Tag: Fly

Tale 253 ~Virgil Flies Row B~

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I haven’t been on a plane in forever. There was that brief stint in the Navy. Uh, I can’t swim. So, no flying, no swimming, just one foot in front of the other while carrying B, who I sent to Heaven. And V, I’m trying to keep out. Virgil Flies Row B.

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Tale 253 ~Virgil Flies Row B~

To Will:
It’s the Man In The Mirror… And today’s “Termination” is brought to you by the song “Leaving On A Jet Plane.” Two things…

One: yes, you believe that your son still sends you songs from wherever. B III is an angel. Two, can you stop watching Hulu’s The Mill? But yes, this feels like a “termination.” Tomorrow, the Day Job may impose another rule, making you want to join Braxton. But then again, whenever you and I talk, well… Tearing yourself down? It’s habitual. It’s nearly a science.

Take, for example, your flying. Flying means putting one foot before the other and not falling flat on your face. And hey! You didn’t fall that far yesterday, hitting your head. Sorry about that. It hurts being “productive.” Anyway, flying to you is your voice reaching Heaven. Not for Braxton… how about how fast you fly from Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING Backyard Dungeon 6 by Logan Jacobs
    Completed
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
    Failed
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
    Failed
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 001, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 004 No Fap)
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

It looks like you remembered this week. I still failed, but these things exist indefinitely. Unlike the dudes, you call your best friends. Braxton and Virgil. Well, B anyway, hmm?

But let’s speak of dreams. You only remember a little because you woke up early carrying Virgil to his training pad. I’ve had to keep my pants on for three days. Seeing to Virgil’s health.

Okay, you remember the part of your dream: You were with Rachel Zegler/Lucy Gray Baird, who wore a rose dress. It was something akin to Katie O’Shaughnessy’s outfits. Ha!
So you were holding her in your arms, and she said she was scared. And did you think your Ma invited her to… Well, um? Please keep trying, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I WILL BE VIEWING The Healing Journey of Pet Loss
  2. I WILL BE VETTING Pictures, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I WILL BE VENDING Gulp: Poetry Book
  4. I WILL BE VOWING To Keep Pants On (Day 004, No Fap). Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL BE VALUING My Flesh Getting A Tattoo Of My Son Little B III
  6. I WILL BE VALIANT Being The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Fortunately, your dream didn’t take things that far. You’re still not going to Heaven. But if you continue to look after Virgil Vivi as you have… Only you ask yourself this question once again. Sigh

Should Virgil go and see the veterinarian? You have a lot of time these days. But that also means a lot less money. And you still want to be a greedy so-and-so with your tax refund. I know. With Braxton, you didn’t care about money. And he still got sent straight to the pearly gates.

Now, you want to make sure your money stays put. Only you won’t make the pages of your writing fly. And hurtful words from the critic and yourself… Fly, you fool! Virgil Flies Row B

1134 Days Without B III, Day 575 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 035 ~You B Leap It~

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Might as well jump as the song goes. I do that a lot for and at the Day Job. I would jump to plenty when B III was still around. Now I barely crawl out of bed, and I’m “lucky” if I don’t go tripping down the stairs. Will I learn to fly? You B Leap It

Thursday, August 5, 2021

Chronicle 035 ~You B Leap It~

186 Days Without B III

Just Me Baby B,
Did you have a good day? Believe it or not, Wednesday wasn’t half bad. Of course, I got a half-day somehow.

I’m sorry about my, let’s say, baby language or garbled, terrible “puns.” I wish I could tell you about anything, period B III. What is it with Olds that makes us switch how we speak in an instant? So I recall when you weren’t much taller than my shoe. Yet I jumped, I leaped B. Even when you weren’t my son? I didn’t mean to go all “Billie Jean” there, but you know what I mean. When my sister was busy doling out orders because she had so much to do. It went from “let me sleep” to carrying you around. My Olds wanted to show their home, and I didn’t have your leash, and people wanted to see the house. You jump, I jump.

Braxton, you jumped so high, you made it all the way to Heaven, the Rainbow Bridge, wherever. I was at the Day Job today, again Wednesday, but always I feel like I’ll be scared to death. I’m getting old in the world myself and wouldn’t mind dying on the fly. However, I know you don’t like me talking like that. How do THEY say if your friends jumped off a bridge… I don’t know if I’d follow Carolina Bound or M Anime but for you. There’s a reason I keep you above the weapons and by the closet. WWBD, always. Thursday, what would Braxton do? Now that’s something I should have jumped at, sooner, like Monday of YOUR last week. How about after your appointment?

I didn’t jump to the worse conclusion until the vet was calling me that Friday. I didn’t leap from my seat. I was nowhere near high enough to punch God in the face before asking him to save you. I wasn’t rich enough; I didn’t leap into action. There’s nothing. Only the “Space In Between Us.” B III I wanted to be an astronaut when I was young. When I got older, I wanted to be a fighter pilot. Yesterday I talked about all I wanted. Funny that I can tell you more about the circles of Hell than anything in Heaven, my B III. You weren’t here when I finished Jacob’s series. Do you think I’ll fly to you someday? You B Leap It

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Lesson 176 ~My Turn To Fly~

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Christmas Eve and I suppose Santa is out doing his thing… what I don’t believe in Santa, how can I when I don’t hold out any hope for myself, my faith is all shot to hell when every day is the same but tonight… My Turn To Fly

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Lesson 176 ~My Turn To Fly~

To Will:
No Fear but it wasn’t worth, the events of this week and so whatever can I give to you as a gift, I already told one friend I’m sort of horrible and this whole gift-giving thing, especially this year. Unfortunately, that cross is yours to bear, so be ready this week, it’s your turn to fly, and hopefully, you won’t fall flat on your face as I did.

I mean you’re not Santa, you don’t have the luxury of operating from the shadows or maybe this week sure, but there is still work to put in. You won’t have Christmas magic to fall back on, you’ll have actually to give a shit, and that can be freaking exhausting, caring about others, friends, Facebook, even the assholes. Speaking of which I hope you won’t be as sick, hell Santa Claus has 364 days to be ill can you imagine if he were queasy tonight?

Don’t they say that some heroes don’t wear capes but what exactly makes Santa a hero, the fact that he gives all he has how about the truth that of his immortality, invincibility, or both? Maybe the ability for even one night to rule the world, it could be the ability that he has in a way usurped a god, indeed several different deities. Most men think they’re God; this one just happens to be right though it’s death to acknowledge that sort of thing isn’t it, as the song goes, no one man should have all that power right.

So am I jealous of Santa… you’re damn right I am, and so I won’t tell you to be him, though you must keep in mind, what you give, your writing, and the faith you have if not in God and not in yourself in what? Maybe that should be your goal this week; you didn’t believe that 5-hour Energy would allow you to forgo a nap and yet here we are, baby steps but there isn’t time even now.

Honestly, you should be flying by now, if not for you, for others, okay see that’s too far, have faith that you will survive tomorrow, that you won’t get fired, that you can be a better man. Santa is the man, and he only works one night out of the year, how’s that for social anxiety, My Turn To Fly.

I Will Have No Fear

Bravely Lit

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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.

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.

Stilts Not Included

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I don’t think that word means what you think it means “stilts” but anyway the way some women are elevated, the way some men elevate themselves to be worthy sadly. Stilts Not Included… cause’s she so high above me, they all are, to be honest

When all that need be built
was not the wheel reinvented,
but gravity itself circumvented
something so unprecedented
like teaching a man to fly
Though once it was the biggest castle
a mountain’s hassle
there be dragons here, a battle
hands to hilts

Troy or Greece, or some ilk
we fought, we made the sun divine
Jesus enshrined, we signed
papers, take pills for more time
and don’t we all know why
Bone Thugs, that’s why I stay high
Can’t look her in the eye
So I wish on every star in the sky
just so the world can tilt

the trees wilt
autumn leaves
fall and I finally believe
what so many men strived to achieve?
Jokes on us *sigh*
That we have climbed and grown enough
knowing we must
fall, land, or ask what’s up
To the pretty girl, no escaping our guilt

Being Men

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

Weatherman Whether

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Just ask your weatherman, that was a dream once upon a time and so was being a pilot during my days in the Navy, but my eyes didn’t have the right stuff, oh I didn’t mention being an astronaut either. “Weatherman Whether”, some men have taller dreams

Whether man was meant to predict
the weather, he tries,
why he looks to the skies
becoming blind to it
As with God himself, he could confer
and know in a phone call
where he takes her, he takes her

or such is the nature of man, to rule,
so some men become wise,
still, others will buy the lie,
a one-way ticket is that of a fool.
Only he becomes so sure
that he would run, walk, or crawl
he goes, he takes her, he takes her

supposing he was like Superman himself
for he succeeds, he flies
like a leaf on the wind, surprise
watch how he soars, and there is nowhere else
He makes her a jet setter
Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall
while he takes her, he takes her

far, farther, so amazingly far
autumn leaves, return, apologize
how, when it must be a mile high
An unreachable star,
dream deferred
Yet I will stand tall
knowing he takes her, he takes her

Above It All

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

High Off Confession

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Gripes are supposed to go up, not down, so why do people get low, why do people get high, strangely enough, I was neither writing this, angels aren’t real right but people have airplanes. High Off Confession, would I really need a priest for this one

What goes good with confession?

Perhaps a side of God?
If my words could reach so high…
But would I rather keep my secrets,
to make my regrets the sod
freshened

with so many tear stained letters
that I ask, can you stop the rain
cause I’m leaving on a jet plane?
Only you’re the jet setter
A new profession;

and with my warmest regards
or sincerely
However, may I say it clearly?
Louder as my heart breaks apart
the question

can you, will you, will she?
No erase
backspace
when she pressed delete
That’s my prerogative but her discretion

Not the wind, the speed, the sky’s color or hue
even the air to breathe
someone get me a priest
for if I am to drown on a word or two
this concession

To live loud, slamming doors,
fist, the beating of my heart
Maybe a confession is not so smart
selfless, brave, honest or kind, anymore,
better my impression

of the sound of silence
Regain the spirit of the caveman
wondering not how any man
learned to fly, speak, or become giants
Yes, my regression

Because with my confession
would come another transgression

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

What a Lovely Grip

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Get a grip, I don’t love her yet but what else do I hang onto, I can catch her eye for a second, maybe a smile, she’s even touched me for a moment but while hope springs eternal it was not meant for anyone forever. “What a Lovely Grip”

See Me Here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-siZzbV1RGw

So we let go of Heaven
to learn how to fly
But we never look down

And I don’t know how
Is that a reason to lie
“To the stars” is that where we’re headed?

If I had just another second
Would you ask me why?
You are here; you’re mine, and now

I’m holding you, you’re holding me
How I have dreamed of this,
as zippers and buttons fall away;
what do I hold onto?
It’s you that I’m touching

Scratches all down my back… you’re blushing
Love me like you do
tonight, tomorrow, where were you yesterday
You answer with a kiss
yet in the morning we see

Clothing, bed sheets, did we rip these?
It looks as though Heaven won’t be missed
The feathers, the colors, the light, still falling anyway
Along with three little words… “I love you”
If I had to say something

Get a grip

Falling for you, falling for it

I want to hold your hand… but “those words” might slip

Copyright © 2015 Second Circle Creations, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Inspired By: Victoria… Real Doll, Kirsten Dunst “Dream of Me” Get Over It (2001), Buckcherry “Crazy Bitch”, Ellie Goulding “Love Me Like You Do” Fifty Shades of Grey Soundtrack, A Great Big World Ft. Christina Aguilera “Say Something”, and T. V. Carpio “I Want To Hold Your Hand” (The Beatles Cover)