this stress maims
my fatigued brain
making me wonder
if I am insane.
Graff1980 Dec 2016
They are multinational mongrels,
entities who feel entitled to
***** and grab all public interests
with their Atlas hands;
Claiming they hold the world
bearing the burden of heavy clouds.
With the hunger of Galactus
they gobble up our well-earned income
demolishing what little capitol we have left.
These creatures of mythic proportions
should find themselves opaque, existing in a state
of enforced transparency
so they cannot encroach upon
Our so-called democratic liberty.
But those corporations wear
the wrong long dark robes.
Instead of transparency
we found them enshrouded in
cloaks of offshore invisibility
concealing their ill-conceived crimes
from the eyes of our world wide
human community.
Graff1980 Sep 2019
I am as fit as a fractured fiddle,
with my wooden cords galore
that don’t make a sound anymore,
and a neck like wet cardboard
that is ready to fold and fall
on the bathroom floor.
Graff1980 Sep 2017
The Earth is art. A production of natural forces projected to projects beyond our basic comprehension.
Graff1980 Jun 2016
Stand silent stand still
Don’t think and don’t feel
Don’t fidget at all
And you will get paid
Security shift ****
At this bank
Graff1980 Feb 2019
It is a ****** battlefield
that does not yield
any healthy crops
just plants dark thoughts;
Seeding seething pain.
Graff1980 May 2018
I drive at night
and my eyes find
dark water that reflects
and stretches
carnival lights
beyond their normal
lines.
Graff1980 May 2015
The process is not perfected
Yet I place each word
As if it was
My perfect selection
Looking for the perfection
But only if it is fast
Only if I can rush through
Stringing word to
Each other
A passenger
In a car
That someone else is driving
And I can’t wait to see where it goes
Graff1980 Jan 2016
I gathered the ladders
One after another I strung them together
Planted their base
Like a bed of wooden flowers
And set them up towards the heavens
Till the top pierced
The white billowy clouds
And when I got to the top
The clouds didn’t stop
They went on like
A white winter wasteland
But I never found the place
Where the human race
Settles after they die
Graff1980 Mar 2018
We are citizens,
victims of a system
of stratification.

We use fiction
to relate
us to them,
women and men,
social programming
for the progress
to do more then
just began again.

While the filthy fat cats
are raking it in
doing more then
making a killing
by selling weapons
made to ****
foreign children,

making profits
off the violence
while calling us
immoral
criminals.

So, we use fantasy
to cross the breach,
break the cranium
so you can see
reality
through
that fictional brew,

and gain compassion
from the stories you read
or the movies you see.

This is the time
to select a brave few
who may follow you
through
Graff1980 Mar 2017
The ocean ebbed from
her saltwater sea green eyes.
Shuddering breaths sounded
strangely inconsistent patterns.

The moon’s glow pushed her
porcelain face to
loveliness’s limit.
Anguish lit
all that was curved.
Soft lips pursed in pain.
Her long hair was locked in
a lazy perm.

I only looked once, ashamed
to embarrass to ask,
I let her sorrow pass
as she walked away,

Ephemeral beauty shivering
two days away from
an even colder form.
Graff1980 Jan 2017
I don’t know how to be normal and most times I don’t care
I could read for hours and contemplate the ups and downs of whats fair
But sometimes I feel a spark of despair
A deep dark longing or apathy beyond compare
Sometimes I feel like death would be grand
Who gives a **** if the normals wouldn’t understand
I get tired of this life and all of its pain
Of the suffering existence is a trifle insane
To walk through this life which is so **** mundane
What do I have to show for this trip but a broken heart and overactive brain
Graff1980 Mar 2021
I’m not a prodigal prodigy,
just a product of
the poetry I read
and love.
Graff1980 Dec 2017
Looking back
is like biting my tongue
till the blood
trickles just a bit.

It is like picking
a painful scab
and letting all that
little red
slowly slide
down the side
of your itchy arm.

It is like a melody
of soft melancholia,
a deep and dangerous
cavern full of
things that crawl
but never **** you.

It is all ages past,
all broken moons,
all crescent shapes,
that come closer,
to cut you.

It is one thousand
self-inflicted wounds
pursued for the sake
of some unknown goal.
Graff1980 Aug 2017
As a member of this limited species I am a bigger idiot than most. My heart yearns for a better world even though I know it is on a sad slow but rapidly hastening decline. So I spit weird verses out into the void hoping humanity will hear it and listen. Yep I am a huge *******. Most people are to egotistical to admit their idiocy. however, I believe that accepting our stupidity opens us up to learn more and not be trapped in the old style of thinking. Peace, love, and props to you all
Graff1980 Aug 2015
The brown leaves curl in
Response to winters cold winds
Dry grass is frozen
Green brown and stiffening
While patches of ice
Hijack the sidewalk
And make tripping fools
Of those who are racing through
Graff1980 Apr 2016
I'm not scared of strangers. I'm afraid of forgetting how to be kind.
Graff1980 Nov 2016
If skin color, place of birth, politics, or religions is what separates you from a stranger. Then remember your stranger was once a baby, has lost or will lose someone, and they will cry as you do. They will walk awake in mourning as will you, as you do, because they are human to. Syrian, Republican, Dominican, Cuban, American, Conservative, Liberal, Democrat, Atheist, Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, and all variations between and around these distinctions are part of our human family.
Graff1980 Aug 2017
Please do not let your objective mind, identity, or will be subverted by political or religous ideas. These distinctions that seperate us are merely illusions perpetuated by those in power.
Graff1980 Dec 2016
Come forth to dance my fairy kin
For long have I grieved the loss of innocence
Fluttering wings of fanciful dreams
Where children and cherubs sing
Where teddy bears parade and play
Till the picnic prepared is displayed
and they can devour delicious honey treats
Where goblins conceal themselves admiring
The playful Pegasus’s acrobatic flying
Where guardians with soft pearly feathered wings
Protect all young and saintly human beings
Where spirits offer solace to combat the grief
Of knowing that all things living will be deceased
It is a land of legends, fairytales, and myths
Where only children, fools, and dreamers visit
And I miss it dearly
For in adulthood I have been many years
Separated from that fantastic realm
Graff1980 Aug 2015
Is it sad that life lacks the poetic flare
But that is only if you are blind
For I find the flare is everywhere
In the chipped white painted cement ***
Were dead plants lay to rot
In the lightly faded red brick buildings
That businesses reside in
But over head in night times
One can see the light shines
And finds a friendly face
Here perhaps those cracked sidewalks
Were children use to jump and say
That is the way we crack our mothers back
The root that saw such sidewalks rise
Slowly pushing out of the earth until
The sidewalks wears a rising crack
And that is only the nonliving things
That catch my fancy
Wait till you see how nature inspires me
Graff1980 Apr 2017
Please,
do not let
the words fail me
or vice a versa.

I need a verse to
give the evening
to you
because you deserve
the universe.

I may be tired
but everything inspires
higher creativity
and what I seek
is to gift thee
graciously
with a reality
where you can be
happy.

So as my eyes flutter
falling over
the constant clutter
of humankind.
I hope I find
the precise rhyme
to unlock your mind
so that in time
you can return the favor
bring the flavor later
to be my verbal savior
and inspire my desire
to continue to live and
be a great creator.
Graff1980 Jun 2016
Though I wish it was not
the case
this human race
does not want
an honest human being.

Instead, they want shiny
expensive
status symbols
but all I have to offer
is love and wisdom.
Graff1980 Jul 2017
My brain is a wooden ship
rotting from the outside in.
Till termites chew and tare
leaving more holes then I know
that grow and leak more than words.

I lose nouns and verbs,
more than adjective and adverbs.
Conversations are lost.
All experiences
pleasant and painful
average or terrible
are obscured.

Faces and names slip away
Sinking to the bottom
Of this opaque ocean brain
Then life lets the rushing waves
of time take everything
farther and faster away.
Graff1980 Feb 2018
I drive.
Each night passes by
cold shadows
tell no lies,
by flicker strangely
like specters
dying before me.

The road is mine
and I am its,
possessed by quiet reflections.
Daylight finds
hills that ride
and roll
up and down
all around me.

Stimulants,
set to see me
safely home,
little nicotine sticks,
not actual cigarette
of vapes
but gas station
electronic
devices,
stacked with
lots of caffeine.

Music and podcasts,
audio books
play by to fast,
they never seem to last,
because the drive never ends.

Hotels,
hot showers,
more caffeine
then overtime hours.

Until,
they settle me down
to one worksite
and that rogue
road work life
fades fast behind me.

Part of me misses
the unpredictable madness.
Part of me is grateful
for the stability.
Its healthy
cause I get better sleep.
Now I drive the same route
every **** day,
but I miss the strangeness
of the different roads
I used to take.
Graff1980 Jun 2018
Such a fruitless endeavor,
as this dullness devours
my endless hours.

I sit seeking stale stimulus.
Being used to immediate
gratification,
of the menial mental
*******
type,
I am stumped
by my listless response to
having everything to do
but not wanting to do
anything.

No movies but one
yet to come
stir my passions.

No tv shows
that I stream
or download
get me excited.

No outside adventure
unencumbered
by the once weary winter weather
inspires me
to get up and go.

No books
even garner
random looks.

I am merely
burnt out,
but just for now.
Graff1980 Nov 2016
Like Plath said
“dying is an art”
and though someday
we will all be
masters of such
a sad and sweet artistry
It is an art form
for which I would
happily delay
my graduation day.
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
Graff1980 Jan 2016
I don’t want to fall asleep
Cause death is not that far
From the other side of wakefulness
Graff1980 Mar 2015
I spend my days in an exhausted laden haze
Weariness working on me on several levels
Sapping my will
Snapping at my heels
Weakening my wit
Creating more stress
Retaining more fat
It is not a matter of debate
But a matter of fact
That I state
Aging me rapidly
I am certain most of us
Could use a little less work
And a little more sleep
So I strive to thrive
Not live dead tired inside
Graff1980 Aug 2017
It was an obsession,
illegal possession
of the love drug connection
driving her into
criminal intent.

She assumed by his promises
she owned him
all affection shown him
all ****** gratification
grinding deep into
her chemical brain.

But then came
that chemical pain
rejection
subtraction
from the satisfaction
of knowing with certainty.

Possessing little sanity
she drove metal nails
up and down
the red paint
of his ford truck.

Empowered by passion
she pushed past him
pounding until the
pulpy flesh
of his favorite pet
plastered her nail bat.

It went farther than that.
With a gun to his back
she pierced his heart.
The pumping stopped.
Then she put the barrel
up to her head,
pulled the triggered.
Until, she too was dead;
finally, free from
her obsession.
Graff1980 Mar 2016
Rough wheels run circles
Around a static background
Passing the same horizon
Over and over again
Like some old cartoon
Driving in place
As he races to his next stop
To live unload his next drop
Early bird waiting hours plus
Hoping they can fit him in
So he can hit the road again
Before his electronic log
Locks him down for the day
He brings his paperwork
And waits
He pulls his tandem back
Then waits
Drops his trailer in the door
And waits
Rest stop gas station shower
On the road
Smoke stacks cough up
Black clouds
Yellow lines
Become yellow blurs
Another load down
Another pick up
The road rides him roughly
Home beckons him on
Fifteen hundred miles
To his own bed
Coffee break and **** stop
To clear his head
And the sunset runs seventy miles
An hour
While he pushes seventy-five
Two million miles down
Two million more to end his life
Graff1980 Sep 2017
Morality and ethics are abstract illusions/delusions that are relative to the place and time of ones existence.
Graff1980 Sep 2016
The old tree wears new leaves.
Green things gleaming and moving
dancing like a grass skirt
with the warm whims
of these soft summer winds.
Graff1980 Feb 2018
Do you know how to love shadows
sit in a sick stew of solitary confinement
for a crime you did not commit?

Do you know the feel of someone else’s violence
the stinging lashes, reddening
rage distorting
fury unleashed
by someone who seems
to hate you
as much as they
hate themselves?

Do you know the flinches,
the constant guarding,
the tears cried
only when no one else
is in sight
cause why
give those ******* the satisfaction?

Do you know the self-deprecation
self-debasing
pretending that your pain
is so freaking hilarious?

Do you know the loneliness
of the vacuum
cause you distrust
any stranger
who might touch
you?

Do you know the shame
and pain
when people push
and claim
that you should let
the perpetrator
back in to your life again?
Do you know
how it feels
to press down
on the skin that swells
while tears and snot
stifle your breathing
after a beating,
how the physical pain  
of the abuse
seems to weaken
but the other stuff
leaves you wishing
you were never born?
Graff1980 Nov 2017
When she came to school but never smiled, she was asking for help. When her eyes were swollen red with tears and she could barely breathe she was asking for help. When she was startled and flinched at the slightest touch she was asking for help. When there were bruises on her arm, and blood on her lip, she was asking for help. When she could not say the words because she did not know or was to scared she was asking for help, and when she slit her wrist in shame, or was beaten to death it was too late you stupid *******.
Graff1980 Jun 2019
Today I’m struggling
to find
a potent
portent
of the human
condition
to place in
my poetic
compositions.
Graff1980 Apr 2018
You are free
to dance
as you please,
swirl in a
thousand degrees,
burning like
a million
firefly lights,
a free from
swarm
of blinking
butts.

You are
the master of
the baptismal fire
that you made
your own
salvation
in.

It is not
their right
to define
your life,
so be the
salamander
or the butterfly,
the laughing
lizard
or the mighty
monarch.

You choose.
Graff1980 Feb 2018
I render a tender defeat.
Submit to the dudes who
manage to control you
with hateful lies.
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