Lesson 176 ~My Turn To Fly~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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)