Brandon

Brandon Nov 2017

Nerves

I stay awake
For far too long

Waiting for these nerves
To die out

So I can settle down
And get some sleep

So I can awaken
For far too long

Waiting for these nerves
To die out

Brandon Sep 2017

Working A Second Shift In A First Shift Life (or how i just strung some words together to make a title that has little to do with this poem)

0213.

My wife is sleeping.
My dogs are sleeping.
My cats are sleeping.

I'm awake.

Eating beef jerky.
Drinking lime La Croix.
Putting sights on a rifle.
Flipping channels on the TV.

Wanting to sleep.

But still awake.

******.

Brandon Jul 2017

I Forgot What To Title This

I remember
When the music didn't come
When the words did not flow
When creating didn't happen

I remember
Strangling my fingers on strings
Pounding my fists on keys
And my voice shouted hoarse

I remember
Ink flowing across a page
And the click clack of QWERTY
As words became sentences became stories

I remember
Sawdust on the floor
The hum of power tools
My hands building what my mind saw

I remember
The frustrations etched into my soul
When my soul was not at peace
And Death layed inside my being

I remember
When the music didn't come
When the words did not flow
When creating didn't happen

I remember
Wishing for my memory
To remove
Everything that I could remember

Brandon Jul 2017

Check List

Wake up.
Die a little.
Get ready, go to work.
Die a little.
Clock in.
Pad someone else's wallet off your sweat.
Clock out.
Die a little.
Go home, wind down.
Die a little.
Go to sleep.
Die a little.
Repeat daily for years.
Retire with your life to look forward to.
Die.

Brandon Jul 2017

HereWeGo

'Round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round and 'round...

All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

I don't know who Jack is.

**** Jack.

Brandon Jul 2017

Day

Every day is a new day

To feel the closeness of Death
Wanting to take my last breath

Every day is a new day

When I open my eyes
And ask why

Every day is the same old day

And I'm just another machine
Stuck in the way
Of a tomorrow

Brandon Apr 2017

My Work Is Done

My forging hammer 
Lies reclined  

My bellows, too 
Have lost their wind  

My fires extinct 
My forge decayed  

And in the dust 
My vices layed   

My coal is spent 
My iron is gone 
My anvil is broke
My work is done  

My work is done 
My work is done 
My work is done

*My chisels
Lie dull

My saws, too
Have lost their edge

My trees are felled
My lumber decayed

And in the sawdust
My clamps layed

My angles are bent
My jigs are gone
My tools are rusted
My work is done

My work is done
My work is done
My work is done

Italicized from the song "My Work Is Done" by Steve Von Till (lyricist unknown) the bold is an added in addition in the spirit of woodworking by myself.