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.

 

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.