Rowing Or…

Am I really going forward, where am I going, and really wherever I’m headed do I truly want to be there at all. Rowing Or…; I’m no longer drowning but I suppose I was less loss when I was still in the water, for down seems so much better than around.

Rowing
Ass backwards
It’s a curse
Not knowing
Yet I’m going
Yes Ma’am, yes Sirs
Why… I’m not sure
I’m thinking of forgoing

Oars
To sink or swim
I don’t know where to begin
But no more
Dreams weighing me down
Slowly let me drown

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Mellow Sunshine

Why bother being the only one, why bother trying to reach the tip top, I think this was during a moment that decent and adequate, being fine actually trumped trying to be happy, or I was really into “Paranoia Agent”. Mellow Sunshine…

Why so negative
Looked at as a sin

Twelve wanting to be twelve
The difference between Heaven and Hell
Is PM to AM
It’s not fair
Middle to the start of the new
Which do you choose?
Morning is declined
For the mellow sunshine

God’s happy cry
For the Devil beating his wife
How I want to be happy
But the Devil can’t have me
Tears during the day
You I must obey
Not alright or fine
In the mellow sunshine

A world with more birthdays
You can take mine away
All twenty-seven
Just want to get to Heaven
Or the second-circle of Hell
Can’t you tell?
I don’t deny
With the mellow sunshine

Life begins
When
Love, lust, and sin
Maybe when life ends
From cell, to cell, to Hell
Oh well
Life’s a bitch and then you die
Not on a beach but mellow sunshine

And so many stars can’t be the one
Sun
My daddy taught me
Another somebody
Under a black sky
Why can’t I die?
Still alive
This mellow sunshine

Negativity I like
Because the mellow sunshine
Isn’t as bright
As you would like

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Some People, NOT Me

Do I still question how they see me; to be honest they barely do anymore except the occasional text to see that I’m still above ground, still they’re dirty little secret, even from myself nowadays. “Some People, NOT Me”, I’m my own worse critic.

Some people… more than one
Laugh and fear and hate… me
For fun?
My crime is making a “we”
When I’m they’re son
Not the whole world, see

Just some people… not just a few
Over twenty-seven years
Make it their mission for me to lose
The cause of all my tears
Should have been born blue
Maybe I wouldn’t get the sneers

Of some people… more than a dozen
Flesh and blood, a “family”
Mommy, Daddy, Sister, Cousin
Don’t make me happy
Brothers, sisters, all the others
Skin like theirs… no one like me

Because of some people… not most
Look at me, like a diseased rat
Make me doubt, so I don’t know
And tear me down with their attacks
Hate my birth and make me want to go
Not Muslims, Republicans, I’m talking at

But some people… and not the whole damn world
Those from royalty, to slavery, to today, and me
Ashamed and filled with hate for sure
And why shouldn’t I be
Say I’m worthless and I’m no good
The man in the mirror, that I see

Some people won’t understand
They and I are enemies
Dare I say, “I AM A MAN”?
Who is it that cannot see?
My character they cannot stand
And who am I supposed to be
“You people” won’t understand
Some People, NOT Me

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

 

Retaining Reinvention

Since I have the tendency to talk to myself *ahem* “I didn’t want you to remember I want you to forget” as if I could be as bad as Kruger though I try. Retaining Reinvention… as many times as I have tried to be someone else, I don’t know who I am anymore.

Retaining
Memories of boos
And shoos
Yet I’m staying
For want of saying
The truth
Of course, you knew
No need explaining

Like I could mention
Who I am
Don’t understand
My reinvention
If only I could see
Who I want to be

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

ACROSS From Calvary

I’m an atheist… as far as I’m concerned the so called greatest story ever told is just a crap movie like a really good story The Golden Compass. ACROSS From Calvary as if anyone cares about Jesus, he may not be the way but neither is the crap on TV.

Across from Calvary
People watch and moan
Oh No
Bieber just might be…
The next dancer to see…
X factor was known
An idol unknown
As Jesus maybe

Second in the coming
Zombie Apocalypse
Proof I insist
But there is nothing
Heavy is the cross
Following the last episode of LOST

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Hear Me Out

Once upon a time I made a mom pretty “darn” angry, and it wasn’t my mom for once and I can’t say that this poem helped any. Hear Me Out, well to be fair I don’t even talk to my own mother or many people in my everyday life and still, I try to explain.

Hear me here
I wish you were dear
My girlfriend, my lover, or even a friend
So where do I begin
This isn’t the place
Or is this a waste?

Hear me there
Do you care?
What I have to say
I listen every day
… Okay, okay I’ll shut up
You’ve had enough

Hear me now
Better yet how
Freaking blocked me
You’re not listening
Or buying
Am I lying?

Hear me in
Is that a sin?
These screams
My dreams
Aren’t real
But you feel

What I am
Is not a good man?
Which I never cop to
But a fool
For freedom
So read on
Or don’t
You probably won’t

Hear me out
What I’m about
Sex and drugs
Death and blood
But to clock
And knock
Let me explain
Know my name
Am I too loud?
Just hear me out

Lesson 018 ~Blueprint, 140 Characters or Less~

One of my friends often talks about my raw emotion, my raw passion, maybe I’m just trying to scrape myself raw of everything and somehow keep myself. Blueprint, 140 Characters or Less or how I have been changing the world

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Lesson 018 ~Blueprint, 140 Characters or Less~

Hey there Lady Luna,
Maybe it was that moment when I wrote a word down and didn’t have any idea what it meant and my aunt said “that’s your name”, maybe it was when I wrote that story about turkeys taking over the planet, how about the story that is somewhat dusty on the shelf. I’m my own worst critic Luna, we both know this, there is not a moment that goes by that I believe I can make it, so why do I do it hmm, why do I write anything, my friend?

“You want me to beg? Okay, I’ll beg. This is the only thing I know I am good at! Don’t take that away from me!” Best of the Best (1989)

Three bloggers liked “Some Things Can’t Be Erased”, do you know how I felt when I found out people liked my book reviews because they don’t like anything else of mine, okay about nine liked “Mime No More”. Amazon let the review on without a second thought, Goodreads, WordPress, Facebook, nobody stopped me, and I really thought, why would they you know, did I do anything wrong? How often that thought pops into my head, did I do anything wrong, am I defective, am I a mistake, you know about “the day” the one we don’t talk about because it’s the biggest regret of my entire life and it’s not even my fault at all.

“The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me.”
― from Ayn Rand

A friend asked me about why I write book reviews and personally it’s not my favorite thing in the world but okay one, a few authors have come to me asking for reviews and while I don’t think for a second that I’m special, again I want to write myself so I can understand helping them. Next, the books that no one asked for I suppose, keep me busy, I like talking about books and about my feelings towards them, seriously if someone just wants facts or hands no emotions why bother? Lastly, as I said, of anything I write nowadays I know my reviews are read, maybe even liked to a certain extent and I like that feeling of knowing that I’m a part of the universe, for one time in my life Luna I’m not invisible, I matter.

So why do I feel this way today, I wear my heart on my sleeve, and today at work, the managers asked am I happy and I said no comment, why, because I would never stop screaming. I need to learn how to expect and to accept criticism because it’s going to come; Lady Lu if I have anything to say about it, I have to believe it will come and as Michael Jackson put it, I’m starting with the man in the mirror… okay well, maybe not me first.

“You need structure. Yeah? You need discipline.

Yes, sir. Thank you for trying to teach me. Don’t give up on me, Dad.” American Beauty (1999)

I suppose my “father” did try, without a doubt he was the first one to tell me that I didn’t matter; do you know I was so scared of him when I was a child I would write notes about everything rather than face him. Maybe that’s what this is you know, I write notes to the world and then when I face rejection, it just tears me apart, let’s take this morning for example.

“Although it’s understandably cathartic when you find something that resonates with you, physically, emotionally, or otherwise- sometimes you have to ask yourself whether or not this is the right venue to write a monolog about it. This is one of those times. You’re not sick, as there is an entire industry supporting this exact genre. Sometimes things are just as simple as wanting to give up a measure of control (or seizing it) as a form of escape. This is also one of those times. Live outside your head more, dude. And for goodness sake, find some more open consensual adults to explore all aspects of your sexuality with. Seriously.”

‘A military man, especially a commander should keep a journal. After he’s gone, it’s the only real defense against the slander that later arises.” – General Bethlehem, The Postman (1997)

Okay, I have asked myself is this the right venue and I have decided that yes, it is, because it’s mine, Amazon, Goodreads, WordPress, Facebook along with a host of others have made it so. I agree with the ideas of both control and escape and again, I have questioned myself and again I have decided that my writing is a form both of control and also of escape as well. For now, I will live my life as I see fit even if that place is my own mind and as far as “consenting adults”, never in my life have I been with someone not consenting as you seem to be suggesting, yeah seriously.

“1) I hardly think a multi vitamin and some shit for my hair, skin, and nails constitutes “medicating” so I’m not worried at all about it.

2) I feel as though you look far too deep into what I write. I have a high pain tolerance, this has nothing to do with BDSM. “I look to my left” turns into a sensual song. Like, dude. No. I’m just looking at the sunrise. Nothing deeper than that. It skeeves me out that every comment written on here by you has something sexual included. This blog is not like that. Your comments and readership are respected and appreciated but the subject matter of what I write and will discuss are far different than what you write and wish to discuss. A lot of the things you say via comment are highly inappropriate. Not all, but a lot.”

Okay, Luna, I was trying to confront my demons on here, the first one was rather easy but the second one that “1-2” combo was from “Miss Girl for All Seasons” and even now I’m disgusted at myself for making her feel that way about me. I’m angry that I hurt our “friendship” like that, I’m angry that I can’t get over it, and I’m angry at her just in general. The point is Luna that words can build us up and knock us down just as easily as any brick, stone, or any amount of money, hell when I was writing my novel, each and every word is like building a whole new world.

“It’s time to change the world, kids. Here’s the blueprint” Messiah by Dead Celebrity Status

I don’t want to be like one of those people that answers, I’m only trying to touch one person because I’m too damn greedy and do I want fame and fortune… I wouldn’t say no to it. There was a time when I figured girls like the flowery stuff and they do if you have the face to go with it but the question is why do I write now.

“I shall die here. Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch, but one. An Inch, it is small and it is fragile, but it is the only thing the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must never let them take it from us. I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the world turns and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you. I love you. With all my heart, I love you – Valerie” V for Vendetta (2005)

A history teacher told me that history is written by the victors, yeah we’ve been over this because I said I think history is written by the survivors. In another book, a man said, we tell these stories, we write them down so no one can say they didn’t happen, there will be a record, of course, he was talking about accounts of the Holocaust.

So why do I write Lady Lu, I write to understand, myself, everything in between, and the girl I’m hoping to find someday because I rather not lie; I write fiction sometimes but I never lie. I write because there has to be a beginning, there has to be a place that I can say, yes this is where it started and now that I know where it began, here’s the present, and I can start writing my future. Luna these words come because in the universe I reside in, no place exists, do you think I could tell my breathing therapist this, my “friends” won’t understand and in words I can create a universe that can never be real, seek out a kingdom worthy of your soul, yeah the meaning of life once before.

“I am wandering inside, wandering through my past, trying to see if there is a place there strong enough to hold me.
—Ruth Mendenberg”
― Carol Matas, After the War

“There’s the secret of life. People change people. No matter what I teach you in here, learning from the people you care about is more important than the words on any page.” Girl Meets World

I don’t agree Mr. Matthews, that’s what I say to this Luna, words will always matter and I don’t like to think I care about the whole world, all I learned from the Amazon commenter and Miss Girl for All Seasons is that I’m wrong, I’m bad and while Miss Seasons has a valid point considering her own work I don’t have to talk to her anymore. No It’s you and me Luna, and yeah a few billion dollars would be nice but that’s another reason we’re friends, because I’m sick of being told I’m wrong, I’m sick of being told to go away, I’m sick of being unwanted, I hear that enough of when I leave my bed. Why do I write Luna, because that my dear was never an option in my case, in that moment I wrote my own name writing is who I truly was.

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here – that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?” John Keating, Dead Poets Society

I’m not getting religious on you Luna but wasn’t God lonely and so he created the world and while most of the world loves him/her/it some version there are people who still say no and for some reason that leaves him heartbroken? Talk about power, you see it isn’t just me except I’m not trying to cram myself down everyone’s throat, I know where to stop but someday I want to be everywhere, that’s the dream. I’ve never been a guy for just one, I mean one girl sure, one dog because Braxton is greedy, and while I dream of being in the one percent I know all too well the power of the people.

“I make mistakes but learn from every one
And when it’s said and done
I bet this Brother be a better one
If I upset you don’t stress, never forget
That God isn’t finished with me yet
I feel his hand on my brain
When I write rhymes I go blind and let the Lord do his thang” – Ghetto Gospel

I want to change the world Lady Lu, and it was the words on the page that got them to respond, to wreck my world and to fire me up to begin anew. People change people but I never got as close as the words did and while I respect Twitter my Blueprint, 140 Characters or Less… nope, I’m going to need some more.

“And I could still draw. Nothing had lessened it as much as I had abused it, abandoned it. It was a gift, and it was still mine. And everything else was less real. What can it mean? That picture of the world. But when it’s true, we recognize it in ourselves, in others. We recognize it, like love, completely undeserved.” – Finn Bell, Great Expectations (1998)

Six Dollar Clowns

Only today because I mentioned it in my “How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé” lesson, did she even exist way back then, every generation talks about the music before but this was the job before… Hardee’s. Six Dollar Clowns hmm

Ha Ha, Oh boy
Or girl
Really the whole damn world
What will it be sir
Voices and noise

Laughing and snacking
Is it not enough?
Maybe I’m just not tough
It’s all just too much
My soul is cracking

They’re attacking
Employers yes
Employees a mess
Guests
My soul, shattering

It’s too much
The noise
No joy
Call me a scared little boy
As you serve and eat your mush

Wearing tin grins
Throwing away your trash
Blow it out your ass
And you wonder why I’m sad
Because in the end…

To shout out
I can only stand around
Be bound
Another one of you six dollar clowns
Early clock out

Six dollar clown
But I’m not happy
It’s maddening
Working for Hardee’s
A fool, a loser, a nothing, I wear a frown

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 017 ~How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé~

This is what you get when you listen to Beyoncé for three hours straight, I like to think I have much better taste in music. How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé, might not sound like it from this but if I never heard her music again or life story

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Lesson 017 ~How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé~

Hey Lady Lu,
When we pretend that we’re dead, trust me it was the only way I survived at work today and this will be a rather musical lesson today. Crappy music at that since it will be mostly Beyoncé; I am Destiny’s Child at that, you know the one no one talks about, reminds me of “home”

Lose my breath, amongst other things whenever I show up to work, my voice, my nerve, my heart, and maybe my man card with the direction this is going. Talk about losing my life but the only life that was almost lost today was a cat that ran out in front of my car at work. I don’t think I’ve ever killed any “real” animals, my apologies to the squirrel population; I nearly hit a deer once, and a dog slammed into the driver’s side door.

Power, you and I should have all that power Lady Lu, ancient Chinese secret, did I ever mention how I get through most of my day if I had a million dollars; okay I’ll slow down a bit with the song titles, sounding like my poetry. I’ve actually interviewed for a few promotions but we know with the “Anxiety” that’s never really going to happen for me is it? You remember when I was wrestling with you know who and I caught both of her wrists… yeah, that sort of dominance would not be welcomed in the workplace ever.

Bootylicious as they think they are, but that’s a rant for another day, and I’m all about the Ned Flanders life, you know what happens whenever I like a girl. Speaking of which I never understood why people like Beyoncé that much, though back in the day I did have an eye for one of her partners, on my iPhone.

Don’t fear the reaper though, as crappy as most days at work though, short of the Beyoncé today was actually better than most even without my medication. How many things will remind me of “the incident”, most of the times that’s what the meds do, not remind me but make it so it won’t matter.

“We’re gonna eat these, Hannah, okay? Come on – You eat these. Eat these.

Are you trying to kill me?

No, sweetheart. I’m making you not care.” 28 Days Later

Haunted, now that’s a good way to describe it; you know I haven’t talked to another cute brunette in weeks and honestly, I can’t be the one to break the silence. I’ve said some pretty messed up things about girls of course, but to be a dream is better than a ghost right; no Lu I am not that crazy though plenty thought that about me which got me in a lot of trouble. People wonder why I lost the more romantic side of myself and if I had to describe it in any way it’s when Tony left Stella “How I Met Your Mother”.

“So what, you’re-you’re appealing to the romantic in me? Is that your strategy? Because that guy’s gone.
You can’t pull those strings anymore.
They’re not attached to anything thanks to you.” Ted Mosby – As Fast As She Can, HIMYM

99 Problems and a bitch ain’t one… that’s damn straight and I wish I could scream that out but wouldn’t that make me a weak and pathetic man, a catcaller of sorts. That’s just it Lady Lu, women think so much of themselves until it’s brought up and then if you have the right bank account, the right hype, the right face then it really doesn’t matter, don’t tell me it doesn’t. Don’t I sound bitter, more at myself than anything because at work when dude left, I could have decided the music right, I had that opportunity but I let anxiety stop me, fear, if only I had a Jay Z level of confidence.

Irreplaceable, don’t I wish but I have to keep silent, not to said I haven’t been missed or I haven’t shown courage listening to the tunes I do from time to time at work. It wouldn’t really matter though, Target, Wendy’s, Hardee’s (okay the six dollar clowns were mostly my fault) anyway who I am never really mattered in a way, with “Tall Ms. Seasonal” it was to the left.

“What do you mean, he didn’t talk? You were in there for an hour.

He just sat there, counting the seconds until the session was over. It was pretty impressive, actually.

Why would he do that?

To prove to me that he doesn’t have to talk to me if he doesn’t want to.

What is this, some kind of staring contest between two kids from the old neighborhood?

Yeah, it is. And I can’t talk first.” Good Will Hunting (1997)
Ordinary Human Lu, no I’m just human, no more and plenty of people would think a lot less; hell honestly I rather listen to Beyoncé than the things people say about me. The most people get out of me is a noise, though I do scoff at the general manager from time to time because really it’s just that ridiculous.

Crazy in love, not with any person so at least things aren’t that bad, though this song is, not the Fifty Shades of Grey version, or the Fifty Shades Darker one. Just another thing to think about, when I was at the store, a day ago this lady came up to me talking about our different tastes in root beer, and other than being annoying I actually thought, if I get famous I won’t have to do this anymore… shopping. From the looks of it Luna, you won’t make me famous but I part of the reason I’m talking to you is that of competition.

Don’t let me die tonight, I’ve never said but reasons I have to stay alive, at the top of the list, my Braxton, but as always somewhere is the thought of revenge. Remember I was all confession at first but now any money that isn’t going towards my new addiction “Saints Row” is going towards my writing and it’s all because of some woman. I don’t want her to hear me but I want everybody else to, I wonder do Jay Z and Beyoncé care that every aspect of their lives are just out there?

Runnin, my mouth that is or my fingers, I’m getting later and later with these my lady but I am trying, though at the moment I am having my fill of women… not in a good way. So what have I learned today… that I wish I could be a loud mouth like some, that most women are crazy and oh yeah this is How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé.

Dreaming Awake

I usually don’t have nightmares when I’m sleeping but since I have been working it seems the days and the nights are beginning to blur and being awake is a nightmare. Dreaming Awake… I think I rather not dream at all anymore and yet I continue

Dreaming awake, sweet dreams really…
Can you hear, oh the time
It’s just like kneeling
How God denies
The very existence of my life
Doesn’t he make mistakes?
I know your lie
Dreaming awake

All that I’ve been feeling
You’re just as blind
Watching is like killing
Behind those closed blinds
Think you’re so divine
Like him a fake
As I try to drive
Dreaming awake

Screaming yet somehow I’m dealing
But me you’ll never find
Closed doors and jeering
Yeah I want to hide
Or just to cry
Everything I have take
Let me sign
Dreaming awake

Yet I fight
Won’t begin to pray
Just let me die
Dreaming Awake

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.