Placating My Sugar

Rage, rage, against the dying of the light they say and I snuff it out willing, well not really haven’t had such an occasion in years, in probably a decade even but the wishes keep coming. “Placating My Sugar”, I try, another day would be easier

They tell me to hurry up
from since I was tied
to a grasshopper, but they insist.

Only I have been hushed
for so long, I don’t know if inside
it’s impossible, immoral, illegal, insane, a wish

As my poor heart was crushed,
But nowhere to run to baby, nowhere to hide
and I’m stuck with this

Just a word too much;
suicide it’s a suicide
waiting to blow, waiting for Miss?

What’s her name, what’s mine, in the mush
being melted damn near fried
by how many candles, day one ish

A touch of love, of death, or a girl at the sagebrush
Yet I am preoccupied
blowing out this yearly dish
One more sugar rush

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

How to Fireproof Happy

Plenty of days I don’t think Happy even exist but why should I be happy on this particular day, shouldn’t I be happy every day or at least be allowed to look for it in my own way, even in my darkness. “How to Fireproof Happy” don’t expect any candles

A star, a wish, just the one
When I can’t even recognize my own name
So here comes the sun,
Only there is pain, there are flames
Can you make this day snappy?

How long was it until my parents were through?
They don’t even admit their mistake
Their wish didn’t come true
either, oh the heartbreak
with this day but mammy and pappy

can’t we all agree
to blame someone, anyone as the cake melts
because the last thing we need is me blowing
anything else, since I’m going to Hell
As I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death for
I know there is no other path and you know
the same. So on this day I ask for nothing more
not a candle, not a bulb, not an inferno
nothing as sappy

like the knowledge that I am still alive
This does not make me a liar
Just like five fingers don’t always mean goodbye
I didn’t start the fire
So maybe I can still see the happy

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Bravely Lit

It’s getting around that time and I’m sure I have my picture, my name, hell probably a police file, I can pretty much guarantee my name is in lights and will be but not in any flattering away and I am always chasing the light aren’t I. “Bravely Lit”.

Don’t sing, don’t wish, don’t say
because I have, on all the stars
but they still seem so far
and the cake is melting.
Were you trying to compete with the sun
I’m on the run

fam with every reason to stay
and that’s why I get high.
Those neon lights are in my sight,
only I want “Easy Street”
where I spread my love and fly
to know that I’m alive

I’ll make some days, always
From “how does that look daddy”
I’ll sing let’s see
while the police fingerprint me
I won’t lie about this
No not to my kids

when under fluorescent lights I’ll lay
with doctor’s asking what’s my age again.
The lights from where I been
don’t follow me six feet
So today, teach me to be brave
blow out the candles, a few more to the grave

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Rut On Earth

Every day is exactly the same as the song goes but that isn’t always a bad thing, especially when you’re living with anxiety, you know just how much energy you’re going to need, you can put one foot in front of the other “Rut On Earth”

The sun can only dig so far
while the other stars play big wigs
Having so many promises to renege
upon they say what they are,
job creators, they are those kings, czars
giving me this full-time gig
asking me why I never studied trig.
How bizarre

that it doesn’t hurt
I suppose Atlas is used to the abuse
Walking, running, these combat boots
Don’t run in the grass, or play in the dirt
and if you see a pretty girl in a skirt
pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes
though the point is probably moot
Nowadays it’s a concert,

left, right, repeat, but what
if there was a way not to be a slave
to the rhythm to live brave,
nut up or shut up
Only the ground has become a slut
for punishment and how depraved
is it for me to dig my own grave
one day and a time, a rut?

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

My Tea, Mighty, Will

I suppose coffee drinkers might feel something like this to a degree, know plenty of people that don’t think at all until they have a cup but as for myself, I’m learning to enjoy Tea Time, remind me not to watch Cathouse on HBO “My Tea, Mighty, Will”

My tea, mine and not yours
iced and sweet maybe
going in mugs all fancy, see
how I had this craving, and you’re just one more
today or tomorrow, the day after
Yearning to be more than a chapter

My, my, the stories, driven by testosterone’s
imagination, and a lifetime of biology
God’s prayers, wishes, a bit of astrology
have men wishing they were grown
to be whatever this world needs.
You believe

my cross, my sacrifice, no not a lowercase t
Is all about… regret, blame, insane, shame
Going to have me singing “You’re so vain”
Haven’t you heard I’m completely
totally… and wow this good
You want some, you should

While it’s still hot, basking in the sunshine
it’s the best part of waking up
learning not to think of a… I said what, what?
Lord give me my tea time

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

One’s Cent Able Pants

What do you get when you cross, the “owner of a lonely heart”, a sagebrush ranch temptress, and the movie “They Live” and should I also mention “Fiddler On the Roof” perhaps? One’s Cent Able Pants, well it beats the pants Negan was talking about

Wearing out my poor heart
only to let it break
Making it restart
and to be some woman’s mistake
No, yes, maybe, which is

going to be, every word
I would ever care to utter
Really there’s a lot of pretty girls,
ladies somewhere or another

believe it or not these eyes of mine
always saying baby, baby oh, “babe”
behave cause the gods are crazy, and the stars are blind
So it seems I’ll be needing stitches

cause some chicks drive a man crazy
However, did I figure that out?
If only I could be Jay Z,
could I be rich, out and about?
Kardashian style riches

Dare I dream “If I Were a Rich Man”
All to get lucky, quickie, some
Maybe it wouldn’t matter who I am
even if it were one million, one thousand, one hundred, but one’s
sensible pants and a Dame’s games can be a real bit… hehe wallets in my britches

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Match Point

Matches and some bombs use to be so aerodynamic, not so much anymore though we still have plenty to go around; it is beliefs now, words that are burning the world a new era of Fahrenheit 451, we don’t just look at the books burning. Match Point

Was a match enough?

to set Rome to burn?
Learning in the darkness
regardless of rhyme or reason
Treason not to fight

Write the answer to where is the love?
Above, my lord do we not reach out
shout out with our bombs, missiles, rockets
stop it, my words, your words, his words

urge us not to rage but puff,
snuff out the last of the light

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Family Portrait

Fortunately, I never truly talk to my family, even better there is only my dog and me, being somebody’s husband… or having kids with two legs instead of four? Family Portrait, but it’s getting sort of crowded in here I think.

Okay so I’m my own secret society
before her, before them, before him
but my dog is my best friend
Cause he doesn’t need an answer or three
as I’m trying to be husband, daddy, what’s the matter
with me and it just makes me sadder
Don’t let them in, don’t let them see, my expression
“I’m fine” the words squeak out
Some father, some spouse, more house

Only if I could afford it, show some propriety
Most people count their money
I count at the door, the tiles on the floor, who’s laughing at me
Can I have a moment of peace
When everything is five by five
Working I strive
Decide then I will feel alive, an obsession
maybe I’m normal, human, an ordinary human, my girl
says there is more to this world

Oh if I could only see it, such variety
Still, the ground looks the same
Sad tears, painful, I’m sure they think I’m insane
Clowns can be sad, especially, when they believe
that’s not their true
calling, so who are you
Did I give you the impression
perhaps I cared in the first place.
I need more space

One man and his anxiety
and still, I wonder why I can’t breathe
Counting seats for my O.C.D.
my dog, me and the
disease known as Depression

Now Say Cheese

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.



No One Goes There

Nowhere to run or hide, to be stuck and afraid, or sometimes to even embrace this place in life, but who can truly do that? No One Goes There but how I have been reminded I was on my way so many years ago.

Where you gonna Turn
Which direction
Haven’t you learned?
Nothing but correction
Going round in circles

Left or right
By those that claim purple
Blinded by the light

Where you gonna Seek
Already there
What they say about the meek
Why should you care?
About a cure

The answer
It’s like cancer
Truth kills faster

Where you gonna Go
It’s a small world
Don’t you know?
So what if home were

Monsters don’t confess
You know the deal
A life repossessed

Where you gonna Run
Can you even see?
In the setting sun
All you have is feet
And then you fall

Flat on your face
Do you bawl?
When the monsters taste

Where you gonna Hide
Because you’ll believe the lie
Are you scared?
You should be

Already lost
Not like me
Your soul the cost

Where you gonna go
Run or hide
No one knows
Or finds

No One Goes There

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Looking Grim

I played with the thought, quite a bit actually but if you see the year yeah I survived, I made my way back to the land of the living… am I actually calling this living now hmm? Looking Grim, to be honest things have looked better often enough really

Better than… acting
As if you know the truth
Like life you’re attacking
But do you follow through
Or are you snacking
Leaving it to your stunt crew

Better than… showing
The whole damn world
Where we’re going
What’s the word?
Cheated but defeated?
Blind and deaf
Yet we all meet it

Better than… knowing
Tricks are for kids
But we’re growing
Too big
Bigger you think
Than what’s to come
Kool-Aid to drink
Or you run

Better than… towing
Wisdom and knowledge
Where you going
For me it wasn’t college
Call me confused and lost
If you’re not going to die
Why carry the cross
Jigsaw’s my guy

Better than… lacking
The cure
Success is tapping
But I learned
What’s happening
And so I’ll burn

Because it’s more than a look
It’s me
That cooks
And I see
But was not shook
At what has to be

A blessing and a sin
My brother’s keeper
Better than… looking grim
A look at the Grim Reaper

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.