Tag: Writing

Convince The Reaper

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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.

Adjusting My Hat

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I hear the words, masquerading as a man with a reason, which of course I have none and rather than accept it I pretend. Adjusting My Hat… I just got my hair cut and felt somewhat bald or I just like my hood; if anything it’s what’s I think?

As if I were some hood
What is it I’m hiding?
Want to know… you should
Hate what you’re not abiding
And I know you would
That’s why I’m not surviving
It’s for the common good?
From the pope’s skullcap
All I am a blunder
Is it time for a nap
Who are you my mother?
Don’t tell me I’m trapped
Still I’m not like the others
The frequency I fap

For love is quite illegal
While I wear this sombrero
Could I be more regal?
How I need the dinero
But that wouldn’t be legal
To Nevada, should I go?
Fly like an eagle

If only I could play
Don’t lose my head
I should Tebow everyday
Yeah that’s what I said
Could there be a way
Not lying here in bed
Alone another day

Should I put on my Fedora?
Will I control my fate?
Go to Bora, Bora
Just to get away
Shall I lie amongst the flora
You say it’s a mistake
Yet I want more of…

Where is my mind?
Isn’t it what’s under?
The reason and the rhymes
Everything I wonder
Mad Hatter sublime

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

Dante’s Light

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The clear path… I have long since lost it as Dante had; dare I compare myself to him when honestly I know I’m going to Hell. Dante’s Light… I suppose things are getting hot here and as always I see no escape or Cure from such

Familiarity
How dare it be scary
What once was home
Becoming unknown

Conformity
Don’t you know me?
I am not one of you
And you thought you knew
How
Right now
It’s just so loud

My Tranquility
The simple ability
To hide
Will I survive?
When secrets
A personal Jesus
Takes my Beatrice

Universal good
Knew it would
Come
End of my fun
Like you left
Catch my breath
But I’m not dead yet

You shout praises
Your God saves us
By that meaning the few
His aim is true
Such is my upset
Praying to reconnect
What I’ve wrecked

If I’m to blame
Think I’m going insane
Over something so inane
That golden glow
Didn’t I know?
Fire down below
Personal Devil
Prepares to revel
Was I really such a rebel?

Wanting to be free
Less ordinary
Inferno for me

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

Execute Son

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TMNT… I heard Splinter say once that all fathers love their sons, but I’m twenty-seven and I still live in constant fear of mine. Execute… Son; I look at my childhood compared to my sister’s and realize I was the prototype to her great future, hmm…

An experiment
A figment
Of someone’s imagination
This demonstration
Something called life
Might just not be right
So goodnight

As we go on
Someone should warn
All of us
That we come from the dust
We play God
But we are not
Cover pulled up top

Do we not seek the answer?
The cure for Cancer
Immortality
Life is a disease
Killing us all
For we must fall
Will I ever be that tall?

Planet full of apes
And I wait
Child and parent
To see what is gravely apparent
I’m the prototype
Wasted megabytes
Should I sleep or die

I’ve got a theory
He didn’t want me
Is that the conclusion?
What is the solution?
Before the sun
Program run
Execute… Son

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

Topless

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This started out as sort of a physical idea and turned into a bit of rage and a somewhat apology towards someone I sort of wronged but can I help it that I feel wronged too? “Topless”, no I’m not being pervy or skeevy, that’s what she said… that joke

From crown to toe top full, brain
language, why Shakespeare sees dead
people and I would make a list
Only where is my mind, some missed
season, winter, spring, summer and
I see none of her why

Why these old eyes are led
to whatever drives a man mad and insane
and still, I will wish
Well I should hear, listen, learn, that a kiss
would be better than any lie
that I would try to understand

I’m only human, I am a man
which comes, pretty damn close I surmise
to being a god, but my heart pre-exists
A condition that cannot be dismissed
so I gain
nothing at least that’s what I read

To have those guts whilst
my disgust, my rage, made into a fist
to withstand, maybe, possibly, the pain
Then came wrath after such dread
of all the things I said, promises and demands
for my suicide and who am I

Better I ask who are you Ms.
wanna be goddess
keeping those legs spread
One more broad, a dame
who made my monster say hi
only it wasn’t your plan

Let me apologize if only for this
you see I exist
yes I fall and now I stand
Indeed a man must try
even if I must profane
God forgive us both for what was said

While we all lie topless

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

Fresh Fear

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They don’t know they’re gone die… cows I mean, indeed all animals, hell neither do I and yet I know the fear of death. Fresh Fear; it seems like every day I find something new to be afraid of and one day I will be devoured, and when the time comes I’ll be…

Fresh, alive, me
After last night’s dream
More like a nightmare, you see

Born of my indiscretion
Reflected
Detected

On my way to the slaughterhouse
To be a mouse
How I denounce

This heart’s beating
There is no entreating
The end I’m meeting

I’m already burning
With the blades turning
Already hurting

Misery and strife
I’ll fry
But first the knife

Better to rot
At least it would stop
Wouldn’t be on top

Those carrion crows
Who would know?
Where could I go?

Nowhere
It’s not fair
Being so scared

Chosen
Frozen
Is there atonement?

Never
Should I treasure?
Forever

I don’t want to die
Or hide
Not even survive

Another breath to give
To live
Don’t think I ever did

Fear is all
As my flesh crawls
Raw

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

My Enemy Within

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Biology… the mere thought makes me want to vomit blood, and the sight but more importantly the knowledge of such blood makes me wish I was never born. My Enemy Within… and I know now that it’s not me and not even within anymore but without anyone.

My enemy within
If only I could see
Begin again

How my eyes do descend
Who’s scorn would it be
My enemy within

Who, what, where, and when
Stop, I plead
Begin again

Defend
Not a possibility
My enemy within

Because of him
Who’s your daddy?
Begin again

It never ends
Him, you, and me
My enemy within
Begin again

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

DO NOT CROSS

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Like a door marked do not enter or maybe do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, I have always been kept out or maybe I just didn’t want to go in. DO NOT CROSS… that red ribbon or maybe yellow police tape; what will we find behind it.

Do not enter
Such colorful tape
To state
On such treasures
An entrance to forever
Someday
Or much too late
Whatever

Red ribbon
Happy faces cut
Yet I love
Yellow hintin’
At who still lies?
Inside

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

Rowing Or…

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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

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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.