A Glass of Will

Choking on my own spit, on my own tears… well let’s not go that far but I still feel pretty bad about the things I couldn’t say yesterday and the things I know today but of course there is no one to tell. A Glass of Will, courage is within.

When I was a child my mom called me a hard head
See I don’t want to lie
or didn’t you know I bleed red
No, because I’m not like you, so you deny
this body will someday die
while you’ll still be talking out your ass
If I could speak to you, I’d say, I’d try
My Jaw’s not made of glass

As my eyes have said worse things instead,
could I be ever so wise
to keep secret, the things I do in bed
because I don’t look like those other guys
Better to be the friend, not gay, but nice and shy
Ask forgiveness than permission, yet I was crass
Now ask me why?
My Jaw’s not made of glass

Though my words may be brittle and led
by desire, greed, my story no Pulitzer prize
more the lyrics of “Right Said Fred”,
I’m too sexy to chastise,
too sexy for… shoo flies
don’t bother me, when “Suddenly”, “At Last”
I cry
My Jaw’s not made of glass

“Eyes Wide Shut” mouth open wide
Apologies have long passed
stuttering My, My, My
My Jaw’s not made of glass

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

Mind The Soylent

Heavy the head that wears… well, I have no crown to speak of as of yet but my mind is more than full of things that I can’t let out, truths that no one can feast upon and as if those ideas are eating themselves. Mind The Soylent indeed

Always keep a stiff upper lip
or a smile to zip
the answers to all the things you said,
all the things you said as if I ship

this crown that I pursue
like theses, white walls grew
to encompass the world and universe too
but the pillows on my bed

say off with my head
in league with the red queen
making me wish Soylent Green
was people, to stop a good old fashioned killing machine

which I had in mind

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

The Good Sip Anger

If anything I’m angry that I had to censor this or that I felt I had to censor this, I think I need a drink, but of course, I have never been a big drinker anyway. The Good Sip Anger, to put out this fire or to make it manageable.

Smoke coming out of my ears
A dragon’s tongue goes unheard

Never freed, as a mind is a terrible thing to waste
Just like a really good beer or tea
Bought by, for, about some beautiful stranger

The best you’ll never have
Happiness, joy, rapture, bliss, but who always wins the race
Tears for fears, a deal if you please
But I’ll go home to anger

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

Consider It A Wind

There are so many storms in life and I take my shelter upon the page but yet some storms are stronger than others and it helps to remind myself to be grateful for some things. Consider It A Wind, words can be so much stronger than any hurricane.

When it’s not rumor or speculation a blend
of lies, cult fiction, the insane
that happens to be the norm.

Or that chill that leaves you deformed
and shows how your backbone has thinned
but you are not lame.

In fact, you eat and claim
plenty, while the food is warm
as you tell a few or your best friend

You can’t wait till your name ascends
into the spotlight, pages heights, and some librarian to blame
because your book transformed

a woman into literature, from perfect to misinformed
to lost and torn, a dream of sin
only every day is exactly the same

Even if your name is mud, you’re scared or in pain
ashamed, name on a blog, but not on a news crawl, saying the storm,
hurricane, death toll, no I’m back again

“Considering It A Wind”, and it will be a win
Really, when I forget your so vain
your every loving name; for a new obsession, I just printed the forms.

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

Yes My Ear

You never see the monster until there’s time to make the trip to that upper room but then again I’m probably going to Hell as often as I keep my head down. Yes My Ear, someone told me to play it by ear because to see what’s coming

I’m “Alive”!
Black or white, in living color, “Live!”
or so the heart appears
in the eyes, on the touch, in the beat of another
Always undercover
Ashamed, it remains unclear

if I am running or hiding
Do I have what it takes to keep surviving
Yes, my feet persevere
Only I can’t look down, I won’t look back
Because I don’t know if I could handle that
Whenever people come near

Am I a sheep
a lion, who’s roar I must keep
like any secret near and dear
Better to be a live chicken than a dead duck
Wanting to scream… what today I’m out of luck
as the fear

makes me into a Mime
I look at my watch thinking it’s time
To have a voice, like Shaka Zulu and his spear
So I have but a pen
with but to write every virtue and every sin
words that won’t disappear

Though if I were to write the future
there would be fewer
bombs, “Hurricanes”, Kamikazes here
And of Rocket 69?
Well I’m not blind
Suppose I should cheer

the fact I have not seen Elysium
entered Heaven at a premium
Oh to be like Katniss and volunteer
My tribute to courage, to live brave and best
Just say yes
Play it by ear

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

 

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.