Sleepy Nights

Somewhere to go 
Watch over me as i sleep 
Be the In Between 

Take a Minute (The Poem)

 

The solemn aggression and pain of lonely nights, the darkness and disputes shine upon city lights

 

I sway in the wind as the feeling of doom creeps in despite all the advantages of a perpetuating preconceived desires and barren roads that seem to never end

 

They say I’m kidding but it’s a fact, it’s a stereotype of the prejudice that’s built to react

 

My past influences the way I act

 

The messages from society shield wondrous dreams, and I’m beginning to waste away it seems, and if you don’t help me now ill fade away in the misery Day in Day out

 

 

 

Misery finds a home it always does, a problem evolves from me to us, and if looks could kill I’d bury your trust

 

I’d always had my heart in hand, I always said if the tide rose I’d stand, maybe I’m just not god’s man

 

As times passes so quick, in motion my life makes me sick, and you remind me of all the things that were ever said by knowing me when my face was plastered red

 

Controlling each impulse and feeling with empty meds, and the tribulation of being hungry and having yet to be fed no, because sometimes I feel like I’m going to just drop dead

 

It’s the nights I loathe and the daylight I dread, I’m wasting away in bed, the feeling is beginning to spread and I’m fading, I’m fading Day In, Day Out, Day In, Day Out

 

 

 

Smash the window resulting in bloody knees, disgusting fiends waiting for the itch to cease

 

The moments of day when I struggle to breath, delaying celebrations because I’m trying to prove to myself that I still even believe

 

And, I remember so clearly the days I slit my wrist, I remember so clearly all the risks I took to exist

 

To abort an idea and watch it wheeze, set fire to the world, hopes and bars

 

My mind is becoming an exhibition that transcends dimensions for tradition, just so I can have faster cars, sometimes I think there is a moon man and I’m living on mars

 

And no I’m not gonna shot for the stars again, fall from the sky and die breathing in air I used to rely in

 

Day in, Day Out, the reality never speaks it shouts, Day in, Day Out, Day In Out, but I don’t want to fade away, I don’t want to leave this world today

 

There is a memory so stand still, Take a Minute prior to pulling the trigger because now I’ve got a view to a kill

 

I was promised good things that end, and I always knew they would

 

I tried to conquer this world, and even as I falter I know I still could

 

So many perfect shapes, how do I compete? Truth is what you perceive but depending on how much you believe will raise the limits on all that you receive.

 

I’m looking at the quiet sky again, and I’m looking at a close up of the past on New Year’s Eve, the silence holds aggression that builds belief, like blasphemy and grace creating a new me yeah

 

Day creeps and night tends, I’ve got the devil inside yet I ascend, and I blend animosity like it’s a trend, nutrition for a theory fueling hypocrisy, with hate so far the eye can’t see

 

And it’s the times of the night that remind, that if it wasn’t for the hate I couldn’t be me, the evil entity

 

 

 

Have you been able to pontificate about dark days and bright nights that we’ve got, making magic out of the illusions of the people in which we are not

 

I can’t think straight, the pain must stop, because if I stay to off balance I’ll drop These are the days when a father is needed by his son

 

I need someone to pick up the pieces instead of turning around to run, I need a clearer vision of the sun, because some days I feel like a big mistake, and then others like the chosen one, these are the days when I’m reminded how I was born by the knife and will live by a gun

 

This teenage minacity is less innocent then a stroll on the city, or the brutality of the town without pity, revenge and repent, tragedy of the years of doves and mud, and the present terror of the past blood

 

Stuck in my mind, its Day in Day out, stuck in design, the fear, the terror I can’t speak much clearer

 

Because the chills become sincerer, its Day in Day Out, the place more lights to shine on my drought

 

I don’t want to drown or burn away, I want to rise above and howl what I’ve got to say, without delay I want all of hell to pay before I fade away. It’s the glimpse of hope, misery of gleams, Day In Day Out its not what it seems 

For More from Anthony Day Grandin:

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrgv3RUOtk8

https://www.facebook.com/citybreaksitspromise

Welcome to Hunts Point, New York City. They called it the Point, a small neighborhood in the South Bronx. Known for its red lights district, violence and poverty, Hunt’s Point is a tough place to survive. 
Spiro Tobick and his sister Sephrina were born during the crack epidemic to two homeless addicts. Eventually addiction took its toll on them and after their parents disappeared Spiro was forced to take responsibility before he was even thirteen.
The streets were no match for Spiro’s desire and ambitions to allow his sister to be as comfortable as possible. He sold candy on the subway, stole from stores and sold weed during the day and then cleaned up chop shops, ran errands for prostitutes and worked in trap houses at night. 
Spiro did all he could to protect his sister, but eventually they were caught and sent through Foster Care. After years of being tortured by their Foster Father and ravaged by the system their cries are heard and their Uncle adopts them. 
Ten years later, tension reaches its peak in the relationship between Spiro and Sephrina and she departs on a Heroin binge. Worried sick, Spiro accepts a deadly task from his Uncle who is the boss of Hunts Point’s major crime syndicate. Spiro realizes this would advance his request to get a job in Manhattan away from Hunts Point. Spiro tries aimlessly to get away but the past wouldn’t let him go. 
With a heart simmering with guilt and memories of a painful past, Spiro searches for answers and his sister, finding so much more in the process. With so much to lose, will Spiro balance his life without losing himself? Will he fall to deep in the process? Or will Sephrina become yet another victim of the promises of the city?

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The City Breaks Its Promise (Purchase Page)

The City Breaks Its Promise (Purchase Page)

My First Book is finally available for sale! 
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Please Visit the page http://www.facebook.com/citybreaksitspromise and http://www.anthonygrandin.com!! Let me know what you guys think of the poems and the book!!! Also the book trailer is out! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrgv3RUOtk8, Thanks Guys!

GRAND

I preached unforgiving winters, wrote hot summers, plunged the shit down the pipes with conservative effort like Joe the Plumber. With an enlightened rage, i divided my page, multiplied the masses to the sum of all fears. Extracted every last tear, i bled out from my eyes, with the elegance of a oligarch and a nerd, simplifying the smarts to create a vocabulary thats never been heard. Im not supreme but i aim when i spit, my critics really arent shit, with their insults i hydrate my wit.

Im the prodigal son with cardiac detention, content with evolution as i smoke your dreams in mid air suspension. I may not have as much as you, but I breath, reconstruct and swerve with an audacity and ill die with my Strawberry Grandin Crew. My critics can half step, but they are an improper fraction, and i observe your rhetoric on a table of decimals, because you arent whole. Enjoy your lifeless cornish hen, antics are rotten, i mutilated your life with my four hundred dollar pen.

Grand is a conglomerate, compared to lost souls, ill pen a revolution to destroy motherfuckers with seperate goals. Searching for Gold, fiery with mean heat with intent to turn my self doubt into mincemeat. You are alive when you do something dangerous, I wrapped my aunts scarf around my hand, synthesized the sun with ink when i took the name of Grandin. I wrote this poem, and i felt so much pride. Lets unleash our fury and break stuff. I know when times had gotten rough, the loudest bird had a time when he wasnt tough enough. You are half as raw, drenched in fake grit, count my cuts and then my jewellery before i smash your jaw. Gold bracelet, we’re the new nation, you need to face it. We will cook, brew and bake delicious dishes with an aroma that smells so strong of success that i taste it. We didnt get here from slacking, Laura, Chris and I didnt live a perfect life, we created art from the dark nights full of tears and fears. This is Grand, on the count of three we stand, and run a marathon on the road to success. So ill go with good to great, Look me in the eyes, the field is dialated, so do you think you could knock me down and seal my fate?

WordSmith

Writers block is an affliction, i voyaged downstream to conflict my addiction. I dropped it like a bad habit, i blended animation with reality like Roger Rabbit, then threw in animosity to be emphatic. The writers block kept me in a straightjacket, humming a tune. He’d feed me once in a blue moon.

So i sat in the corner, creating a masterpiece in my head. The block struck my idea dead, and i cried for hours, i heard the ringing of the aecidic showers. The depressed apologist in the shadow of a high tower. I saw no flowers, or any beauty, my brain fought back but the block forced mutiny. I observed the waves of social regimes, i watched as the upper echelon prowled. I handled my heart by my spirit growled. It was time to write, Die or Fight. Take these clouds to an ominous sight. and build narrative around pure spite. Sprinkle the future with seeds, i wanted to watch something grow while my spirit fed upon the poetic dictator. A caniving self induced player hater.

So i built and i planned, the drive of fire never left my hand. The chains hurt my gaunt leg, that night was the worse because i was forced to plead and beg. Who the fuck said life was easy, the difficulty level continued to rise enough to make any punk queasy. I was born a wordsmith, assassinating every obstacle with my whimsical gift. This was my honor, my pain, and glory. I weave hate and love into a beautiful story, with a cruel end. As the world crumbles, ill leave my live to send.

It was sunrise and i opened my tired eyes. The sun shined a light on my fears, on the tears of a lost and dying soul. But my grandma taught not to listen to bullshit, so i tore off my ear. I was covered in blood, warmed my motivation of a savage improvisation. Its mud before the trophy above, the war came before the flock of doves. I pulled my leg from the chain, gradually leaving behind a past that was so bleak. Im Grandin, minutes, hours, days passed by i stand by my crash landing.

I was gone, the prison walls were burnt with my prototype heart. I had my armor and my pen, motherfucker Im ready to start. I wrote a symphony, comprised of jubilant lyrics and a falsetto heretic. I created an entity, my name is Grand in nature, so just call me the Brotha man. I had an epiphany, I love you, you love me, this world evolves, everyday there is more to see. I visited guilt’s grave while keeping every sweet memory I could save. Writers Block had an upper hand, Yo, im ambidextrous. This is a Statement

Death Of Love

Did you remember the first time we held hands

Sliding across the couch not sure what to think or what to know

Where we were didn’t matter, we didn’t know where we’d go

We’d count to ten to open our eyes

Close them for the rest of the night

It was like finding god, a lovelorn soul finding their way

Things never changed like that before

Missing each other on a frosty night singing songs into the phone

Crying yourself to sleep now that you’re alone

But the death of love is nothing to be scared of, it’s just a clock ticking on

Your departure haunts my very sense of safety

Because I remember when we’d go to the river that was south of my land

Writing down everything you said, while the voice in my head reminds me that we moved on

I look at the screen expecting your call

I think to pick you up in case you would fall

But as time goes on

Time goes on and our love seperates as the seconds pass

I remember your skin so soft, but I knew that we couldn’t run past the horizon

And the death of love isn’t something to be scared, because it’s a fire blowing out

I Watch as The Roses Die

 

The sky separates with a message I don’t want to hear

As the world ends around me, I kneel down finally conceding defeat
Scribbles itched muscle deep into my arms, burned straight through the skin

Warning signs of the false messiah on the rise

And I can’t keep it together until the wait
I have to stay strong best I can, I have to learn to believe

There were only moments available
For me to look deep into my soul
A lonely adolescent with the weight of the world on his chest

Can you tell me it’s ok?
Or will you retreat as a tidal wave reigns down from up above the Universe
Holy Water seeping through the Earth healing our regime and preparing for the next

 

Dumbed Down (Poetic Justice)

This is the way to go, I’ll give you my two cent

Trying to get a few dollars, which I already spent

We are the generation of broken dreams, and we resent all the splattered passion on the walls of endearment

We have to understand that these days are of a lesser being
we have to talk all about what we are seeing

Don’t be confused by the nights that hide the street lights

Don’t say it’s wrong when you know its right
we came to the scene with aspirations

We left with anger and a will to fight

Because the stars and moon paint a different picture

My eyes are looking upon a visual lecture

To be or not to be was the old question?
Now it’s live fast die young because you only live once

Praying to a thousand suns that we aren’t sure are real

Judging character less then sex appeal

Not caring about faces, and distorting pride

Would you be happy with what you accomplished if you just fell over and died?