At The Age of Occasional Wellness

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.

Placating My Sugar

Rage, rage, against the dying of the light they say and I snuff it out willing, well not really haven’t had such an occasion in years, in probably a decade even but the wishes keep coming. “Placating My Sugar”, I try, another day would be easier

They tell me to hurry up
from since I was tied
to a grasshopper, but they insist.

Only I have been hushed
for so long, I don’t know if inside
it’s impossible, immoral, illegal, insane, a wish

As my poor heart was crushed,
But nowhere to run to baby, nowhere to hide
and I’m stuck with this

Just a word too much;
suicide it’s a suicide
waiting to blow, waiting for Miss?

What’s her name, what’s mine, in the mush
being melted damn near fried
by how many candles, day one ish

A touch of love, of death, or a girl at the sagebrush
Yet I am preoccupied
blowing out this yearly dish
One more sugar rush

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

How to Fireproof Happy

Plenty of days I don’t think Happy even exist but why should I be happy on this particular day, shouldn’t I be happy every day or at least be allowed to look for it in my own way, even in my darkness. “How to Fireproof Happy” don’t expect any candles

A star, a wish, just the one
When I can’t even recognize my own name
So here comes the sun,
Only there is pain, there are flames
Can you make this day snappy?

How long was it until my parents were through?
They don’t even admit their mistake
Their wish didn’t come true
either, oh the heartbreak
with this day but mammy and pappy

can’t we all agree
to blame someone, anyone as the cake melts
because the last thing we need is me blowing
anything else, since I’m going to Hell
As I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death for
I know there is no other path and you know
the same. So on this day I ask for nothing more
not a candle, not a bulb, not an inferno
nothing as sappy

like the knowledge that I am still alive
This does not make me a liar
Just like five fingers don’t always mean goodbye
I didn’t start the fire
So maybe I can still see the happy

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

Wake Up and Smell the Nuts Everyone

The Catholics think they have some bad publicity but there are still plenty of them running around, not to mention several other “churches” glad I got to read about a fictional one for a change. Wake Up and Smell the Nuts Everyone, it’s pretty crazy.

“It’s only forbidden, but nothing to be ashamed of”
― D.S. Wrights, Wake

For the most part, no, I mean it was a bit slow in going but once it picked up, I was in a way rooting for the villains, not all the way to the end of course but I was somewhat impressed by the sheer villainy. Nothing to be ashamed of story wise though the editing, I’m no editor, not in the slightest, except when I’m noticing these things every few pages… seriously me being a writer, it puts the fear of God into me.

Speaking of God, I always applaud any of author with the guts to go after the religious even if they are a “cult” and we all know these sort of groups, lie somewhere and nobody can escape unscathed. You won’t find any voices of reason in this book, either everyone is crazy or lying to some degree just to maintain, whatever they hold sanity to be. Character development pretty much lies on one concept, how crazy are you and when will you cross the line.

Nobody embodiments that more than our antihero Samael, and the heroine Anna, Samantha, Anna, trying to be Rachel it gets pretty confusing for both characters and reader alike. I guess love is sort of crazy when you look at it and of course, this is one of those stories where somebody has plenty of cash on hand, and while it doesn’t justify the crazy, I’m sure plenty of women will read it. Guys too if they have ever had such and such a dark urge and I will not delve into that rabbit hole, here.

So if you’re ready for crazy and a whole lot of dominant males though I was surprised by mother Rachel which shows women can be just as evil then this is a decent read, I won’t say good, for plenty of reasons but again we will get into that in a bit first the rundown.

Crazy mom, decent grandparents, indoctrination into a cult, predators, molesters, oldest crimes in the oldest traditions, girl falls in love with a boy/man-child and then escapes without him, not her choice. Retaken by the cult, boy/man-child has been warped and still crying out for daddy’s acceptance is going to train the girl and if you’re into this genre you can sort of see where this is going, not rocket science.

Now a part of me actually wants to say I sort of agree with Samael because I know how churches/cults can be that’s why you start with children but the ending in a way negates all that. Him being convinced that Anna betrayed him but he was already grown if he could break through the conditioning long enough to help her escape how could he be so sure it was all her fault. He truly got me in the end though, you don’t see many stories that don’t end with a happily ever after scenario, a change of pace indeed.

In all fairness, with Anna’s background, anyone would be messed up too and the captivity doesn’t help with that so her staying the same throughout is par for the course. I do think her character was somewhat beyond belief but again maybe it was her upbringing that kept her from screaming bloody murder for the most part. The scene between her and Samael was explosive when they finally got her virginity out of the way, though the teasing was awesome as well, to an extent, it grew tedious after a bit but the stories of Samael’s past with Rachel were wow with a bit of sick to go with it.

I think the ending could have been something more if the other characters were flushed out, don’t get me wrong we get back stories to most of them but again beyond belief when Anna can just present an idea and okay it’s been years nobody thought to do this? The Church of the Second Reckoning and everything maybe the author could have flushed Joshua out more, and explained how he kept power, though I have seen infighting in most churches.

In all I give “Wake” three stars, it was dark, it was creepy, not the typical ending and pretty twisted indeed there was plenty to like and if the author would just get some new editing and crank up the sex but maybe that’s just me being a guy. The editing just pulls you out of the story, you’re falling right into and next thing you know you’re ripped out.

I suppose my favorite part is when Anna is alone with the Samael’s other two brothers, I guess I should also mention spoilers but come on, everyone knows when it’s coming. Personally, I could have used a bit more graphical language but just the fact that the hero doesn’t come in and save the day just in the nick of time. Also the ending, there are few books especially a standalone that leave characters still screwed up and just saying, okay this is life so deal with it as so.

Other than the editing, I think Anna’s character, like mother, like daughter, came off a bit too cunning with her manipulations, in a place where people are killing each other left and right, nobody had an inkling to I don’t know get to Joshua? The teasing got a bit annoying after awhile, I’m never sure with erotica but some are a straight sexual smorgasbord and others are, maybe, still waiting, and okay. Also while Sam’s dad was lying to him, why was everybody lying to Anna, okay she’s a kid but the fact that they lied while soothing themselves did nothing for Anna, the characters could be pretty dense if they weren’t psychotic or just plain mad; genius and insanity.

This isn’t something I would have sought out, probably because of the religious jargon but it hits the right note between what we know in the news and completely unbelievable. Three stars, pay the money for the editing I know I will, now if you’ll excuse me I might actually need a nap after this, exciting and my brain hurts.

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.

Rut On Earth

Every day is exactly the same as the song goes but that isn’t always a bad thing, especially when you’re living with anxiety, you know just how much energy you’re going to need, you can put one foot in front of the other “Rut On Earth”

The sun can only dig so far
while the other stars play big wigs
Having so many promises to renege
upon they say what they are,
job creators, they are those kings, czars
giving me this full-time gig
asking me why I never studied trig.
How bizarre

that it doesn’t hurt
I suppose Atlas is used to the abuse
Walking, running, these combat boots
Don’t run in the grass, or play in the dirt
and if you see a pretty girl in a skirt
pretend I was one of those deaf-mutes
though the point is probably moot
Nowadays it’s a concert,

left, right, repeat, but what
if there was a way not to be a slave
to the rhythm to live brave,
nut up or shut up
Only the ground has become a slut
for punishment and how depraved
is it for me to dig my own grave
one day and a time, a rut?

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

My Tea, Mighty, Will

I suppose coffee drinkers might feel something like this to a degree, know plenty of people that don’t think at all until they have a cup but as for myself, I’m learning to enjoy Tea Time, remind me not to watch Cathouse on HBO “My Tea, Mighty, Will”

My tea, mine and not yours
iced and sweet maybe
going in mugs all fancy, see
how I had this craving, and you’re just one more
today or tomorrow, the day after
Yearning to be more than a chapter

My, my, the stories, driven by testosterone’s
imagination, and a lifetime of biology
God’s prayers, wishes, a bit of astrology
have men wishing they were grown
to be whatever this world needs.
You believe

my cross, my sacrifice, no not a lowercase t
Is all about… regret, blame, insane, shame
Going to have me singing “You’re so vain”
Haven’t you heard I’m completely
totally… and wow this good
You want some, you should

While it’s still hot, basking in the sunshine
it’s the best part of waking up
learning not to think of a… I said what, what?
Lord give me my tea time

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

One’s Cent Able Pants

What do you get when you cross, the “owner of a lonely heart”, a sagebrush ranch temptress, and the movie “They Live” and should I also mention “Fiddler On the Roof” perhaps? One’s Cent Able Pants, well it beats the pants Negan was talking about

Wearing out my poor heart
only to let it break
Making it restart
and to be some woman’s mistake
No, yes, maybe, which is

going to be, every word
I would ever care to utter
Really there’s a lot of pretty girls,
ladies somewhere or another
Snitches

believe it or not these eyes of mine
always saying baby, baby oh, “babe”
behave cause the gods are crazy, and the stars are blind
everyday
So it seems I’ll be needing stitches

cause some chicks drive a man crazy
However, did I figure that out?
If only I could be Jay Z,
could I be rich, out and about?
Kardashian style riches

Dare I dream “If I Were a Rich Man”
All to get lucky, quickie, some
Maybe it wouldn’t matter who I am
even if it were one million, one thousand, one hundred, but one’s
sensible pants and a Dame’s games can be a real bit… hehe wallets in my britches

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

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.