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.

Kid Rocks

What’s my age again, what’s my age again, wait that isn’t heavy metal but all people have it in them literally, or on them, and I suppose I’m only getting heavier at my age. Kid Rocks, because am I growing up, I wanted to be an astronaut, help Atlas.

Stoned, however, it’s known
as heavy metal plays on my phone
I know I must be a pain

for Atlas carrying the Earth
Perhaps a sapphire is to blame

Because all that glitters is not gold
or silver, diamonds, and I was told
It doesn’t matter what’s in a name

A stone will crush us all the same

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

 

Bard from Light

Everything that can be said and not said, release the beast if we lived in such a place but with Donald Trump and others whose to know; even the written word is not safe. Bard from Light, maybe because the crazies have white rooms hmm

And we make our swords
into seven billion cages
while our flags become the pages
so that others will never know what rage is.
Love is several slamming doors

as with our eyes wide shut
we can’t live out loud.
Fahrenheit 451 and how
do we get out
one more war is never enough

when all the good men are gone, the gods, the knights
yet we can never cleanse our souls or purge
Who wants to converge
on a graveyard, but, yes ma’am, yes sir, and her
the lion sleeps tonight

So where is the light?

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

Only Can Discover

A cure maybe, or a way to find relief, other than filling my head with numbers, how many times I checked the door, or people stay quiet, a method of forgetting and not having to worry about so much. Only Can Discover healthy.

Oh did I forget to lock the door
or should I try once more, I swore
only to turn around, before

conceivable the dog runs out of water
catching myself but what I said to somebody’s daughter
catastrophic humiliation, why I oughta

delay going in if people saw it, read it, and
decided… it doesn’t matter, I think I can, I think I can
do it, get up and go, man

oops, how many times, five, four, three,
can I ever be free of this disease?
Don’t know but count on my being O.C.D.

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

Bark Check

All it took was a dog walking alone in the street, the little doggie I so wanted to save and I don’t know where he is now, how about my own four-legged son who this moment is lying under my feet waiting. “Bark Check” how I have gone looking for love

And I never ask the stars’ advice
on what to wish for or dream up next
I simply take it to the bank

neglecting to take the time to thank
God… people… my puppy dog once or twice
who never asks and I could never expect

to try, but somehow we both collect
not a dollar, rupee or franc.
No, it’s not some sort of prize

of life or waiting in some paradise.
It’s in every moment it doesn’t need a sec
a minute, a vault or a tank’s

protection, though my little friend you never shrank
from I love you, our names both blank
as love is without a price.
So what the heck
a dog’s love is a blank check

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

Will Known

Something I’m going to regret, not today, hopefully not tomorrow, but for now as they sing fifteen percent concentrated power of Will, though I’m firing on all cylinders now. Will Known, who knows but someday maybe, and no I don’t mean never heh

How can you define Will?
Not in the words of a dead man
Have you bothered to check?
Could you possibly, listen, listen, hear, and understand
this secret I spill

What, “I’m Alive”, Will,
before the faces of a billion men
some wrong women I suspect,
to my virtues and vices, regrets and sins
I’ll scream it until

who I am and choose to be is Will
like Will Smith Will Schuester, Will Parry
do they expect
I can be like them, then it’s not so scary
until I thrill

when adversity threatens, my force of Will
more effective than an AK, hotter than a Molotov cocktail
let me direct
World War Three on Pay TV, a script to Hell
Maybe I can pay the bills

where Batman does but sign my checks Will
with my potential, my future, like any superhero
God knows I’m not perfect
I’m only human don’t you know…
No, then I have something to fulfill

Why promise anyone but Will
Free Will, Iron Will, even if I’m the one to blame
There will be some respect
People will remember the name
Yes I’m gonna make it, yes I Will

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

Grin’s Fairytale

I hate my smile and I could say it’s because I have bad teeth, fell on the stairs, hit with a baseball bat amongst other things but words can be just as damaging to be sure and my words well… Grin’s Fairytale, weren’t “Grimm’s Fairytales” horror

Because I can’t stand to “sup”
or suspend, the words blurry.
I can’t help but worry
as I latch on, again and again
to hmm, oh, I stand in awe
though there is no God

present, he need not hurry
as I have not grown up;
and since when has any man been enough?
“Oh, yes, there will be blood” Jigsaw
spilled his guts but oh when, oh when
will I say the right word to win?

It’s a setup,
when I thought she was a friend
but a stranger, and the skin
crawls, surely
I’m guilty; who am I to say Nah,
to cry, to scream, to laugh, ta-ta

Instead, I offer no sound, no fury
for judge, jury, executioner I draw
no excuses for my shame, as my jaw
knows I should shut the hell up
My every thought, word, and dream a sin
Swallow them, here’s my shit eating grin

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

Stone Cold Catch

I don’t drink to excess, and I haven’t smoked… in a few years, but I have big dreams and I don’t think I can carry them, those things are reserved for heroes, ask Lois Lane. “Stone Cold Catch”, is when you have to come down, sooner rather than later.

And how high was I
Goodbye to every star-crossed wish
kissed by the sun, big as all

falls not to the Earth
Sure were easy to take,
mistaking myself for Atlas

Madness that I have dreamed myself above
beloved superheroes
weirdo, freak, villain, pervert, so just leave me alone

Stoned simple and plain

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

Grave Vocabulary

Words hurt, words kill, on one hand, I’m not one for politics or religion, some words though do damage on a more personal level I suppose, sometimes I wish we were more like the people of Pontypool. Grave Vocabulary

And we all fall down

from the graduate to the class clown
What defines us, is the letters
which fair
no better when we put them together

to allow a king his crown
or any man to speak for God
Feel it coming in the air
tonight, every sin, how we are flawed

Not friend, not lover, or a victor, no noun
Enemy, fiancé, target, mutt
Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally, we’re all scared
But we shut up

when the new girl in town
wants us to believe
she’ll be the last beautiful girl, anywhere.
Please, please, please, it’s a disease

this vanity that somehow
people still ask why
hateful words are all we have to share
Do you think God is listening on high

until he can no longer grin and bear
because I’m already there

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

A Season’s Disgust

Rule No.1 is Cardio, yeah I have a better chance with zombies when once upon a time I was in the Navy though I hate the water mostly and my eyes got me into trouble in many ways. A Season’s Disgust, I could walk but I’ll drive, know what I can’t do

And if I were lost…

Seeing Santa and yes you scoff,
even I know the truth but for all Apollo’s worth
and a prayer to Cupid, for my heart, hurts.
See the men who grew wings and learned to blast off
Or the son of man who has being the boss
noted the dead being unearthed
So Superman and Aladdin are not coming down to Earth

Desperate Santa says the present is too hot.
I watch Apollo, blot out the sky,
so I don’t have to ask Cupid why oh why,
guessing while other men live on top.
Understanding not why Jesus doesn’t stop
start or anything as I run, I walk and crawl he tries
telling me how much it sucks to fly

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