Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

A Poem: Surprise.

December 30, 2008

Surprise.
by Clyde Grant II

Bang!
Wait…
It’s too late to hear you.
I’ve already felt you.
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A Picture – A Poem.

May 6, 2008

Picture

A picture, is worth a thousand words.
A photographer, is a writer…

Clyde Grant II

Untitled/Unfinished – A Poem.

May 4, 2008

Mo-City’s a desert, barren,
But I have to remember, now & then,
That my heart is where home is,
That beautiful oasis,
Tumors are equal to eagles,
Which spark & depart from their beaks like bullets,
And float away as if doves, from your corpse- Remorseless,
Leaving vultures to visit, & devour what’s left of your flesh,
Pecking at the bullet-casings, lodged inside of your carcass

Valerie – A Poem.

May 4, 2008

Valerie

A new t-shirt.
100 sit ups.
Finding something I lost.
Killing an ant,
right after it bites me…


Watching Fight Club,
for the umpteenth time…
Finishing a Robert Greene book.
Listening to UGK.
A good idea.


Quinton’s jokes.
The taste of a double whataburger w/cheese.
A dollar I found on the ground.
Waking up on a,
foggy Wednesday morning…


Wrapped in a warm blanket,
in a cold room…
Learning something new.
A neat self-portrait.
Valerie.


Clyde Grant II

Leftovers – A Poem.

March 31, 2008

Leftovers

She opens the refrigerator…
So empty, so cold.
Bits and pieces of things to make anew,
Whilst I sit there, mundane…so old.
Boldy, I stand out,
Sore, and green…
I remember, I seen,
Moments ago,
When the darkness faded away,
And her face- a ray of light,
Shone upon me with such gaiety.
Unable to speak in the way I wished,
I simply marveled at her presence;
My essence, marble,
Her stomach, garbled with desire.
Her eyes, set ablaze with hunger.
I, lazily lingered ever close to the tips of her fingers…
A monopoly in my mind,
A windfall…
But as sure as the winds wind,
A look of regret descends upon her,
And the darkness returns once more…
She now, pines a restuarant,
That she hasn’t been to in awhile.
 I now sit alone in the darkness,
With the bits and pieces…
Never again will I be whole,
To my dismay, I decay.

A Poem: Unfinished, Untitled…

March 18, 2008

I once thought the,
Friend-zone was the end-zone,
As I finish this chapter,
I feel an ache within my wristbones,
Caused by a cloned feeling…
Why, does history repeat itself?