Best Graffitied Poems

There is a sense of trespass 
on this frost enameled morning
as I leave my footprints graffitied
across the white grass,
sending the noise of every step 
to...

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"POMPEII"



Her name was Pompeii
and I her mother,
loving her beyond measure,
took great angst, my heart bursting
from the betrayal - 
she, taking several lovers
basking in the underworld
where...

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His hand is strafing the castellation on his trumpet, the valves moving up down up down like deranged pistons under the random machine gun fire...

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I - this vacant building, dilapidated by years and cold inadvertence.

    Obscurities dance in my eaves, ravenous belfry bats, scouring dusk -

...

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The stench of urban decay winds thick 
and rank through squalid, narrow
streets christened with booze and urine,
permeating decades of neglect.

A drunken derelict slurs enthusiastic 
amens...

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He greeted me when we met this morning,
No handshake.
Just a 'Hello'
And while we stood there,
In perfect stance, 
I studied him a bit more.

He seemed calm,...

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For Shame
Their cold bronze eyes stare out at us from busy thoroughfare
 Heroic gaze and presence met with apathetic  stare
The marble plinths now stained...

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Charlie’s got an old bar outside of town.
It’s pretty seedy and plenty run down.
Characters who don’t lightly suffer fools
go there to drink whisky and to...

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There once was a girl named Valorie
Who graffitied on a gallery

When the owner came out
She started to shout

“Where is my hard-earned salary?”...

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The ledge is where it begins
and ends. She feels her slip rise,

her rusted wings quiver into use.
She knows the wind has a language

of its own...

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When we first met, 2012 was abstract chalk on the sidewalk.  He began leaving his soul, but making sure it wasn't permanent like lies...

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The hate of time havocs foolish fate
And I, no one's blank slate
Will not my conscience hesitate
Or cast my eyes down at evening's gate.

You are neither...

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Feeling lost
Will I find my purpose?

I have no direction to go
About the only thing I know

I see your glow. But that hardly puts paper in...

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pink azaleas
in a vacant lot:
graffitied walls...

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What delights await
those who punctuate
with alacrity and precision.
And reserve for those who don't,
or won't, their enmity and derision.
For there's nothing worse
than a rhyme, or verse,
that...

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