Parallel perception

Endless parallels carved through existence
a symbol of human achievement
creating a perception of eternity
fore and aft continuous interconnected railways
bind us together.

Sense of anticipation arises;
the mile long elephant approaches
heartbeat racing as the beast screams
it slows to its resting place

Scent of hot steel permeating the senses
each child in tow with its unique colour and textures
appreciating the art that adornes the mobile gallery

Making a mark
careful not to impede others
mighty monster of beauty
a graffiti artist's dream.

© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110918

Author note: This is my first non-rhyming write I've ever done, so I don't even know if it is a poem or not. I was inspired by a love piece the other day, so I tried writing without rhyming. This was completely against everything I've ever known. Critical feedback appreciated.

Up in the streets

Middle of broad daylight,
crew's got the scene tight,
so much better when I can see,
instead of the middle of the night,
a bag full of Molotow,
one in each hand,
as I stand on this pallet,
reaching as high as I can.
Got three throwies up,
but it still ain't enough,
I want to fill in faster,
but these fat caps kinda suck.

But I'm in luck,
the boys just want me to do the design,
they'll fill in the rest,
then let me do the outline,
but time,
isn't on my side...

I can't do a great big piece,
I've got a gallon of wheatpaste that will cook in this heat,
so they'll finish the bomb,
and in my calm, I'll whip out my brush,
and if I have any luck,
I'll get this stuck,
without drowning in this muck,
but if it happens,
I'll be laughin',
I'll jump in the river from the train bridge,
that we just walked passed.

Ten cans used, and a 10x10 paste,
I feel elated,
on this day,
I wrote two poems while my boys sprayed and waited.

Get out, get up,
it's what the world needs,
more artistic love,
put up in the streets.

© spektrum aka. sieco aka. delyrius 2011

My graffiti

Only a pen and a paper, is on my wishlist,
my writing comes and goes, just like hit or miss,
but I'll never give up, I'll do what I always did,
I've given up everything else,
but writing I'll never quit.

I feel at home, when I visit the inner city streets,
writing graff with a crew, that doesn't belong to me,
acting as a spotter, as I write with my pen,
but now someone's done,
and its my turn to write with the spray can.

I write love everywhere, all over city streets,
if you happen to notice it, it was probably me.
From Calgary to Halifax, you can see my art,
the law can't even keep, me and my spray cans apart.

But what about your wheatpastes,
thought you were eco friendly,
well ya, but the odd time my cans come with me,
it's like my medication,for my bipolar disease,
a sense of openness, a spiritual release.

Look at the spray, as rust proofing and weather protection,
everything I write, is written with intention.
It doesn't hurt you, and it soothes my soul,
I'm not a vandal, I just wanna feel whole.

So the next time you see graff, try to envision what they're sayin',
it could be inner pain, that the writer is stating.
It could be keeping someone, out of real trouble,
in all reality, the cans allow me to release my feelings,
and get out of my bubble.

So when you see my art, on a wall or train bridge,
have some empathy, and accept it for what it is.
I keep it in areas, that are owned publicly,
I'm in places you might not look,
so my art must be seen specifically.

© Steve Bertrand aka. stevieb 20110827