drvader666

What ever happened to the graffiti masters? Those virtuosos of spray paint Once, they reigned over this land Their masterpieces graced the highway overpasses So majestic, so refreshing Like a mountain stream The clouds of paint so vibrant Just like their counterparts at sunset The masters no longer grant us their beautiful arts They've been replaced Now only abysmally bland tags remain The symbols are there, but they lack character They’re just going through the motions There’s no beauty left The art is gone The ingenious has left leaving only the insipid The beautiful replaced by the banal The decorative displaced by the dull Lea

The droning cacophony continues I sit here, tortured Eternally damned to what is only by the most technical definition music But still I wait I know that here amongst the oblivious masses I’ll find her The other for whom I know beautiful music will play as soon as we unite

Out there She wanders the endless night The chilly lonely night The fruitless search continues Day by day Fear itself overcome by loneliness For loneliness is fear as well Two faces of the same haunting guise Faces that freeze me in place Body glistening with frozen crystals of sweat The night, so very cold Iced over, her heart slows Will she ever reach her goal All I know is that she’s somewhere Out there and I’m looking for her too

The cursed wretched scum of the Earth Spoiled our fair picnic and destroyed our mirth The foul assailents committed most heinous deeds They corrupted and devestated the food that feeds With our shoes we got revenge for what it was worth

Beware the Honey Badger with its vicious, gnashing teeth To slay it pull the vorpal blade from its sheath The Holy Hand Grenade is useless 'gainst this furry foe It targets a body part that is definitly not your toe After the Honey Badger is slain the kingdom will bequeath A jeweled monkey-pony monster plated in armor of gold-leaf

The brighter the light The deeper the shadow The worse the plight The longer the fields lay fallow The more silent the creeper The crazier the killer The specter of the reaper Don't ask what is in hot dog filler

"Death has a dignity all its own" words often spoken but perhaps never meant Does anyone ever truely see death as dignified? Poets of yore have claimed to to meet death as a friend but everyone in every time in every place has had some nagging doubt as to the true nature of the final curtain Death is personified because We Can't Handle The Truth Death is not personable Death is not kind nor is death malicous Death is natural Death is certain I don't mean to frighten I seek only to enlighten

Bottles only The faint yellow lines decorating the vast blue expanse Arrows circulate in a familiar pattern A deep blue not unlike the blue of the ocean, the midnight sky with just enough starlight to reveal the heavens A plastic bag with wrinkles remnincient of an ancient jellyfish The clear film seperates waste from container Recycle