Best Graffitied Poems

I remember the day my code first compiled  
    the rush of creation, of bringing order to chaos  
each line a neuron firing,    each function a heartbeat  
my digital child born into a world of infinite...

Continue reading...

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 crunch my presence 
into a wide, frozen silence.

I stop, marooned in the middle
of a crystalline surround 
that seems so brittle...

Continue reading...

"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 men are fickle
leaving unfinished poems
on walls shaking like loins
buried deep and dry
in denial of her 
sacrificial innocence,
welcoming rape, walking fire
tight,...

Continue reading...

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 of his fingers. Each note is a projectile that concusses the air, chases the one before it, nudges it from...

Continue reading...

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

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

      Notions, plans, dreams, impulses - the detritus that bloats their bellies.

    Scrawny,...

Continue reading...

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 in hopeful penance at a rabid 
street-corner prophet spitting frothy 
travesties of religious dogma and warning 
of the divine wrath...

Continue reading...

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 with piss record with misery
Of truth and Kings and Glorious dead condemned to history

Graffiti ‘s witless scribbles stains and mars...

Continue reading...

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, cool and collected,
And yet, his eyes revealed immature youth.
He seemed to care little of what others thought.
His half-hearted smile screamed...

Continue reading...

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 shoot pool.

Some huffy stuffy ladies from up-town
decided one day they’d shut Charlie’s down.
On a crusade, they made it their mission.
All...

Continue reading...

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 too. Its trusted wet tongue fills
its mouth. She could never put it back together

in time. She recoiled, unblooming
like the moon...

Continue reading...

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 girls have told a thousand times.  He began teaching me the dirt of people doesn't always wash away to...

Continue reading...

Door open,
hurtling loud and at full speed
towards my destination,
beneath me a blur 
of mounded ballast
and withered grass,
the world coming into focus more
the further out I look -
graffitied fences, factories 
still wearing the soot 
of steam trains from decades 
before, a mountain of stacked
wooden pallets, car...

Continue reading...

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 victim nor demon since
You of your error is unconvinced
I am a child no more to wince
When white sheets of mind...

Continue reading...

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 my pocket
Do you see mine? Do I have one?

I only have rags.
And bags of graffitied covered books

But I do have...

Continue reading...

She sits on the train looking out at the rain 
Another crap day full of pain 

The appointment is booked and she’s running late 
She wants to throw up and make it all go away 

She knows the route like the back of her hand...

Continue reading...