Listen to America? by graff1980 #np on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/graff1980/america

It is hard to explain
When you work the midnight shift
You only seam to exist in nightshades
Not the warm daylight hues and tints

When sunshine becomes
Inverse in your tired mind
And days are measured by
Moonrise and moonfall

When solar heat
Is just a sweet precursor
To the night that cools you
And the sunrise signals slumber

How sweet it is
To interrupt this with
With a day
Spent awake
Surrendering to the
Splendor of the sun

Fare thee well.
Silence may not be golden
but it is the best teacher I know.
I’m a failure but what the hell.
All the lies I told myself
were a way to buy
a ticket out of my hell.

Fare thee well.
I won’t meet you there,
and I am not coming back from
where the streets cross to black
but please don’t cry because of that.
I was always headed that way,
one foot on the road
and the other in my grave.
Planting my spirit
On a broken highway
with my hands in my pocket
and nothing much left to say.

Fare thee well.
Particles passing in space.
It is time for me to go
thrown out with the rest
of this waste
we called the human race.

Rescue me
And my lonely heart
A broken mirror for
A matchstick man
Sees me falling apart

Help me out
Ease that throbbing ache
Cause I can’t undo
Everyone’s mistake

They say that the hand that loves you
Can help or hurt you
They say that it is better to love
And loss
Then to not have loved at all

I say that the ones that broke you
Might be able to help fix you
But I do not know if they still exist

Rescue me
From these winter nights
Take me out of this
Useless life
if you can’t love me
For my humanity
Then just take me out
Of this human plague
Of insanity

Words cannot describe everything so we use numbers to break the noun barrier.

How deep can I go
How honest can I be
Watching out
For those who hurt me
Letting them in
And out
Like a revolving door
Hurting while they explore
Things they wanted more
I let them go
Hoping they know
That I love them
And wish them all the happiness
That I will never have

It is a cosmic elation
Evolution gone stagnant
For chemical jubilation
The frustration is
I can’t settle for it
Haven’t found my fit
Corner and edges
Coming together to perfect
A playful partnership
Of the mind and the body

It is agony and nostalgia
Pathways parting
Like the roads less traveled
Looking better in my mind
I look back to find
A hopeful lie to erase the line
Of time and loneliness
Though only desire exist
Because I love an illusion

The Beatles said
“All we need is love.”
I wake crying in my bed
Because I cannot touch
The one I thought might be
A reasonable passionate
Match for me
And the hope crumbles
Like the coliseum
Where gladiators raged
Where battles were a staged
Like Pat Benatar said
“Love is a battlefield

Now I sit sorrowful in
Fools form and folly
Knowing Cupid’s Arrows
Are the tools of my destruction
So, I love alone observing
All who will never ever love me

She left work early
to catch a train
high heels
spiking puddles of rain.

She will not be back again;

Turned the corner
almost tripped
barely missed
getting hit
by a yellow cab.

All aboard and off
at her final stop
two lefts
and straight three blocks,

Up the stairs
with no one there
in the bathroom
waits fate unfair.

Blood shot eyes
and thinning hair,
She hid it well,
or maybe no one cared.

She counts the pills,
and puts them back
Pulls out the razor,
and puts it back
resisting the urge
to finally do that.

In the mirror,
she stares defiant
standing self reliant
ready to live.

A dish of soap,
still bubbly soaked,
slips off the counter
tripping her silent
leaving a cold corpse
where they found her.

How I long for the eyes
Of love’s lusting affection
To become a servant of desire
Sweet and sensual proclivities
Though I am afflicted
With such conflicted
Inclination,
Wanting rationality
And hungering for passion
That make the crescent moon
Smile and swoon
More then anything
I long for a partner
More of the mind
Then of the body

The redness is not toxic.
It is the people who are caustic
making her nauseas and cautious.
Pink skin pressed in
with razor thin
piercing pressure
to ease the pain
to silence her brain;

Cause no one is listening
to her sobbing,
cause no one is looking
for her scars,
more inside then out.

People care about her,
but they are distracted,
so soft motions become
harder,
and she becomes some
sort of sick lumberjack
trying to saw off that
pain called life.

How unfair
to see her go there
cause she is only
twelve.

The orange sun retreats
beautifully surrendering
to the clouds and night sky
that is pursuing him.

The last bits of lights
turns gray cirrus purple
signaling crickets
and crazy croaking frogs
that they are free
to sing with the birds.

Warm become a cool forty-six degrees.
While others ready for sleep,
I look forward to the ecstasy
of waiting in such fervent longing
for the sun to return.

Time is mercury,
silver liquid poison
to the living
taking more then
it is giving.

It is Hermes,
a deft thief,
burgling
what the Greeks
sought to keep,
putting fools
asleep eternally,
so that even Aphrodite
cannot recall
those loved ones lost
to its terrible march.

My problem is that I am driven. I have a certain level of willpower that most cannot honestly claim. However, many with this degree of will power become rigid. I am fluid, because directing much of the energy i have is a undeniable sense of empathy. This makes pursuing a world of materiel things highly detestable, because I know these things come at the cost of our humanity. So my pleasure comes from the consumption of art and knowledge. I am a strange **** that strangles the seeds, and softens the earth of your subdued minds. While you keep trying to grow straight like the rest am trying to bend you so you can see around OZ's curtains. Good luck,

I can only resist
for so long
challenge that which is
so strong
before my mind breaks
and age takes
what makes
all resistors great.

I can only be an insurgent
casting shadows of love
instead of waging raging
battles of blood
for so long before I am all gone.

Right or wrong but mostly right,
I can only fight this lonely fight
before the light fades
and I say goodbye to my
better days

Run away
Lest ye become a martyr
To the minds of your time
Dining with swine
Consumed with the mundane
Uninspired rhymes
Subsumed by seas
Of selfish human beings
Till the oceans swallow
The last depths you had
And you wallow
In the shallow
Self involved
Un-evolved
Dim lightbulb
Bulbous
Busts of buffoons
Who call themselves
Pop artists

As a child I asked my mother
to mend my lonely heart
to accept and understand me
as I am and not as who she hoped I’d be.

Please do not turn your pain on me
inflicting wounds so deep
that I refuse to ever trust myself.

Eyes aflamed with tears.
Sinuses clogged with snot.
Without comprehending
without words I asked for her patience
her kindness, to secure my innocence.
I asked for safety at home.

Had I known the violence she would sow
planting row after row
of red marks and broken hearts
I would have found a gun
and a safe little corner.
I would have asked no one
and taken the peace I deserved.

I am a sick *******
Sweet friend
Emotion fiend
Seeking stories
Wanting your
gorgeous pain
To hold
To harbor
The albatross
At the arbor
Flying to the dying ship
That weight around your neck
That anchors you to ****
That razor blade
You want to use to cut it
I am a vampire of sorrows
******* up injustice
Then spitting these flitting verses
Back out like sputum
So others can use them
To make us all more human
Though my wrists cramp with heartbreaks
I still write at night by lampshade
Sipping small vials of nightshade
Hoping to take your pain away
And plant posies with all that poison

The past is our home
Safe and set in our memory
Warm and surrounded by family
And though we may wish to return to what was
Instead of staying with what is
We can only revisit it
With all the terrible grief
Knowing life will never be
As simple as it used to be
And that we can never really
Go home again

I cannot give myself over to the apathy of uninformed disinterest or the deep self-sacrifice sacrifice of saints. So i slumber in this sea of pain connected to suffering of others while being detached from their distracted pleasures.

Our life for all its sorrows
thick thorny burning bushes,
bruised and bloodied heartbeats
ripped open with razor heartbreaks
is the only thing we truly own.

We walk alone
unweaving the believing
wavering fools
who play tools
to master makers
those money takers
pious fakers.

We walk the road
of learned truths,
pursuing those who
inspire us to do
better.

We walk alone
but sometimes
paths converge.
Parallel voices are heard.
The pain recedes.
Hope no longer retreats
and we are free
to be temporarily
together.

We walk alone
and that is how we die.
No matter how hard we try,
even when we fly
we fall down
to the ground
flaming comet crashing
crushing the crust
and cutting deeper.

Thus departs
the hearts of seekers
walking all alone
especially into their own
dark death.

There’s no heart left to break
There’s no home for the bank to take
There’s no food but scraps that I ate
I lost my rights the American way

Corners cut, I avoid main streets
can’t believe in your deity
Life is hard as the cold concrete
Where I rest my head to fall asleep

I had a life I had a love
I had a family but now they’re gone
There's no one left who knew me then
Only dream scenes that see
Right through to the death of me

You put me down you call me ***
But I was just passing life from
Childhood to the end of this bad one

Thank you for the kind words. As a poet/writer/artist I slipped in an out of the ethereal world of the mind. I do spend time with people but I am drenched in solitude by necessity. I find very few kind words for me. So usually I just say thank you but just this once I wanted to express the depth of my gratitude to those who stop and say such kind things. To me those little messages are like drops of water in the desert. So though the words are trifle in response I still wanted to say thank you.

It is a spectacular explosion
Of strange puffy whiteness
Daring to duel against
Huge light grey blue hued
Storm clouds
Descending into night time
Star strewn colors
Till the cool cumulous disappear
And the evening rain falls here

Do not wake me
Do not take my sleep
Haven’t I suffered enough
Wont you just leave please
Take me back to my dreams
Where I might find
A modicum of peace

I let my dreams hurt me,
helped hope hang me out to dry.
I watch the world go crazy
and sometimes I wanted to die.
Still, in the morning
just before I remember my life
I get a glimpse of hope
and the irony of it all
makes me laugh.

Seventy-four miles
To go back to the last place
Where the seven-year-old
Still felt safe

Back before
The depression
And suicide attempts
Where he tried to electrocute,
Poison, and cut his way out

Back before the confusion
And loneliness
The dangerous
Expressions
Of discontent
Back before all that rage

Back before the
Belt, brush, board
Broom, mop, physical
And verbal
Abuse

Back before
The Freddy Krueger
Nightmares

To a place that had changed
Where everything
Just seamed
So much smaller
And all the kids
Had gone so much farther
Away
Only I remained
In that delusional place

Seventy-four miles
To find
You can only go back
In your mind

It has been years
Since I slept
On a park bench
On a playground slide
In a ***** hallway
With a broken window

But I see me in him
Strange haircut
Face tats
Slightly *****
Talking to a stranger
And crying

I walk by
Afraid to interrupt
But in the store
I plan out how I will
Help
Exiting excited
I find he is gone

I drop my car
At the mechanic’s shop
Across from Walmart
And walking away
Almost stumble upon
A nearly slumbering form
I mumble some
Pleasantries
Pass him a ten
And let him be
It rains that night
But I don’t think
About him at all

Next day the car is fix
I head home
And see him walking
I open my car door
To give him a ride to the store
One open bottle of cider alcohol
Out of a six pack
I have to stop myself
On the verge of judging
But who am I
He accepts my ride
Putting the seat back
To fit him and his backpack
And blue tarp

I drop him at the front spot
I sit my care safely in
The parking lot
Then come back
Offer him a phone call
And sit and wait
And sit and chat
He says that no one
Has ever done that

He tells me that
People in town
Have been nice
And now he has a ride
Up to Peoria
I give him another five
And forget about him
Till now

And all the king’s men
Were a cursedly rotten bunch
Took the corrupt out to lunch
While their allies launched
Bombs that eviscerated
The hearts and bodies
Of the foreigners and natives

She was a cloud of smoke.
She was ecstasy.
She was DMT,
such a sweet trip
for me.
She was the golden apple,
ambrosia’s kiss,
and all those other drugs
that I never did.
She was a shot of *****
with an orange juice chaser.
Over all she was one hell of
a hangover.

It is just a thing
barely a temporary fix
that does not mix
with the mind’s expansions
does not help you grow
or know
new worlds
within or without.

It will not save you
or take you to
new and grand places
with unknown faces.
Unless, it is a book.

It was not his fault
That she could not see
The spiraling gas clouds
Swirling in infinity
Strange shades
Of space dust
Sparkling in the
Solar inferno
Pink, orange,
Purple, and green
While comets
Swam in-between

He played in dreams
While she lived
In black and white worlds
Dull and colorless
Rank and hateful realities
Pain for pleasure
Uneven payments
Unfair debt piling up
Heartache so deep
That it blotted out the stars

Bare skinned
Cold and biting
To incinerating
It was exhilarating
Earth came and went
The moon passed him
The sun shriveled in
Creating a hole
To another universe
His mind expanded
Like the last one

She was the last one
He tried to take with him
The last love
He was light enough
To guide her through
Her own abyss
On into
Her own accelerated evolution
Past the white clouds
Of choking pollution
And deep confusion
Tied to lack of introspection

As he journeyed on into
A new universe with a new sun
She stayed behind
And died young
Suffocating in the darkness

Maybe I don’t deserve to be sad,
didn’t do something bad,
and the fortune I had
is ok.

Maybe all this **** ain’t my fault.
The wars were not mine.
I did commit those crimes.

Maybe the truth is,
I spent too much time in the dark,
but today has my heart,
and the sun feels so good

You can hide
The door to night
Lock up the darkness
And embrace the light,
But time will
Take your sight
Take your fight
Sap your will
Until you feel
The door open
And take you
To nowhere

I fear nothing like my own shadow.
That dark presence that lurks in my mind,
The person who pushed past the past
But was still struggling
The fast food **** up
Pre college degree dude
Who achieved nothing
But regular bouts of pain
Who simmered in sorrow
Sweating sick depression
Who swallowed so many pills
Who pushed razors in to his skin
But barely bled
Chased demons in and out of his head
Read and read and read
The lonely one
The angry one
Who lived by himself
Saw his best friend move away
Lost his grandpa
Woke up crying regularly
In remembering myself
I fear I will go back there
And be locked up
In his pain all over again

I will take what hurts me
use it to make me stronger
turn heartache to compassion
turn depression into insight
turn anger into a weapon
against the cruelty of this world

I will burn but my fire
will light the heavens
and through me
you will see
how great we all can be.

Death is not fair.
It does not care
or breath.
It does not take
what bleeds
leaving seeds
to spring into
a lighter view
of the heavenly
some days.
It discriminates
against the poor
taking them more
other day it plays
with the wealthy.
It does not balance
or think
grow or shrink.
It is not a tangible being
or a solid thing.
It will not make a deal
no matter how deep you feel.
It is not your enemy or friend.
It is simply the end.

I am stupider when i know but smarter when i think.

Death is not fair.
It does not care
or breath.
It does not take
what bleeds
leaving seeds
to spring into
a lighter view
of the heavenly
some days.
It discriminates
against the poor
taking them more
other day it plays
with the wealthy.
It does not balance
or think
grow or shrink.
It is not a tangible being
or a solid thing.
It will not make a deal
no matter how deep you feel.
It is not your enemy or friend.
It is simply the end.

Is it my fault
That you cannot
Follow me into
The darkest rooms

Failing to see
The click clacking
Of death tracking
Innocence

Failing to feel
Parallels of pain
Emotions you can’t name

Am I to blame
Because I softened my words
To be heard
Whispered
Instead of yelling
Smiled and joked
Instead of crying

So you kept lying
To yourself
Measuring value
As an integer of wealth
Check marked
Your vacant heart
Filling infinity
With nothing

Is it my fault
Because
I did not argue harder
For the sane way
Did not strain
Enough to say
Please stay
With me
And our shared humanity

Now your boots
Sound of conformity
A terrible drum
Poking me
And I can see
Where this beat
Leads
But you will not
Believe me

So when you reach for
The cold and deadly knife
Stuck in the heart of humanity
To pull it out
And bleed out
When you finally see and agree
Will you blame or forget me

I wrote a beautiful song
With a sweet soft melody
Said that it was my life
But the truth is it was just me
Tapping out a heartbeat
Praying loved ones
Wouldn’t leave me
While I was busy
Already leaving

This poetry gave me wings
So I flew like Icarus
Wanted to touch the sun
And feel her burning lips
Got just close enough
To know that still love exists
Before she melted me

I love to write
But now my computer screen
Is going in and out
It keeps on flickering
And my inner voices
Are all bickering
Hope is triggering
My fear of dying

I got one foot in Olympus
And the other in the river Styx
Praying for some old prose glory
Hoping my poetic story
Will still exist
When the rest of me
Is whited out permanently

She was a dangerous current
deep and moving
ready to drown me.

She was a dangerous current
pulsing electric
ready to burn me.

She was a dangerous current
but currently she avoids me
claiming she is nightshade,

But the painful truth is
I was not good enough
to be loved.

Long neck
Not some beer bottle
But a soft waddle
As his beak
Pecks and plucks
Roots, and grassy stuff
To munch

Black eyes
With a white chin
And a face
That goes
From black
To white
And back again

Feathers folded in
Light brown
Gray and fading
Flutter nervously
When he sees me
Approaching

Beautiful, distracting
Extracting me from my
Deep reflections
And ancient sorrows

I watch web feet
Walk into that small sea
And see a water stream
Follow him
As he swims
Away

I can only dance on
The strings of memory
That tether me
To my younger self
For so long
Before the emotional
Barrier is gone
And depression
Reigns once again

Trust me there is so much more to you then the person who broke your heart. You are a river of words in which you can never step on the same thought twice. Please do not be defined by what you no longer have, be unlimited, unchained to a past which causes you so much pain.

Nature was the dress she wore
Grass skirt and flowery shirt
Brown sleeves of mud
And ocean blue shoes

What a beautiful bottle of
black haired poison she was,
a perfect shade of night.

I slipped in beneath her skin
plunging deeper and deeper inside;
Until her mind consumed mine,
till her needs became mine.

She ripped her wings
and I bled from my shoulder blades.

She scratched her eyes out
and I wept long thin lines
of pungent red wine.

Without any hesitation
She performed a trepanation
so she could shed
the glass that scraped
the insides of her head
and I died instead,

so when her phoenix fire
threatened to consume the world
I flew like a ****** angel
raining wet red roses into her ashes

When the last brown leaf
Fall beneath your feet
From the last soft breeze

When the last wave falls
And the shiny green brine
Is only a shade in your mind

When the last wolf howls
And the last bird leaps
Trying to soar
But falling before
The last wind
Can catch him

When the clouds come no more
And metal works
Lay scattered
Along with the shattered
Brick buildings

When the last mother
Touches the tiny fingers
Of the last born baby
Knowing no more
Will be born

When life is only a static echo
Spreading out in space
And this human race
Can only be known
By radio and tv signals

It is the one part
That does not
Matter
Veins strangle
The pulsing mass
Squeezing till
It is a pulpy goo
Unrequited affections
Scream their torment
Wake me harshly
From dark day dreams
See painted fingernails
Press my flesh
Until skin gives way
To a ****** Sunday
Till my pen is spent
Red ink dripping in
Ancient tableaus
Finds me longing
To do what lovers do
Poisonous asp, or dagger
Skyscraper, or fire
To silence desire’s
Unfair punishment

My pen cries wax tears
dripping on the floor
from the bedroom
to the bathroom door.

While you lay sipping
sweet intoxicants
I walk, partly slipping
trying to reach your side
trying to believe the lie
that love exists somewhere.

But someone else sings for you,
while my heart bleeds the truth.

The white crow flies
laughing in the night,
“Never was and never will be
you will never ever catch me.”