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"grafitti" poems
We meet by the lockers at break I'm still amazed that this school has Cheerleaders that basketball not rounders & netball is the sport played that we study the Cold War ' Of Mice & Men' & the War in Vietnam that we have 'Hitzenfrei' days that our German teacher always forgives our mistakes that boys & girls hang out together that we put on musicals I've never heard of That we celebrate the fall of the Wall that we take school trips to Concentration Camps that there's no uniform that the teachers rarely explain anything that the word ' rubber' doesn't mean ' eraser' here but something else that there are stereotypes like 'nerd' & ' prom queen' that we welcome grafitti that we believe in Love above any kind of Study that we have the freedom to pick & choose our failiures without being sent to the Principal's office that we read Kerouac Carl Sandburg & Ginsberg that nearly everyone has lived in at least two or three different countries that we rarely fight that my crush plays trumpet in a ska band that we go to the nearby Lakes on weekends & the English language cinema on Tuesdays that we celebrate Halloween bit by bit I nearly forget my All Girls school days in soggy Britain where I had no friends where we sang hymns every single morning where we didn't practice the Love we preached where our future was crumbling old Oxbridge where we had a coat of arms where we had houses named after the merchant ships of our Founder  from the 1600ds where we didn't dream of becoming Presidents or Astronauts but Academics forever lost in musty books the flower of our youth, wasted *Hitzenfrei days were days in summer when we were let off school because it was too hot. Wall - Berlin Wall
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Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
JFK school, Berlin
We meet by the lockers at break I'm still amazed that this school has Cheerleaders that basketball not rounders & netball is the sport played that we study the Cold War ' Of Mice & Men' & the War in Vietnam that we have 'Hitzenfrei' days that our German teacher always forgives our mistakes that boys & girls hang out together that we put on musicals I've never heard of That we celebrate the fall of the Wall that we take school trips to Concentration Camps that there's no uniform that the teachers rarely explain anything that the word ' rubber' doesn't mean ' eraser' here but something else that there are stereotypes like 'nerd' & ' prom queen' that we welcome grafitti that we believe in Love above any kind of Study that we have the freedom to pick & choose our failiures without being sent to the Principal's office that we read Kerouac Carl Sandburg & Ginsberg that nearly everyone has lived in at least two or three different countries that we rarely fight that my crush plays trumpet in a ska band that we go to the nearby Lakes on weekends & the English language cinema on Tuesdays that we celebrate Halloween bit by bit I nearly forget my All Girls school days in soggy Britain where I had no friends where we sang hymns every single morning where we didn't practice the Love we preached where our future was crumbling old Oxbridge where we had a coat of arms where we had houses named after the merchant ships of our Founder  from the 1600ds where we didn't dream of becoming Presidents or Astronauts but Academics forever lost in musty books the flower of our youth, wasted *Hitzenfrei days were days in summer when we were let off school because it was too hot. Wall - Berlin Wall
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74
You said my fears were irrational But how do you deem irrational That which a person whom Is deeply in love with you Deems rational, How do you deem My fear of losing you Irrational? Look at us now The mess we've become We've become such a wreck A train wreck, That even the finest form of grafitti Cannot modify How do you live with yourself Knowing that you're the one Who sinked our love boat Now we're just another superstructure Consumed whole, By the unfathomable depth Of the endless sea, From the brutal storms of life We didn't foresee We cried of pain from heart fracture Is it love that you lacked Or was your sense of reasoning somewhat hacked? How do you sleep, knowing that You're the one who ripped apart The delicate petals To this precious rose of ours Perhaps you won't make it To be in the running, In the Oscars For the best actor award But you do at least, deserve a few medals Like the paraplegic athlete Oscar For the best disloyalty I confessed my fears unto you And all you could do was laugh it off You brushed the subject off As if it were a speck of dust On your shoulders Rendering your pride, a form of rust How could you have traded Unconditional love For irrefutable lust You were once my pride and joy But now a stranger you've become Another somebody, I used to know Sad part is that your presence No longer brings any joy How could you say that My fears were irrational When you fell into the same trap I warned you of How could you say That my fears were irrational When you succumbed to the spell And didn't get choked by the smell Of our burning bridge How could you just stand there And watch, while everything We've ever worked for Is burning down to dust? Look at us now. A premeditated crime scene we are No evidence left to prove how close we once were Not even a chalk outline Look at us now.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 5:06 AM UTC
Irrational fears
You said my fears were irrational But how do you deem irrational That which a person whom Is deeply in love with you Deems rational, How do you deem My fear of losing you Irrational? Look at us now The mess we've become We've become such a wreck A train wreck, That even the finest form of grafitti Cannot modify How do you live with yourself Knowing that you're the one Who sinked our love boat Now we're just another superstructure Consumed whole, By the unfathomable depth Of the endless sea, From the brutal storms of life We didn't foresee We cried of pain from heart fracture Is it love that you lacked Or was your sense of reasoning somewhat hacked? How do you sleep, knowing that You're the one who ripped apart The delicate petals To this precious rose of ours Perhaps you won't make it To be in the running, In the Oscars For the best actor award But you do at least, deserve a few medals Like the paraplegic athlete Oscar For the best disloyalty I confessed my fears unto you And all you could do was laugh it off You brushed the subject off As if it were a speck of dust On your shoulders Rendering your pride, a form of rust How could you have traded Unconditional love For irrefutable lust You were once my pride and joy But now a stranger you've become Another somebody, I used to know Sad part is that your presence No longer brings any joy How could you say that My fears were irrational When you fell into the same trap I warned you of How could you say That my fears were irrational When you succumbed to the spell And didn't get choked by the smell Of our burning bridge How could you just stand there And watch, while everything We've ever worked for Is burning down to dust? Look at us now. A premeditated crime scene we are No evidence left to prove how close we once were Not even a chalk outline Look at us now.
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69
Cloud of smoke rising above Revelation of joyous tranquility A stir within the belly stiffening A grafitti smiled, you lived within A mouth stitched, heart un-sutured Constrained by the apathy you bear Consolidated in tethered pastures A stare of silence vigorously imbues A pleasure to meet your selfish leisures Hear the voices rattling in throned castles Run encircling the failed soul games Good luck from one, another, a mother I was bred as a hybrid alien, a predictor Take these words and run, jog on Your palms saturated with energy Leave the magic and gallop with horses
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
Bred as a Hybrid
I put the heads of those come to reason on the walls raised clean of explanation I occupy observation towers swept with frost and the listening posts during hopeless invasions Forget it I came here to fight and you'll bleed into your grafitti which converted my thieves hand into cognac soaked mandolin adagios
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Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 1:00 AM UTC
Towers
I run my fingertips Through fields of gold Touching on the edge of your reasoning Blue **A moment of sadness Or the colour of tranquility** Ripping skin Painful memories A distance A time that has slipped away Single handed perfection An artist of words *play with fire if you will for tomorrow My voice will hold the Fire of a molitude* If the illusion of life ways you down Hold fast For we can never know When life will deal an ace Be ready to paint grafitti Across the sky in the hues of your emotions   Let there be time to fly just once before we die
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May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Fly
1. Crack, Snapple, and Pop went to shop for designer clothing at the mall. 2. The mall was closed so Snapple and Crack hopped on Pop and shopped at Macy's. 3. According to his doctor, King Kong had a fear of paper airplanes. 4. Santa Monica fell into the ocean because Santa weighed too much. 5. Crackle entered rehab, they finally got him the help he needed. 6. As darkness fell over eastern Europe the planes were all grounded. 7. It makes you think that the president of Poland had ties to the pope. 8. Or maybe think that the president of Poland and the pope were close. 9. Because God is making it difficult for anyone to fly there. 10. You just have to wonder sometimes about the timing of everything.
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
American Grafitti
If even for one second you understood what you've seen standing right in front of you you wouldn't scream or pinch yourself like a subconscious pilot trying to eject from your dreams Leave upon leaf peeled back like the paint that coats the walls of this mostly silent building that surrounds you like a grafitti covered **** stained nightmare of petting and favor games The digital ****** horrorshow stage Lights, action, put some tape over your camera Set your microphone in flames It's impossible to track the truth even though it died bound and naked but they forgot where they buried it You've seen it just like me I know you have Don't worry that pervasive feeling of sickening intoxication wears off in a year or twenty.
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC
Don't Worry
I wish some trace of myself could linger on you When I'm not around The way lipstick lingers, pink and soft, on a soda can Even after it is thrown into the trash I wish I could leave some mark on you Indelible but unpainful Like grafitti on a wall I was here When I ran my hands across your skin I wish it smudged and stained us both Like ink Or graphite When I trace your shape with my eyes I wish it left tracks trailing gently over your skin Like veins, soft and purple I can feel your hand in mine But I cannot see the gentle dents of your fingers Pressing into my palms Like the void left in your pillow when you rise each morning I remember the feeling of laying beside you But I cannot see the lines of your sheets Pressed into my skin Trailing like ribbons
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 6:32 PM UTC
Traces
Where does the sunshine on a sunny day?   Where do people come out to play? Where can you ride your bike, skate on your board, have a pint at the pub and watch the world go by? Where can you picnic or barbeque, learn to kayak or canoe? Where can you be all alone or part of the crowd if you please? Where can you play Rugby, Football, Basketball or Frisbee , young or old, small or tall? Where can you run, let time stand still and be free? Where can you see children playing in the park, splashing in puddles, people barbequing after dark? Where can you cross Millennium Bridge overlooking the weir? Where can you climb a wall, indoors or out, play music on a radio, dance and laugh and shout? Where can you express yourself in Grafitti on a wall, play with your mates, run and kick a ball? Where can you see flowers growing free, ducks and swans swimming with their families. All of this you can see for free any day of the year down by the Quay.
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Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 1:17 PM UTC
A Day at the Quay
If someone tells you grafitti isn't art, prove them wrong, It's okay to miss the people who were bullets to you, Don't lie that you don't have a lighter on you when you really do, Your mum definitely knows you've tried drugs, Never be afraid to say 'no', even when you've already said 'yes', For your own sanity, sometimes you have to stop romanticising, believe what is already there, Ask someone older and wiser what love truly means, When you meet someone, remember their eye colour not what they're wearing, Don't be afraid to find counsel between the leaves of a book, When your grandmother asks if you're okay, be honest with her, When a relationship is over, leave, don't continue watering a dead flower, One day you'll be eighty, you won't have a twenty year olds legs or a ten year old heart, Turn off your phone one day and be involved in the world around you, Ask yourself advice, you know you best, learn to trust that, Do things differently this time, Choose the one who looks at you as though you're magic, Good people just made the mistakes and learnt from them before you did, Take the time to give someone something they really need, The one you can never watch a full film with will be the one to haunt you forever, That song in Pocahontas makes more sense than any other you've heard, The body has seven billion nerves, there will be that one person that gets on every single one, We've all sat on the kitchen surface and spoon fed ourselves peanut butter from the tub, Don't worry, eventually soul mates meet, for they have the same hiding place, If someone needs a minute, give them an hour, I know it's hard, but just ask, Thoughts leave deeper scarring that anything physical, Now and again, write a list of your best qualities, Chocolate understands, Better to have loved and lost, than to be stuck with them forever, Some people you meet you might never see again, at least not in the way you did before, Love doesn't hurt, loneliness does.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Guide
If someone tells you grafitti isn't art, prove them wrong, It's okay to miss the people who were bullets to you, Don't lie that you don't have a lighter on you when you really do, Your mum definitely knows you've tried drugs, Never be afraid to say 'no', even when you've already said 'yes', For your own sanity, sometimes you have to stop romanticising, believe what is already there, Ask someone older and wiser what love truly means, When you meet someone, remember their eye colour not what they're wearing, Don't be afraid to find counsel between the leaves of a book, When your grandmother asks if you're okay, be honest with her, When a relationship is over, leave, don't continue watering a dead flower, One day you'll be eighty, you won't have a twenty year olds legs or a ten year old heart, Turn off your phone one day and be involved in the world around you, Ask yourself advice, you know you best, learn to trust that, Do things differently this time, Choose the one who looks at you as though you're magic, Good people just made the mistakes and learnt from them before you did, Take the time to give someone something they really need, The one you can never watch a full film with will be the one to haunt you forever, That song in Pocahontas makes more sense than any other you've heard, The body has seven billion nerves, there will be that one person that gets on every single one, We've all sat on the kitchen surface and spoon fed ourselves peanut butter from the tub, Don't worry, eventually soul mates meet, for they have the same hiding place, If someone needs a minute, give them an hour, I know it's hard, but just ask, Thoughts leave deeper scarring that anything physical, Now and again, write a list of your best qualities, Chocolate understands, Better to have loved and lost, than to be stuck with them forever, Some people you meet you might never see again, at least not in the way you did before, Love doesn't hurt, loneliness does.
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31
People who don't live here think they know it all from watching T.V. City lights cast down upon city streets. They know no other way than to survive once someone comes and shoots their street lights out. They **** and die for the street. The fat man on the radio tries to calm the city. Grafitti acts as a warnig, who'll get the 187 mark out today. Some grew up on the low side of town where the bridges and the freeways meet. L.A river acts as borders for the Gang controlled neighborhoods and washes their blood and sometimes their guns away. Everyone's from somewhere ,are you brave enough to say.
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Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
Keeping Things Los Angeles
you gave me much attention, i acted like i didn't see it. i didn't mean it. i was mean. at first when you threw the hints, my eyes aint believe it. now that you're in another man's arms, my heart is over here not believing. i tried to eye contact you and tell you that i dreamt you, but for some reason our cable connection was cut off. i didn't act like that for no reason, i was just waiting for the right ti(me). and hear me out, im going to get to you someday. and i'll keep waiting as i always have, i'll grafitti poems on my soul until i touch your hands. listen, at 2am when i converse with the wind, i usually tell him to tell you that i love you 'cause my lips can't. i was just waiting for the right ti(me). and i'll keep waiting. 'cause you can do the right thing with the right person. at the wrong time. then everything gets twisted. somebody say timing.
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 12:33 PM UTC
ti(me).
Impaired skin, my boy said rid the mind from a World of things. But this can't be about your hair or being thin, you have the eyes of God and so bold, a Queen. Under this Land is nature's jewel, in a way I understand why you chose Men as a change of crew. Dark texture and shy, roots pre-destined to mark the star of the sky, so never mind those pimples, the heart of Man pumps greed and becomes green at the sight of those dimples. I toss grace in here to your scars in predicaments, when your lost days in fear turn to beer, drugs and cigarettes. The puzzle piece to my Lung, how can this troubled Queen be done? Stretching both arms for wealth and strength, it's touching to know you held your guards at the arms of death. Cutting sweat with no alarm...you had to take his breath, so to keep harm at arm's length. Hold on Soul of tenacity, our modern walls should picture your face on grafitti, to resemble the forgotten wall-painted scriptures like the face of Nefertiti. No one knows the journey you chose, and so I'll leave this prose and let you be on your toes...
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May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
Girl
Don't look at me I was googled here.
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
Nine Syllables of Grafitti
Night guzzled the day drawing creative grafitti his way veiling gray hazy silhouettes mining the hourglass of time groping for the stream of life.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
Night (2)
You write of the Faroe Islands of whaling & girls with red hair I wonder if you've ever been there or if it's just a writer's fantasy Can a poet write of what he's not seen with his very eyes or does he always have to live it feel the blessed fire of experience burn his soul & skin still, I give in to your vision of a place I've never been in return, I offer you my Berlin pristine lakes & secret courtyards a City that's fought to be free showing it's pride in art & grafitti & international flair yet you scorn it just as you do me turning my heart into droplets of Alice's tears that moment when she can't get in through the tiny door to the garden in Wonderland why doesn't my world entrance you, Islander don't you know we share the same sacred loves look closer, draw near we are similar we are poets we know God is a Beatnik & we read the same books My Soul sings of you open this door let me love you let us fold the stars in two & dance tell me of Yorkshire don't judge me for my past let our differences bring us together sparking desire & let my love last until you finally see in me what I've already found in you
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Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 4:04 PM UTC
Differences
"You can do whatever you want! She proclaimed A thousand eyes peered at her scornful, disdainful It was a motto they'd heard often, "You can" had lived longer Than any of their friends It was etched onto their brains Next to the minimum skills for the low-wage job they held and the worries about getting food on the table "Do whatever" echoed Through broken doors, Creeped in the cracks between Grafitti plastered walls, trash-strewn streets were nothing thrived. "You want" whispered In the silence between gun shots, Hospital beeps, loud televisions, squawking carts Slapping them awake when they fell asleep after Working 20 hour shifts "Just follow your dreams" she continued (Not that you can anyway because you'll Never be treated equally, never be given The attention you need, never be lucky) "Remember, everything is a choice!"* *Options are not included.
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Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
#freechoice
In a sea of ghosts, I sat unknown on the Flushing Local over to 42nd Street. And as I stared through smudged glass, at landscapes of grafitti, I realized I was dead.
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Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
Dead On The Flushing Local
The gravity of angels doth presage a fall Dissent is the ascendant written on the scrawl Scripture's now grafitti's permanent fixture Anyone care for a psalm missile or two God has a couple, his friends have got a few Nothings old every things really quite new Every bargain's even got a testament or two Destructions guaranteed, creation's over rated Another Eden's a blue print for a parking lot Rise and fall's kids’ stuff, god does them all Damnation just that button on a play station Satnav's got two, that's one for each direction Heaven's great ' but hell can be a serious option It really is an avenue, you gotta keep it open When faith abandons you, the other joints reliable In the meantime just enjoy the uncertain chaos Sin must have some virtue, there's enough about Even the clergy occasionally let it all hang out If its good enough for frock coats, who knows It might be better for all of us dressed as we are Ready for anything that sin can throw at us And everything we can toss back in a glass Darkly with the shades on in a cheap hotel We might as well if heaven's hell on earth And the wagers of each sin is just a gamble With eternity dead heading with our salvation It could take a while before the result comes in.
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Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 2:05 PM UTC
The Beauty of it all
¿Qué les queda por probar a los jóvenes en este mundo de paciencia y asco? ¿sólo grafitti? ¿rock? ¿escepticismo? también les queda no decir amén no dejar que les maten el amor recuperar el habla y la utopía ser jóvenes sin prisa y con memoria situarse en una historia que es la suya no convertirse en viejos prematuros ¿qué les queda por probar a los jóvenes en este mundo de rutina y ruina? ¿cocaína? ¿cerveza? ¿barras bravas? les queda respirar / abrir los ojos descubrir las raíces del horror inventar paz así sea a ponchazos entenderse con la naturaleza y con la lluvia y los relámpagos y con el sentimiento y con la muerte esa loca de atar y desatar ¿qué les queda por probar a los jóvenes en este mundo de consumo y humo? ¿vértigo? ¿asaltos? ¿discotecas? también les queda discutir con dios tanto si existe como si no existe tender manos que ayudan / abrir puertas entre el corazón propio y el ajeno / sobre todo les queda hacer futuro a pesar de los ruines del pasado y los sabios granujas del presente
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477
¿qué les queda a los jóvenes?
When I look at my city I see Boarded windows and doors I see Broken glass I see Grafitti messages eternalized on old fences and buildings I see Protesters fighting to be heard in a sea of voices I see Cotten whisps floating and blown away and forgotten like the crimes against innocent people of color committed by white police I see Fear in tired eyes, afraid that their children might not come home alive I see The man running this country denying and reading someone else's words I see Injustice and refusal of the second amendment I see The place I call my home suddenly not safe anymore for people of color that America is built on
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Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 9:37 AM UTC
What I see
. ( we're starting to get boring ) :: Illuminati Night CULTURAL HEROES ! the way that babe can shake her booties in my face ! Should make her father proud ! •• **** star high Ain't it great (?) AMERICA ! // )( Little words Grafitti footsteps thru the night The boy , his feet wrapped in Rags of blood His mother's crying in his ear & his little sister's face In their last midnight )( Mystical sight ---- HERE ---- ---- ALL OF US TOGETHER ---- • Looking to see Truth ( at last ! ) ;;; FROM SEA TO SHINNING SEA TO FINALLY SEE TRUTH AT LAST X
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Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 6:01 PM UTC
aye mate ... time for a Ride
Little specks of profanities    c a r v e d     t h r o u g h        and into my chest.
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
Grafitti