Fall Better

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.

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.

Vial Rage

Is it always fair to rage, I see fire and yet the heat it gives off threatens to burn me from the inside and whatever could douse it, sweat, blood, tears, ink, cannot extinguish such feelings. “Vial Rage”, I think I shall not rage

And I would call it a plague
how this fever infects
me, I sweat

summoning up the blood
which can never assuage
the disgust, the dirt, my name is mud.

Better though, tears for fears,
than this need to purge, to clear.
I lock the monster in its cage

the white walls of the page.
A mad world of ink,
kink, mystique, doublethink

Don’t rage, rage

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

Silence Rocks

My heart is stone, unfortunately, they use it to make pencil lead, does that mean it’s getting smaller, the words are definitely running out I suppose. Silence Rocks, it was the usual state of things but then I wanted to talk more and well *sigh*

With so many footsteps, what was my crime
Not my hands but opportunity who knocks
What did I say, what was it this time?

Was it friend or foe, no joke of mine
that took my tongue and made me Avox
With so many footsteps, what was my crime

It was a breath of air, that crossed your line
running my mouth has made you fly; a bomb I can’t stop
What did I say, what was it this time?

My own death sentence, so let me sign
Giving Atlas a breather, the world weighs a lot
with so many footsteps what was my crime

Wouldn’t crawl, walk, run, how to reach cloud nine
Here I stand and here I stay locked
What did I say, what was it this time?

For everything, there is a season and for this one, I will pine
Silently as they all kick rocks
With so many footsteps, what was my crime
What did I say, what was it this time?

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

ROAR Excuses

“Let no man forget how menacing we are, we are lions!” Troy – and people now hunt them for sport, taking away that roar and not just what was once thought the fiercest of the beast. “ROAR Excuses”, what are my reasons to not speak

He roared and lost his jungle
reminding me, what’s mine no more
So I grunt and I grumble

They oinked and mooed
but this is what I came for
How was it all I knew

as it rustled and was cut down
Am I not moved to my core
And I wore a frown

only for her to speak without a clue,
really… no, my smile found its way to the floor
“Skeevy, inappropriate, stupid, that’s you”

Then my cries became mumbles
My eyes they did tumble
Maybe I just needed food
After, my tongue shall not be moved
No one wanted me around,
unless I pretended to be a clown
a mine not enjoying the view
Yet there was nothing I could do
with the voice, I had before
as the lion can no longer teach me how to ROAR

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

How God Shall I Evolve

Talking to myself, somebody I can’t stand, other people, my anxiety, I think that all of us needed to hear this, to be honest, but can I actually say it though? “How God Shall I Evolve”, no wonder he never speaks to us.

EXPLAIN while the earth revolves
like an engine on its last miles
or a man treating his car like a child
with his words in a pinch
But mine will no longer be
as they flow like the sea
So I will stand tall

LEARNING so that I may one day solve
of you and I while
the question remains what makes you smile
if only it is me after all
Perhaps the words are cheese
yet this mouse shall remain free
I shall not flinch

VACANT in my fear, no I will not be absolved
listen to not a beg or plea
I’m fresh out of apologies
Conclusion, done, the end, lynched
from my vocabulary file
maybe only to be exiled
leaving me to maul

LOST words that shall now be involved
without a fear of trial
be they vulgar or vile
Let me run, walk, or crawl
and not take a knee
Your words will no longer be me
Shall I no longer be a grinch?

VALUE my existence I have hereby resolved
My head no longer buried in the tile,
the sand, the muck, my own bile
Boyz II Men, “I Will Get There” I’ll get through this
Such words will be free
Hello, Goodbye, Thank You, Yes, No, not maybe
No longer a caveman, I see the writing on the wall

ENUNCIATE damn you, with anxiety and gall
Make them earn your smile and do not while
Your own life they speak, they laugh, they sneer and revile
To be given one inch
Defend it, with all you are and hope to be, after BC
For I am a man, not a boy, nor a monster, a pest or a flea
Do you hear me Ms. Seasons” all of you, I can, I Will, Evolve

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

Too Far To Cave

Now, why is it I live in the past because cavemen med never had to worry about speaking and once that began, well sticks and stones may break my bones but words, the things words will do. “Too Far to Cave”, yeah I don’t think we can ever return.

And have I left the cave
not with this echo
a friend would say hello
but for me to say “hey”
Too Far

Like what Desdemona didn’t say to Othello
so no one was saved
Only here I remain a slave
because what I would say would go
Too Far

heard but not forgave
Perhaps I will never know
Tell me, say what I need to say
As you tell me to shut up and so
I will return to that cave which is now too far

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

 

A Word On the Monster

Are you scared, words fall so much easier, and all monsters have their weapons, so why did I choose a pen, okay a keyboard but people have fallen because of words. “A Word On the Monster”, I’m still waiting to see him for myself but he’s coming.

So I can be the monster
because that’s what words are for
If only my head to clear
and so I fear
not a moment, a law, a farmer’s daughter

that sees me as the monster
Hockey mask, glove, or engineer
No, I will write out my fear
leaving you lying there forevermore
Close your eyes and wander

For I no longer choose to be a mere
open door
friends with the monster
that’s under my bed, an imposter
in my own life because of fear

Yes, if I can’t find a way, my dear
Whatever it takes, it would be my honor
to make my way like any monster
Life shall no longer be a chore
or anything else to fear

Let the bodies hit the floor
as the boy you leer, you jeer, you sneer, dies right here
Appears it’s time for a slaughter
We will all forget the fear
Alive again, how I will become the monster

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

New World Tours

A Whole New World meets Things You See In A Graveyard, I suppose someday the two will mesh at the rate things are going. New World Tours… I am no prophet or real estate agent but as the song goes come and take a walk with me.

As in welcome to the desert of the unclear
No wonder I can’t deal
A shattered king, nowhere to start
Perhaps a wherefore art
Some person, some place, something
Of course leading to nothing
Yet I walk and you follow
Will it be better tomorrow?

The light brings its doom
Here I thought you knew
Such wicked by and by
You know the fire inside
Which thus consumed the world
And the tale of the pretty girl
Now I plead the fifth
Let’s get on with it

But what’s left to be done
From a walk to a run
Imagine the moment of extinction
Still I look for distinction
For here I am alive
Wish I could say I tried
Pushing buttons and turning tables
Courageous failure or cowardly able

Because if you lived here
Would that be weird?
You’d be home by now
How would you live… how?
You’re not one of us
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Converted and born again
To die the first time friend

Does that mean I’m not dead at all
Rock bottom… a further fall
Or it could be a climb
This grave is not mine
Though I see the graveyard
Our world’s been torn apart
Are you still unsure?
I will give you a tour

Copyright © 2012, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Convince The Reaper

People often talk to God and even he’s not there or he ain’t listening and these past few days I have heard plenty of people asking other people why. Convince The Reaper… can anyone really know, why do they try; humanity

For what is death, if not a Contract
Between what we consider destiny
And perhaps the one simple fact
That you and everyone you meet
In the simplest terms… will die
Yes I know even me
Yet you question and want to know why
We will all have the big sleep

As if you have some Covenant with God
Or whatever you call that higher power
Seeing the lives now robbed
Wondering of that final hour
Alas we can never see
Until it comes for us all
Consider it too soon maybe
But I ask, who you gonna call

How do we manage that Conversation?
Who now speaks for the dead?
Listen to the voice of the nation
Do you know what I said
Nothing, yes for there is nothing
There are the dead, the head, and oh yes the great divine
While there are those who look for something
Whatever will they find… this time?

With all they’re Collaboration
When has life been fair?
People talk about what they call salvation
So they seek life elsewhere
Praying for those that have been lost
Or albeit much too soon
Knowledge I’m afraid is a heavy cost
Preferring not to think of doom

Though it is always Coming
Is there anything you can do?
Won’t tell you to stop running
I suppose I know my truth
At the end… for those still Alive
Asking after him or her
Feel free to ask why and to cry
No not one life can Convince the Reaper

Copyright © 2012, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.