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#
Đaviđ67 Mar 20
#
with you

as

my canvas;

i prefer to

paint

by

#number#
Đaviđ67 Feb 26
the sun,
it shines with
positivity

it shower's
smiles that
defy
earth's gravity

it warms
the heart
sets aflame
the spirit

spreading joy
and passion
to anyone that's
near it
Đaviđ67 Mar 16
adenosine;

big push

^^^___


get the crash cart

cardioversion
ready

____

clear!

^
_^__

T-O-D ?


WAIT!!!!!

^_^^^^

^
^^^^^^

We have a normal sinus rhythm

Prep him
for surgery
STAT!

Sign this
David_?

And here
I am.

Literal broken
heart
and all.
💔

For how
much longer
who knows?

Don't care.
Đaviđ67 Jan 29
okay;
now i see,

now i see
how this
place works.

it's not about;
the 'poetry'
you see
but rather,

behind
how many
other 'poets'
you lurk.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
Đaviđ67 Nov 2020
humans
always want
something
much more
when "it"
isn't theirs.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
be a beacon
in the storm

not the
storm itself.
🇺🇸
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
plural
possession
should
never
leave
you
feeling
singular....
lonely..
alone.
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
when
i make love,

i make sure
to leave
your body...
...
yearning.
🇺🇸
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
his blood
ran into
the gutter
that was
no stranger
to blood.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2019
"Inspired by a flicker"

An open empty canvas,
it sits by the candlelight,
adjacent to a bottle.

Spirits provoke an outpouring,
canvas becomes cluttered,
the ambiance provides emotion.

Verse after verse,
till the bottle runs dry,
your thirst now quenched.

A puddle of wax ,
a canvas full of soul,
is all that is left ...sitting in the dark.

===============



The leaves hung like rusted steel

It was more than just an Autumnal feel

These were moments for me to heal

This was when life got in my face and was real

Recognition of beauty which is inevitably dieing

Even those rusted steel leaves close to death were hanging on....
and still trying
Đaviđ67 Mar 5
I have blazed a path of imperfection

I raced towards my flaws from every direction

I had no brakes and didn't need them

My imperfections were a sense of freedom

Now I'm the turtle and no longer the hare

I'm slower-
I'm methodical-
I have so much to share

to bare

Last July was ironically the 'perfect' storm for this man

My heart ...
it stopped beating,
Yep...
3 times I had left this land

Dead they pronounced me not once but
yes thrice

I was all out of luck,
no more rolls of the dice

My heart was not ready to give up and quit

Perfectly imperfect but here I still sit

Not sure for how long with the storm clouds in view

Hey thunder-
hey lightning-
I'm no longer afraid of either one of you

I've already lived through the deadliest of storms you see

I've already been dead not only one time...
but three

The Buffalo General morgue was not ready for me

No tag on my toe.....
Nope-
For death I was not ready
Đaviđ67 Dec 2019
she squeezes
  my face
with her
   silky  
upper thighs.

locking
  my face into position,
   my arms wrapped
  strongly around her waist....

  i take a deep breath.

gyrating hips,
   panting moans are telling
   no lies.

guiding,
   pressing firm her hands
   to the
back of
    my head.

Please...please!!!!

don't you
stop are
   her heavy breathed cries.

and all
   the while
i'm humming
   the song -
"She's my cherry pie".



'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
Đaviđ67 Mar 2020
mentally
and
physically
abused as
a child,

not knowing
what i was
doing wrong
all the
while.

i did
nothing,
nothing
wrong except,

wanting a
relationship
with my
father,
so i
wept.

jealousy
and anger
filled those
around me,

the ones
that were
supposed
to be
looking out
for me.

the middle
child
that misses
his father,

boo hoo
they feel
as their
anger anchors
farther.

a little boy
needs
his dad,

my dad that
they
seemingly
didn't
want me
to have.

instead,
i grew up
with exclaims
like,

"go to room"

"you look
just like
your father
get out of
my sight".

and then,
those same
people
wonder why
i am the
mess that
i am today?

all that
i ever
wanted
was peace
in my life
and inside
my head...

i guess that
my death
will be
my only
way.

if most
only knew
what goes
on inside
my head?

i fight
myself
every day
just to
not
walk with
the dead.
to make it harder, my Dad passed away far too young of lung cancer which makes me hold even more resentment to those that kept me from him.

for the last 2weeks of his life in hospice care in his home, i was his care giver.
i gave him every shot that one could possibly imagine.
but, it was my loving face that he seen last as he drifted away from me one last time....

i am here to hurt no one.
i am here to share whatever love and words that i can.

much love to you all and as my dad would always say :
"ciao ciao for now".
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
thunderstorms
are
why
i
live
Mmmmm
mmmm
mmm.
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
every
rose
lives
with
thorns
Đaviđ67 Feb 2020
sight
hearing
smell
taste
touch
Đaviđ67 Mar 21
3 letters

It only requires
3 letters
to best describe
our youth,
my generation.

Those 3 letters
are
F U N !
this song
this video
is our youth
back then.
we had
F U N

Play the song.
You'll enjoy it.


https://youtu.be/7_pzk83luwo
Đaviđ67 Mar 21
My evening walk,
      I am walking east
        as the sun falls
       below the horizon
          behind me

           I notice
              my shadow
          casting out directly
               in front of me
          and it nearly
            makes me cry

            I think to myself ;

              this earth nearly
            lost this man's
               shadow
               last year....
               last year
                  in July
declared dead 3 times July 13th in the wee hours of the morning
Đaviđ67 Dec 2019
86
different
forms
of
poetry.

before
my demise,

i will
conquer
all of
these.

poetry,

it
takes
me to a
paradise
of seas.

poetry,

it can
bring me
to the
summit
of all
that is
ecstasy.

poetry,

many
times
has
brought me
to
bended knee.

poetry,

gives me
oxygen
to breathe.

poetry,

is my
exhale
in winter
that
i can see.

poetry,

is all....
that i need.

poetry,

is how i communicate
to the world....
through me.
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
jenny,

back
in
1981,

we
all
knew
your
number.

tommy
tutone
sang
about
you
passionately
in
song,

and
your
number
is
one
he
made
us
forever
remember.

867-5309

i
kept
calling
you
b­ut,

you
were
tommy's
girl.

tommy
always
sang....

"i need to make you mine"

we
will
never
lose
your
number
jenny,

you
were
obviously
one
of
a kind.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2019
weightlessly
the squirrel
frolics,
aping one
luft balloon
of 99.
a mighty oak
it climbs,
coming to rest
in the
lush canopy
along with
the balloon.
deflated,
the balloon
falls to the ground
while
the squirrel
looks down
at the
deflated balloon,
snickers,
and
continues
its frolicking
from tree top
to tree top.
Đaviđ67 Nov 2020
Death;
"David, are you there"?

Me;
"Yes, I'll be right there".

Death;
"Don't try to run and hide, I will find you".

Me;
"I'm coming willingly, you don't frighten me".

Death;
"It is now your time David".

Me;
"Well hallelujah!
I was bored down here anyway"

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
people
  for one
day
   "act".

they
    "try"
to say
  all of
the
  right - expected
things

      and...

   the very
next day
    "reality"
settles
  back in
and they
  go back
to being
   who they
really are... .. .

   for good
      or
    bad.

thankful?

i am
   thankful
for
      keen
        intuition.

               i
     understand
            that

most-
  have no
    motives.

they're
   just
b-list
   actors....
  
  in

     a
  
world

        scattered
.
....    and

    filled

with

      hollyweird

         flunkies.

              i say

               be
          yourself.

   leave the

         imposter

    at
.
          .. home.

      halloween
      
was in

     october.

   i bring

      my

bipolar self

     everywhere

         with me,

   even if

....   i have to

    drag him.

     for
    good
       or
      bad.
Đaviđ67 Jan 2020
if awkward ever had to live a life.

it would always have that unsure half a grin.

it would have hands that perspire.

two left feet and mumbled unrecognizable words.

eyes that almost always look down towards the floor.

shoulders that are slouched, seem deflated.

if it had a twin it would be 'silence'.

together they would be 'awkard silence'.
Đaviđ67 Sep 2019
Heart in my mouth, pulse in my head
Mercury rising into the red
The smell of your skin can light up all the fires in me

Hungry to touch, I'm eager to please
Out of control and I hand you the keys
Every night I am burning to make love to you

But don't try to tell me you think it's all physical
It goes much deeper than that

You ought to know it's an affair of the heart
Have a little blind faith,
believe it's an affair of the heart

When we make love, it's a passionate thing
You shudder and shake,
sink your teeth in my skin....

I almost believe you were made to be played by my hands....

And you got the power, it amazes me still
How you play my emotions with consummate skill
I don't have to look any further than into your eyes

So don't try to tell me you think it's just physical
It goes way deeper than that
You better know it's an affair of the heart
Đaviđ67 Mar 2020
Loss.

Loss is not some figment of our imaginations.

Loss is waking up every morning and feeling that there is something very important that is missing.

In the pit of your stomach.
In the deepest recesses of your heart.

At the forefront of your mind.
Loss is an extreme emotion.

Because loss, is something that you know that you can never get back again.

Loss can leave you lost and nomadicly meandering unfamiliar paths most days and nights.

But,
but in those moments that the sun still shines,
shine....
shine brighter than it!

Make those around you always reach for their sunglasses.

The grey skies will always be there and during those, let those that we have lost, rain down on us so that for those moments, we may hide our tears.

Loss, is an emotion more extreme and intense than love.

Because, all that's left is to relive all of the memories of love without a further touch, but to look up into Heaven when we do and smile above.
Miss you Dad, the anniversary of your passing is looming heavy upon me :(
Đaviđ67 Mar 25
I've had
more adenosine
injected into
an IV
and emptied
inside of me
that it
actually
should have
been considered
obscene
And I'm still here 🙋🏻‍♂️
One will never know the feeling of death like having adenosine emptied into you 3 separate times in one evening.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2020
have you
       ever felt

            like
         someone's
          second
        phone call

              so;
          you don't
           answer

       'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
          👷🏻‍♂️
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
they say
  that,
one can not
  help whom
they are
    attracted to.

you'll
  have to
forgive me
  if i never
apologize
    to you.
Đaviđ67 Jan 2020
by choice,
i drove down
the wrong
street.

that choice
was not to
cater to my
heart but,
to cater and
save anothers
from breaking.

it's how that,

i have lived
my life.

that street?

it was a
dead end
for
my heart
and,

i knew that
before i
drove
down it.

and yet,
i pressed
on the gas
and defied
my heart.

why?

i have never
lived my life
to serve me.

i have
forever lived
my life,

to serve
and
to save others.

if i did
live for me?

i would have
left my heart's
dead end street
long ago.
Đaviđ67 Dec 2019
a poet is
not selfish
although we
love the quiet
of being alone.

any kind of
silence is a
prescription
to let our
tortured minds
graze and roam.

by oceans
of foam or
the hush being
played by a
clock's tick tock
in our home.

us poets
being alone
in our silence
will always
produce a
plethora of
poems.

by the time
i grasp my
last breath
i will have
created a
large heavy
  scholarly
book... .. .

..a tome.

'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'
Đaviđ67 Jan 2020
i **** myself
a little more
every day,

knowingly.

my suicide note,

my dear john,
has long been
in my
poetic verse,

for those that
are keen enough
to comprehend.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2019
During the
winter,
the ceramic tile
floor reminded
me of you

During the early
spring,
the dead trees
reminded
me of you

During the summer,
the suffocating
heat reminded
me of you

During the
fall,
its
-warm
-full of life
-breathable
traits,
did not remind
me of you

Hence,
why we're
           through

The completion
of me,
    could never
happen with
        you
Đaviđ67 Oct 2020
his entire life;

his sun has
hidden behind the clouds,
hidden below the
horizon,
enveloped by storms and by crowds.

his sun may not shine and thus will not warm him.
ebon clouds of humans seem to keep his sun dim.

his sun is his secret
that never gets shared.
his sun remains hidden because of the world, it is scared.

his sun will not shine for those whom don't merit.
his sun only shines on those whom he allows near it.

people - clouds - and storms;
they may all try to steal and hide his sun.
but for those that may be worthy.....
"ready or not"
here it comes.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️

By the way -
sunsets are only more proof that endings can be beautiful too".
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
this is for the forgotten ones.
for the in-betweeners.
for the never-good-enoughs.
this is for my strong people.
who like me, struggle daily to find their footing in a world that seems to take pleasure in seeing them trip.

for the second choices.
for the i'll-date-him/her-if-i-have-no-other-options.
for those who always feel alone.
for my fighters.

i understand you and i am so proud of you.
it is not easy to live the way you do and yet you are breathing.
this is for my forgotten people who simply exist while no one cares.
i'm with you and .....
i do care.

i am
more bi-polar
than i care
to admit.
but ...
i do
admit it.
i'm the one
that struggles
to fit in.
and i am
okay
with that too.
Đaviđ67 Mar 2020
I'm now just an old and brittle guy-
A slow deliberate gait when once I used to fly-
In the rear view mirror I wave at my youth-
Fifty-three this year, growing long in the tooth-
I can no longer portray a man made of steel-
Cause' unoiled and rusty is the way that I feel-
Acceptance of this reality, was my toughest fight yet-
I lived a life hopefully that I soon will never forget.
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
deeply breathe in
each muse
that passes by
without hesitation
or wondering
why.

let it
cut you,
pierce your skin
and fully
let it in.

we are meant
to bear the
scars that
others ignore.

almost daily
we will
place ourselves
at the foot of
death's door.

i see you
fellow poets,
i feel the
pain and
the longing
of your own
tortured yet
loving soul.

just keep
the tourniquets
handy because
bleeding for
others is meant
to be our
life long role.

we love,
we make love
with unmatched
passion that
one never
soon forgets.

we are lovers
that when one,
our lovers will
never, ever
regret.

we lOve soooo
so much
deeper than
most others
could ever
comprehend.

we are poets,
born as poets
and we will be
poets right to
the very end!

i love you my
community of
genuine
fellow poets.

the words
that i splashed
upon this page
are truth,
and all of us
poets,
know it.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2020
words
are a
poet's
carnival
of
feasts

the
emotions
they stir
are
deliberately
succinct
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
my
words
aren't
memes
or
pictures
with
recycled
word
schemes.

my
words
come
from
me,
falling
from
my
lips
like
leaves
from
an autumn's
tree.

each
word
carefully
selected,
each
word
meticulously
reflected.. .;

dissected.

peruse
them
like
the
*****
memes
used
over
and
over
again.

peruse
my
originality
that
i've
inked.. .

with
my
very
own
pen.
Đaviđ67 Oct 2019
I tossed our pictures into the fire....

the symbolism of it all,
almost knocked me from my feet.
Đaviđ67 Jun 2020
by the river...
trying to leave
my anxiety
by the shore.

the sand flys
and boat engines
revving become more.

all i want is my heart to slow and my deep breaths to endure.

birds singing,
the sound of waves crashing up against the wall are my cure.

my heart rate has slowed and my gasping for air has slowed for sure.

if you loved me, your unselfishness would be pure.

but instead, more anxiety and angst is your lure.

it's then that i question your womanly demure.

am i the suspect or am i the juror?

never allow your own past to create a lifelong blur.

it only leads to more....to endure.

i am more than an everyday Puuuuuurrrr.

stretch kitty stretch...i know that you think that you're better for me than her.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-
Đaviđ67 May 2020
spare me the
painted face
of liability.

make love
to me with
the face
you were born,
naturally.


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
Graffiti
   expresses
an artist's heart
  that may be
"up against a wall"
Đaviđ67 May 2020
Roses...

roses are breathtakingly beautiful in full bloom •

Alluring,
even seductive
when held
between
one's lips •

Unpetal'd,
it is still
a rose but,
with thorns •

Unbloomed and unessenced it may
occasionally
be •

But a rose,
is still a rose afterall •

Thorns and all •

The thorns
are to
protect itself
from the
unworthy •

Be sure
that you're worthy
to inhale
and grasp
its magical
beauty •

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-
Đaviđ67 Jan 2020
the heaven's rain turned into funeral black -

the earth opened up beneath our feet -

the winds shared whispers of imminent death -

the rain ignores the fire in the sky above -

the abundant smell of iron wafts -

the sight of flowing scarlet red is everywhere -

the trumpets heard are sonic booms -

there is no place to run -

the souls of evil greedily pull at me below my feet -

the feathers of angels brush past my nose -

the time has ceased, weightless i become -

the end is here -

are you ready ?
Đaviđ67 Sep 2020
Poetry,
the often
underappreciated
expression
of art.
And yet most
when trying it
themselves?
Well, they don't even know where
to start.

Let me help you, my poetic wisdom on you impart.
There is no
place to start.

For real poets;

Muses are endless and poetry begins in the heart.

We poets know that we are underappreciated and our art is lost like nights that turn to day.
Most often we don't write for you, but rather us.
And that's what makes your underappreciation of us okay.

We poets perform art, but we do it our way.
Our palette always full,
with a lifetime of words to say.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️
Đaviđ67 Mar 5
her picture frames,
they hold
only pictures
of you

without you,
her frames
are blank
canvases
of endless
cold

you are when
she learned
that love
was hot,
and
could actually
grow

without you,
she has
no pictures
for her
frames
to hold

you are
the only love
that she,
has wantingly
ever known

'she cries'
- new
with you
my love,
will never
get old

be the art,
that fills
her frame;
her priceless art
to never
be sold
a short poem inspired by this amazing Chicago song.

https://youtu.be/kGU_-fnSQI8
Đaviđ67 Oct 2019
Wheat fields that sway in the breeze.
So stunningly peaceful.
A sight to set the heart and soul at ease.

Adrift on calm open seas.
The sun so warm on your face.
Nary a sound to be heard, pure tranquility.

Watching the spider spin its web among the trees.
Silk laden beauty as the morning dew glistens off its every thread.
Refine yourself , in treasured moments like these.
Đaviđ67 Dec 2019
ev'ry "holiday,"
birthday,
all in sum,
my soul feels
cold, it feels
so numb.

as they pass
i stand and
applaud,
it brings me
closer and
closer
to God.

my company
sits in misery,
i suggest you
stay away.
this wretched
soul forever
in battle with
torture,
will never
be okay.

alone i aspire
to be ....

because
truthfully,

the only one
that can
make me happy
is me.

my
everlasting
inward war
is something
of which,
i will never
be free.
Đaviđ67 Nov 2019
there she was
  sitting in
her long  
  brunette hair

and that
   *******
fitting dress
    left me
gasping
    for air.

silhouette
   on fire
as she
    teases the
moon light

her curves
  have got
me hungry
   for one
helluva night.

  she hopped
up on my
  pickup
and then
  she's dropping
my tailgate

i knew to
  hop on up
'cause this
  lovin' just
can't wait.
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