Tag: Fall

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

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I’m not right. When I know I’m wrong, I don’t exactly stop. Moral compass? All those don’t steal, don’t kill, and the rest. I know a few companies that would be pissed. My son is dead. And when X/Twitter is reporting on crimes. “Wrong Answers, B, V.”

Thursday, October 26, 2023

Tale 117 ~Wrong Answers, B, V~

998 Days Without B III, Day 439 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? It’s only 7:30 here, and I woke up at 4:00. Yesterday was even worse, B.

Not to sound like “Since U Been Gone…” I’ve looked at you as the angel on my shoulder, Braxton. But I would call you a little douche. And what was the middle ground? Just B. Every day, I wake up wishing you could just be. Because at the end of the day, your good dog moments beat out your bad puppy antics. It doesn’t work that way with men religiously. And when did I become one of the righteous? “I’m a man of God, but I don’t need a savior.” What I mean, Triple B, is I tried to “Do the Right Thing.” Saving you? Braxton, it couldn’t be done, and trying to keep you alive would have been a “Way Wrong Answer!” Killing you?

I swear B that there are no right answers in this world. And maybe that was your secret B III. You never answered questions. Hell! How many pictures do I have of your eyes, B? One of the few things Virgil Vivi has in common with you is that he doesn’t answer me. Wasn’t that one of the rules I had for you? Answer me so I know where you are in the room. It was the only way I could protect you. And again, did I? I failed miserably. And it’s not like you answer any of these letters anyway. I’m starting to feel like Bella from New Moon. Can I not think about Kristen Stewart or any girl? Another reason I’m late today

Yeah, Wednesday was a shit show. My head got slammed by a shelf Wednesday. But seeing how I woke up today, can I rule out a concussion? Anything that brings me closer to you. Only I’m not coming to The Rainbow Bridge, Heaven, not even purgatory. The 9th Circle. And why? Taking “my” own existence would be a sin. And I can’t even get that right despite all my studies. That’s what I was thinking about Wednesday… researching sin. There’s always death, primarily zombies. I said something this week about monster/demon girls… Succubi, Witches, Heather Loralie, the list goes on —torture, Hentai, and grieving fur babies. There’s punishment, sleep deprivation, no sex… Ha! Only Masturbation. There’s being broke, zero simoleons. Sigh. Wrong Answers, B, V.

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

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I didn’t know V was howling. For a few weeks, he only coughed like hacking up a lung. Then his howl when I left, vomiting and barking at a possum. Hell! All I’m saying is don’t you effing die to myself. “Virgil Sounds Off Braxton”

Thursday, October 19, 2023

Tale 110 ~Virgil Sounds Off Braxton~

991 Days Without B III, Day 432 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Would I be better off if I lied to you? Sorry B, highway, government, time-travel…

This is why I’m talking to you today. “Good morning, and in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.” Since wrestling isn’t on tonight, I could watch The Truman Show. NXT was on Tuesday, and I didn’t watch any of it either B III. Roxanne Perez, Piper Niven… And yet, I wonder why I like M Anime so much. It’s the best of both worlds, but we’ll get to that. I should keep it in my pants, but Braxton Barks. Remember when your Aunt Carolina would come by, and you’d be awfully busy with your toy? And she had to let you run all over her massive pair of… Um, anyway, you were very vocal, liking her, not liking her.

But it would be nice if you kept her in your thoughts today. Triple B, please. Probably me, too. Wednesday… well, today for me. I’m thinking about what I have to do. Highways B… Thirty-nine and counting, unfortunately. And the only time I’ve taken a trip like this is when your Aunt was getting married. She’s not anymore, but I’m still scared to death. Hell! She is my friend, and you are my son. And that was enough to give me courage in 2019. And why do I need to talk about courage, your Aunt Carolina, and car rides? Braxton, we’re talking a few miles to prove to Uncle Sam that I am, whatever you say I am. Well, not you specifically. To you, I was Daddy. To them… sigh.

What about to Virgil? He’s sitting at the door in your room, but for once, he’s quiet. You should hear him when I leave the house. I’m sure you have. Have you been scaring him? I’m sorry, Triple B, for my attempts at Halloween humor. Will I even get to see it? Do I have no faith in my driving ability? Or that of other people? Remember sitting with me, Braxton? With my luck, I’ll even end up in Hell, a ghost or a zombie, with no chance of seeing you. If I make it back, I’m the monster or whatever Virgil thinks I am, All to defend a name I hate. And I don’t call Virgil my son. Yet, ever… Virgil Sounds Off Braxton

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Tale 103 ~Virgil, B Leaves Better~

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B believed in me, and how did that turn out for him. I believed in what… God or some higher power. Again, how did that turn out for B. V’s been here 425 days, and I believe he’s on the fence. If it doesn’t collapse this Fall. Virgil, B Leaves Better.

Thursday, October 12, 2023

Tale 103 ~Virgil, B Leaves Better~

984 Days Without B III, Day 425 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? As the song goes, “I’d love to get a letter. Like to know what’s what.”

It’s not like I’m any better with it B III. I ain’t Eric Thomas. But I got up around three-ish. Tell me THEY have sleep in Heaven… At the Rainbow Bridge or wherever you exist. Existence? No! You live, Braxton. Only it’s not here anymore. But as much as you struggled, you didn’t want to leave me. If only I had your strength. Well, I haven’t cried today, Braxton. But the day is still very much young. Daddy’s thirty-nine now. Which ain’t much compared to your age, I know. But every day, I take a step closer to Doom. Gaming? Braxton, there is no time for that. There’s no time for anything but killing it. Have you seen me these days at the Day Job?

Again, I’m looking for the tears to fall. I’m surprised there haven’t been more Braxton. Sweating bullets daily. And let’s not get into other bodily fluids… Eww! That’s one thing I can say about Virgil and his having no “interest” in toys. Not like you. Yeah, if you’re not sleeping, eating, or watching me. One more reason for me to behave. I know it, B. Don’t Look Down. I’m right, Braxton. And the leaves aren’t that pretty falling. Ha. I’m leafing through pages. It’s more like scrolling, but you understand. Anyway… there’s all these books. That aren’t about grieving fur babies. Ah! Viewers like you —my lost one, B III. And still, I think about leaving this place every day. Quit with the leaving humor?

It’s Fall, we get it. But calling it funny might be stretching. Which again reminds me of what I must do today and tomorrow. Stretch out? Convince people I’m “working.” Take a long car ride. And then there’s the cash. Is everything free wherever you are B III? This world has fallen so far. B III, some government types believe that there’s capitalism in paradise. That’ll suck. Hell! I owe you so much, Braxton. And Virgil, too. Only I haven’t fallen for him yet. Then why am I looking down to ensure he stays alive and well? Braxton, I’ve fallen for worse… sleep, Simoleons, and the opposite sex. I’d leave it all. Braxton, I believe plenty about zombies and necromancy. Death… Virgil, B Leaves Better

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

At The Age of Occasional Wellness

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What’s my age again, what’s my age again, the dog and I are old men without a doubt and I wonder what his life goals were, better his than mine, because he at least has a chance I suppose? “At The Age of Occasional Wellness”

What big I’s you got?
The better to see no one’s coming
but if you expected nothing…
At any time, you can stop
looking and maybe jot
this down to one more day of succumbing
to your greatest sin, becoming
more “hopeful” in your old age and that’s a lot

Because what big zeros you see
There aren’t a lot, quality over quantity
Honestly
know your place, keep your place and be
a shoe, and that’s not a big number, but geez
it beats your age and keeps out the laughter of this comedy
Walking away from your curiosity
Zero to hero, there’s the possibility

These words, these words, these words, big and small
might as well be on other planets
or thrown away by the force of habit
Maybe not even written at all
That is why there are so many places to fall
Oops, oh my, ow, tragic
There is no need to can it
I’d say if there were anyone to call

then what’s with all the holes
cause I got enemies, got a lot of enemies
my wishes, dreams, and quite a few deities
better known as girls, when I would rather sell my soul
for any margin of control
of my mental facilities
At the age of thirty-three
It was never a life goal

Only obeying, obtaining, obsessing over, obvious occasions occasionally okay

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

Mannerisms

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I’m not like them, alive, man, human, or at least I don’t look at myself as being treated like one human to another these days, especially not today I was only a child and maybe that was worst, children are people too but what am I. “Mannerisms”

How I wish to be the tin man,
as it’s a sin man to take everything
and I mean everything, please understand,
to heart. Understand me the slings
and arrows and so I ran
because I was not him I ran to cling

onto every part of this scarecrow form.
This form might as well be me, I insist
but you insist, in fact, you warn
me, I would warn you, if I could find my lips.
What good are those lips for, if they adorn
one who will only adorn a checklist

of what not to do in your car.
Here in my car, I feel safest of all
a dummy, after all, is not my choice by far
only it would be far enough, even if I fall
for anything, fall and crash, there you are
yet are you serious, as I lie here sprawled

out as though this is unknown.
Nothing is unknown in this digital age
Apart from my age, my rage, the hard stone
iron fist, losing my marbles, stone heart, not one page
there are dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions of storybook bones
my past picking the bones of a player not yet on the stage

So why would I bother to applaud
Yet you all will applaud, daddy, mommy, man, and woman
Autumn leaves take some abroad
Still, I want to believe at home and abroad, someone knew him
Knew of him, knew him, knew me, because everyone thinks they’re God
Forgive me for not praising you God, I wasn’t much of a man for being Human

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

The Air of a Gentlemen

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Always reaching, can I keep my feet on the ground for once, someone once said, don’t try to be a great man, just be a man. “The Air of a Gentlemen” I wish I was a little bit taller if only that is all it took these days.

But wherever in the world
does he come from, the hero,
with cape ready and unfurled
because Fierros
don’t save lives
or open a lady’s… eyes.
No, he has returned

Return of the Mack heard,
along with his wish that everybody wants to go to Heaven
she observed
being the angel that beckons
him to take her to a gangsta’s paradise
crying out “I’m alive”
because nobody wants to die when pretty pearls

still, lie undiscovered and the netherworld
can wait
while this gentleman, curled
up so close to God, says “you made a mistake”.
Operating on those they would make divine.
Such a man finds
that while the world does twirl

some rocket man almost hurls
but she didn’t see the meltdown.
How he uncurls
himself from Armageddon, the Apocalypse, the world goes around
though always on alarm,
she has no place but his arms
as though this is Westworld.

A machine and not biology this girl
falls like autumn leaves
perhaps like a thousand words
that the writer has yet to believe.
Maybe like any other,
he might learn to fly as the Wright Brothers
with the air of a gentlemen and reach her

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

Popup Passengers

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Life is one hell of a trip and I think walking takes too long, I mean we’re supposed to enjoy the trip but I feel maybe I have never found a home. “Popup Passengers”, I’ve just been flying along with others waiting for something, to be welcomed?

To my fellow passengers who wish,
who pray, that ask God

will you catch this?
And before he can even nod

jump of your own accord
traveling on the hands of a clock, the days of a calendar
hoping you don’t fall forevermore

into Superman’s arms.
Entrusting that your donation

in truth, justice, the American way, in all its charms
will get you to your final destination

Which is… do you even know anymore?
Your own heart’s parameters
as if this is what you came for

an inch, a ticket, a page
telling you where to go, on a pen tip

flying from its cage
not knowing where you’ll be at the end of it.

Only escape is its own reward
or at least higher than the Challenger
Can you afford

the mental rent in the minds of men
a window seat

asking again and again
when shall we meet

my Sweet Lord.
In this life, in this can of worms
what am I moving towards

like so many others
where will my life begin

for I am no Wright brother
watching autumn leaves in the wind.

Welcome aboard
All my fellow passengers
Don’t know how or why but watch how I soar

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

Wright Height

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Clearing my head but men dream of many great things I believe, well one and all other thoughts just sort of circle around that during the day. “Wright Height”, I wanted to be a pilot once upon a time, I wished.

And who was the first man to believe?
Was it he who ran the numbers
or those who became art lovers
who painted forbidden fruit on the trees,
until it was so conceived?
Maybe the Wright brothers,
to the man that pilots the space shuttle.
that Autumn leaves

left much to be desired
The dreams of boys to men
Going where no one has ever been
How much higher,
cause no one told me about her,
making me wish I was a little bit taller…

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

Nut Up

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As Lenny Kravitz put it, I want to get away, I want to fly away, and if only I had the money, the sweet temptation, or the cojones just because it sounds better in Spanish? Nut Up, I am aware peanuts grow underground for those in the peanut gallery.

Here’s to growing up so nuts
that I believe I can fly
up, up and away like Superman
playing insane in the membrane
so I will not grieve

as autumn leaves,
flee the trees, and I ask, what
can’t you even say goodbye?
Still, I try and understand
even though it’s such a pain

that I take solace with Mary Jane
because who would want gravity
when all everybody asks is, what’s up?
The forbidden fruit, that’s a mile high
I might land,

fall, crash, will I ever be able to stand
another Pina Colada and being caught in the rain
or even the sun shining
hard enough, rich enough, am I tall enough
to talk to God in the sky.

What if he says why, why
with red eyes I planned
to dream, the impossible dream on this airplane
Well, I believe…
only the stewardess says but

sir, I’m all out of love

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

Fall Better

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Maybe there was just too much Fall stuff at work today, maybe my yard is just in a mess, and it’s no secret that God and I have had our problems, I have problems with everyday people. Fall Better, personally I wish we could just go straight to winter

And it was better, twinkle, twinkle, little star
but a man put them in reach
with a son of a preacher man to teach,
that I should not go too far.
So God did endeavor

to make just the only one
morning star, Satan was his answer,
man-made cancer.
It was better when I just called it the sun
God will you make an effort,

like asking the leaves to stay on the trees,
only didn’t we all fall down?
Every color better, green and white, yellow and red, gold and brown
Autumn leaves…
Come on God why would you ever

I mean was this another dare
for me to curse you, curse her, say something?
Made in your image a caveman grunting,
can we not be better, here and there?
Because God you gave me the letters

before the pedestal or the big mouth
My voice before my courage
These feelings only to discourage
It was better without a doubt
Tell me, God, why I met her

You know maybe, just this once, I can do better…

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