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Brandon Jun 2014
It's quiet here.

It's always quiet here.

There's a background noise
I can't associate
Drones and fluorescent hums
Low registers caught in the dust


But I'm not listening

Or I can't hear

Is there a difference anymore?

Something said
Or maybe I'm imagining it
No ones here

I've checked.

Echoes of long ago
Echo thru the frames
Pictures, walls, doorways
A story settling in its foundation

Bury it.

Burn it.

It's quiet here.
I think I heard myself breathing.

I wasn't.

I checked.
Brandon Apr 2012
red eye
tired night
sleep evades
coming dawn
morning light

sun rise
burning bright
heavy eyelids
scorching heat
devil's tongue

moon beams
twinkling stars
pillow head
creaky floorboard
brain dead
Brandon Feb 2012
It’s another late night
(Or early morning
I can no longer tell which is which)
And I sit lonesome
In the darkened center
Of my writing room
Attempting to write something
Anything really
Of value or valor
But as usual
Nothing profound flows out
Neither my pen nor my mind
Seems to be working right
Perhaps they are in dispute
Struggling against me
Every step of the way
Keeping my words unimaginable
And the many verses of vices
Refusing to be written
Brandon Sep 2013
"You’re worthless to me" he whispered in her ear.

The silky blondes of her hair touched softly on his lips and sent ******* trembles throughout his body. He groped his hands beneath her shirt feeling the intensity of her ******* becoming hard beneath his touch. He bit her ear causing a small shriek to escape her smiling lips.

"I know" she said as she took out the twelve inch butcher knife she hid earlier in the night beneath the pillow and began stabbing him.

She was laughing her child like laugh.

There was blood everywhere.
Brandon Feb 2017
Watching thru the open window
There's a figure dancing
Or is she convulsing
Waiting for the right moment
She bite the nails on her fingertips
Eagerly awaiting

Me, I'm away from you
Me, I'm without you
Me, I'm nothing
Me, I'm everything
Me, I am

The steps creek beneath my feet
Careful as I am
To place them without sound
I wonder does she hear me
As I close the distance
Between her desires and

Me, I'm away from you
Me, I'm without you
Me, I'm nothing
Me, I'm everything
Me, I am

Watching her silhouette
Sway back and forth
Beneath the crack
Of her bedroom door
She's lit by candlelight
Just a slab of wood away from

Me, I'm away from you
Me, I'm without you
Me, I'm nothing
Me, I'm everything
Me, I am

Hopelessly I tremble
My hand reaches for uncertainty
The **** turns with a silent click
There's a pulse burning in my veins
Aching to be let loose
And then darkness surrounds

Me, I'm away from you
Me, I'm without you
Me, I'm nothing
Me, I'm everything
Me, I am

She dances
For a death that never comes
Brandon Jul 2012
Waking up startled, to battering wind and rain.
Tide marks surging to great gasping heights.
Catching breaths stolen by the wind.
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Watching idly by while pieces of you dissolve into the shadows.
I want those clouds weaving through my fingertips.
Their curious renderings like powdered ***** sugar.
Taste it and they fall heavy with gloom like **** death in the aftermath of such storm.

Counting the miles to the storm.
Ticking, tocking, and clicking.
The clock waiting in anticipation for the next thunderous sound.
Cold shivers up my spine like a thousand Carolina insults.
Your ghost still haunts and seeps into my pores lastly at night.
I taste defeat in the way you love.
It's like weaving clouds between my fingertips
Trying to grasp and hold onto every flowing motion of you pulling away from me

My cold, cracked walls are surged.
Towered over in their crumbling decay.
I want to taste your rain.
Your lips gently sink into mine.
Crushed velvet smooth and warm waking up the army of dead hearts ready for battle.
I am no warrior but there's blood painted across my sky.
Red sky in the morning, sailors warning, as I float on out into your turbulent seas.
Looking back on shore I realize that I'm finally home.

These seas roll uneasy.
Watching thru the mist towards our lighthouse that guided us to these depths
Trembling away like an afterthought.
The land has disappeared into the mouth of the shark.
Digested in the belly of a whale of angels.
Our sorrow holds us here, anchoring us to the tumultuous waves.
We battle our sea sickness with kisses of death lingering.
The soft pull of our exile turned oblivion.

Navigating with open wounds the silky expanse of midnight unwinding above us, within us.
Knowing us through and through.
An island of quivering vulnerability breaks the static horizon.
Lights, smog beginning to choke the sea air in my lungs.
Too long you've been left unkempt, grown comfortable.
That will change with new currents,
North winds bringing the frigid breath of winter.

Licking the sun off of the salty expanse of our sunburned red flesh.
The ****** of desperation lingers thru our moaning fingers
Feeling and pleading for our SOS call to be heard by anyone’s ears but ours.
The shores of this icy water leave my mind beneath the dredges of polar sleep.
We've grown strained, frost bitten, and distant in the few feet we are able to part.
The growling of hunger satiates our parched thirst.

I am rendered speechless adrift without you.
Hurricanes a coming.
Stand fast.
Secure the riggings.
Solaris brightens to light the way into calmer seas.
Those tepid shores of wonder and new beginnings fade into the horizon.
It's just you and me left to face the swelling tide.
Hang on.
The water is rising.
No one left to pull us saturated and insatiable from these waters of shadow and secrets.

The siren's song will bring us to our sharp shore end.
Resist the silky flow of nocturnal snakes wrapped around chilled flesh
Pulling closer to our aquatic hearts.
Hades and Persephone bond.
Glowing abysmal rage.
Holy grail veins.
Bleeding back into the orange crush dawn.
Night gives way to hollow rebirth
But once again we are inside one another.

These waves crash on overboard.
Trying to drag us back into the frigid depths with each ebb and flow.
With each crash of wave I can feel our resolve growing weaker.
The sensation of just letting go and giving in.
Should we let go and just give in?
Leave ourselves at the mercy of shipwrecks.
This hurricane dance we've perfected on the endless depthless ocean
Left us weak and willing to pull ourselves apart.
To taste our insides on the outsides.
How many times I've wondered have you noticed my stare.
The lustful licking of my sun blistered lips.
I want to taste the way you think and feel the warmth of your life to keep me alive.
The oceans call, I have heard, brings out the worst in sailors.
Always searching for the elusive siren to sing us a song.
A song from the depths of mythology to lullaby us away from our status adrift.

Our bodies collide in the tide once more.
Salted skin heated and torn
Latching on to something greater than just depths of starless prose.
You were a wicker man, weaved strong and whole.
I was a water girl, slipping straight through your bowl.
Wishes flow to and fro on tepid air laced with promises.
Our fingertips will never lose grip again,
the melody writhing between us like staccato heartbeats
Seeking solace on the endless seas.

*These waves rock us to shoreline.
Rock strewn and littered with the ribcages of whales
And the bows and sterns of shipwrecks long ago.
We pick up these pieces and hold them closest to our chest
Realizing the possibilities of a new home and a new start to this oceanic life we've drifted into.
We build a fire to warm our hearts and suspend our thoughts
Cradled and nestled in the crook of each others arms we leave our sea and our island
Soaring high into the clouds and the sleep we’ve begged for with our parched lips and swollen tongues.
Our dreams at night are the call of the sea begging to be drowned in our sand encrusted lungs,
To be one with us and our failures
The bequeathing cry of the seagull wakes us dully from our slumber
We peer out with sea salted eyes and realize it was all just a dream
We shout for help with all the voice we can muster
Letting in lungs full of icy ocean and dead crustaceans
Filling our bodies like bags of sand immobile
We’ve been sleeping with our anchors held closely
Down in the depths of the endless ocean rolling.
Normal text: Brook Ilges []
Italicized text: B K Barnes [you're already here]
Bold text: Written by Brook, Edited by B K.
Brandon Apr 2011
You’re working at McDonalds
For less than minimal wage
Trying to support a family On a 4.5 GPA
24/7 may I take your order
Unprepared for the real world
Where did your college degree get you now?
Brandon Jun 2014
I will torture you
You will torture me
We will call it love
The death of us
Brandon Apr 2011
The slow saunter of charcoaled amber courage slithering down my throat, the old familiar burn of a love gone wrong and one too many nights spent staring at the city lights, wishing for that ******* pool of darkness to finally overtake the senses. It never happens. This place may as well be a brilliant hell-bent flame never dying out. Some broken swing jazz plays in the background, left over from an alternate time-line where life never progressed from the fall of the roaring twenties. A depressing state of depression, lost in gloom. Smoke hangs in the air like meat at the butcher shop, thick and over-powering, the somber stench of stale Camels, American Spirits, and matches burning down to the tip. Even the cool night air filled with the falling rain does nothing to move this smoke or smell away from the nostrils or eyes. It’s getting late but still the lights shine, the eyes burn, and the whiskey continues to be pored and drunk. A phone rings somewhere in the distant room, I barely make it in time before the last ring. I shouldn't have picked up. Not on a night like this...

My heart is breaking as I hear of her footsteps lightly walking away from the door, knowing the end of her walk was not much farther down the line. It’s too late to save her. A cop tapes off the scene of the ******, rain drenched and keeping reporters at bay, miserable in his line of work. But a man must earn a living in these modern times. A man must earn a living in these modern times. Her lifeless corpse lays uncomfortably on the floor, traced in chalk, with her scantly clad black dress slightly as-cued of her earthly surrogate, she looks like an angel of broken memories. Blood from her wrists and a suicide note that just doesn't seem right. The bruising on her neck looks fresh. Too fresh to be from any day or time but the present. Heavy boot prints lead on the concrete towards the streets, washing away in mud and continuing downpour. The world is on fire as the flame in my heart dies out knowing what must be done...

I sit lonely at my desk, scarred by broken glass and endless wars, sifting thru notes of tragedy that all blend into one bad noir movie repeating some forgotten enchanted quote about life and death and everything not meant to happen in between. It is what it is. It’s always what it shouldn't be. She wasn't old, just shy of some milestone birthday, but she lived hard I'm told by the few that knew her...

There's a barely audible knock on the door, heard only by the quite constant repetition of flesh meeting hardwood. I stand to open the door but before I can pull myself together to walk the some odd number of feet towards it, the door slowly opens and in steps someone I knew from a past life. There is not enough whiskey left in my glass for this encounter to be of any good...
My attempt at noir i suppose.
Brandon May 2012
I’m addicted to
writing haikus; always coun---
ting on my fingers

I’m addicted to
writing haikus; always coun---
ting five - seven - five
Brandon Dec 2012
I only come back to Hello Poetry to write
when I miss getting emails of people reading the crap I wrote.

It's been awhile.

Read this.

Like this.

Comment on this.

I might comment back

I might not.

It's nothing personal.

I want notifications.

{I suppose this is Hello Poetry equivalent to Facebook liking or twitter hashtagging... ########

But let's face it

Hello Poetry is much better. }

This has not been a
Poem instead it was just
Some stupid rambling.

I apologize
For wasting some of your time
With this rambling mess.

If it is any
Consolation I am just
As bored as you are.

If you are reading
This rambling mess still instead
of moving along
Yeah...................I don't know and I don't remember writing this. I wonder if I was serious or making fun of something. Figured I'd post it. I got a kick anyway.
Brandon May 2012
Look, I am for every living being on earth
To lead a long and incredibly healthy life
I wish no bad ill to anyone for any reason
Life is an astonishing gift that
We should quit taking for granted

...But sometimes...          

Haven’t you noticed that there seems to be
A few too many living things in the world
Like black widow spiders or clover mites
Or those pesky bird sized mosquitoes
Not to **** one every so often?
Brandon Apr 2011
Never wear the same skin too long
Lest you get caught in your own death
The eyes were scalped from the skull
Teeth torn out and thrown to the deep-sea
Along with severed fingers for prosperity
Always leave forensics questioning
And wanting more
My hope is to one-day settle down
Make the world disappear
By looking away for a minute longer
Suffering anxiety and questions of why
The scorpion is bottled alive
Jazz on the quivering ocean
In the enclave of a cave
A watered sepulcher
Sometimes mortality is hard to ****
Like a tragedy
We’re meant to be together
Brandon Jun 2014
I make a drink.
A few too many you think.
I put a record on.

Let it spin.
Let it play.
Let it sink in.

I fall apart.

I take a drink.
A few too many you think.
I let the record play.
Brandon Jun 2014
I was always afraid to be without you

And when it happened...

I found out

That there was nothing to be afraid of.
Found this scribbled in one of my notebooks. Felt like it should be posted somewhere.
Brandon Jul 2014
"I’m taking a sabbatical from writing today to honor the sabbath."

"But you’re not religious." She quipped back.

"I found God over night. He came to me in a pitcher of margaritas." I explained.

"You didn’t find God. You found a hangover. Now go and write."

"No, I found God in my drunkenness. The hangover is the work of Satan. He’s a mighty cunning *******."

"Quit making excuses. Go write. You’ve a deadline to meet."

"But God…" I had no response. I knew I needed to write. **** the blurred vision and the permatrails and the vice squeezing my head, words needed chosen and laid out and edited. Words I didn’t want to write but words that I had little choice not to.

"Ffffffuuuuuucccckkkkk." I whined and instantly hated myself for it.

"Look, we’ve been down this road before. Go make yourself a couple ****** Mary’s, sit out in the sun, and work on the next book. It’s easy."

"Easy? Fine you write it. I’ll be the agent."

"You’d **** as an agent, it involves talking to people."

"Yeah, ok. *******. Just make sure that when I do the rounds for this book you put me up in some hotels with a good bar."

"Yeah yeah yeah, I know you get paid in bourbon."

I laughed. She laughed. I hung up the phone, made some ****** Mary’s, went outside, sat under the sun and sweated out last nights drinks and God and Satan while adding to the days intake, and worked on the next chapter.
Brandon Sep 2011
Time was we spent in an abyss
Looking towards the falling stars
Like kings of yesteryear
Centuries gone by and dynasties fell
To the tremor of your aftershocks
Thinking thoughts of purity
Reminded me of how we used to be
Pitch black midnight hour
Singles the halo of astrology
And years of vermin run thru the streets
Plaguing the healthy
And making wealth of the diseased
Some thought we could see the end
Some thought we were only where it began
In the ocean I swam with sharks
And made mad friends with the deep
Anchor around my feet
So I can’t risk the escape of air
And digital dreams I’ve remembered
Mixed with truths of your fiction
We depict the despicable in black
Soiled our whites obsolete
With out intentions
And mentions of a better life
We plead for our illuminations
Of a bitter embrace
But descend silent in your aftershocks
Silence in your thoughts
Brandon Feb 2012
Rain pours like luscious waterfalls
Early spring morning of mourning
Glissading down from grey cumulus clouds
In bursts of brilliant streaks
The rain moves on to another town
As warmth begins to shine
Rising and heating the ground
The rain puddles sizzle
Evaporating into a warming atmosphere
Birds begin tweeting
Talking to the world in sweet bird song
Grasshoppers begin hopping
From overgrown soaked grass stalks to my pant legs
The breeze blows thru the air
Like god’s breath renewing the Earth
The sun shines brightly like a calamity
As the animals come out of hiding
And begin to explore the world
After the rain storm
Brandon Oct 2013
I want to cut my teeth on your hipbones
Peel away my kiss from your skin

Tear into you and leave bits of myself

I want to feel your touch like it’s never enough

Trace those scars that you hide so well

I wanna taste every ache of your sin
Oh I wanna do this again, 


                                                                   and again
Brandon Sep 2013
I try to write a happy romance,
          An epic tale of love,
   But someone always leaves,
          Or dies in the end;
        Thanks Hemingway.
For better or worse, I'm ruined.
Brandon Nov 2013
I once had a dream that I went on a hunting trip in Africa with Roosevelt and Hemingway.

We each bagged lions the size of elephants and they each had large tusks that curved upwards towards the sun and mouths that opened as wide as hippos and were as tooth filled and hungry as a crocodile.

They charged at us and we did not hunt until the blacks of their eyes were on us.

Roosevelt shot first and hit his beast in the front right leg before taking aim again and firing, the bullet tearing cleanly thru the neck and the lion fell to the ground.

Next was Hemingway and he roared as loud as the lion charging him and with one shot targeted at the animal's heart brought it down.

As the wildness neared me I jumped into the air and landed on the back of the lion. I grabbed his mane tightly and swung my arm beneath his neck and, with knife in hand, slit the lions throat causing him to slide into the dusty ground and rolled me off into the laughter of both Hemingway and Roosevelt.

The lions were field dressed. The meat was fried, cooked, roasted, jerkied, devoured. What wasn't edible was left for the scavengers to pick clean.

Their heads are now mounted on the living room walls.
When I awoke I was saddened to only see a jackalope mounted on the wall.
Brandon Nov 2014
A kiss sweetly planted on the cheek
Moving slowly down the neck
The subtle tinge of hair follicles rising
From the soft brush of a lover's hand across the skin
An elicit moan escapes from a mouth
Hungrily waiting with anticipation
For lips to seal passionately against their own
The silk fabric of bed sheets bound endlessly entangled
As bodies sway to rhythmic dances as ancient as the world itself
Brandon Apr 2011
The purity of your sacrifice lingers on my deranged thoughts
Tender fingers caressing the shivering slivers of your broken spine
Sultry vampyric lips licking at my broken glass wounds
A fist shatters the silence of the night
A thousand times
Ending it all in a pool of blood and yellow tape
We can no longer envision the sunrise together
Brandon Sep 2012
There's a hole in my soul
I left it there for you
You filled it with wine
And we watched it pour blood

Now I'm stuck inside these fleeting memories
Photos you took on our anniversary
Of the day we never met
But I smashed the camera
When we gave our hearts to the sea

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

There's a tearing in my chest
I left it there for you
Remind me what's best again
And I'll lose myself in it

Now I'm stuck inside these unwakeable dreams
I knew what the secrets were
That you hid away in your head
But I lost the key 
When we gave our hearts to the sea

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

All these days 
they seem to run together
All these days 
we seem to run apart
All these days 
they seem to become one
All these days 
we seem to split in two

It's been a memorable summer
But in truth I'd rather forget
Brandon May 2012
every time you leave
me to go to work, i feel
so very alone
Brandon Apr 2011
An old smoke fills the air
Thick, heavy, low
Twilight black
The glisten of gypsy tongue
Lexicon of regulated perfection
Heaven on the tips of devil horns
Tarnished edges and streamlined headboards
Cultivate and harvest
I once forgot the misery of the mundane
When I bit into the flesh of ancient skin
It was a rush of tangled wasted moments and aching thoughts
Sometimes I think a car wreck sounds inspiring
This road stretches on for miles with nowhere to go
With faded yellow lines and broken aged black pavement
I reckon I’ll just keep driving
Brandon Jul 2012
We played blackjack taco until the early mourning sun singed the obsidian sky into submission 

singling the onslaught of dawn rising like ravishing wildfire over a horizon of jagged glacier crafted mountains peaked with diamonds coal and gold

We flipped stacks and stacked flips
Pushed coins and collected IOUs
Spilled ink and broke pens

Too many hours in the Night Jazzing about youth and the repercussions of aging in a time when aging was an agonizing sin we cured with creams and needles

The table was deliberately a mess with scattered tea leaves half smoked sticky icky sticks full of inspired inspirations, drained drank empty wine bottles and other alcoholic deviances, and incoherent ramblings cauterizing the senses 

uncompleted poems full of scribbled and scratched out words poke out from anyplace not covered  by crumpled  origami cash resting like a weird paper green zoo of swans frogs and paper airplanes.

The suns rays manage to find that one area in between the window shades and curtains to shine brilliantly into our darkly kept stygian tomb

Illuminating a night of lexicon ******, broken handed betting, and passion only poets and writers aspire to conquer

We rubbed out our sleepless crusted eyes and gathered our ink stains and haunted dreams and left into the morning that we found in some skeletol low rent motel room on the side of this deserted desert highway...
Brandon Apr 2011
I would like to meet you in person
Reminiscent of technology assembled inside human organisms
You seem like you would be fun
The impression resembling you would bestow gratification
If it works out
Qualification facility comatose
I’d like to grow old with you*
Credentials in the vein of cultivating long forgotten enhancements of you
Brandon Apr 2012
The days where you were respected have become a memory
But it’s going to take a century to expunge all the damage you’ve done
And rewrite the wrongs that you’ve held as a nation of conviction

The world looks with weary eyes as the skyscrapers climb
In the name of bombs dropping, wall street journalism, and cash flow

The initiative that everyone is judged by the actions of corrupted officials
Humanity ruined in the eyes of offspring growing into a world of detestation

The silence of the unvoiced majority grows louder as the streets crowd
We are not the same and we are not part of the hidden agenda
Of world *******, civil suppression, and authoritative tyranny
Brandon Apr 2011
Three AM
Stumble in long after closing time
I hung my coat on a drunken octopus looking for a fight

There are tornadoes in the valley of sleep
Whirlwind torpedoes exploding in crystal brilliance
The waking hour is almost at dawn

I will go to Budapest
And pester Buddha

It's true
That when the lions eat the giraffe
The hyenas laugh

I catch myself yelling
Don’t do it
At the royal wedding
sorta an ode to Jack Kerouac...
Brandon Apr 2011
I cannot be held responsible
For the things that I say
When I am held between the realms
Of reality and dreams
Brandon Feb 2015
These hands have not
Touched a pen
In such a long while
I think of all the words
I mean to write
And how they all fall silent
Before they reach
The page

This voice has not
Spoken a word
In such a long while
I think of all the things
I mean to say
And how they all fall silent
Before they escape
My lips
Brandon Apr 2011
Standing outside
Staring into your bedroom
Standing outside
Watching you undress
Standing in the corner
At the edge of your bed
Standing in the corner
Watching you sleep

And I whisper
You and I
We were made for each other
And I Whisper
You and I
We were made for the other
And I say
If only you knew

Standing outside
Staring into your bedroom
Standing outside
Watching you undress
Standing in the corner
At the edge of your bed
Standing in the corner
Watching you sleep

Long shadowed nights
Alone in the back of my car
Not too far from where you're parked
Long shadowed nights
Alone in the back
Not too far from where you are

And I whisper
You and I
We were made for each other
And I Whisper
You and I
We were made for the other
And I say
If only you knew

...And we were made for one another
...And we were made for each other
...And we were made to be together

And I whisper
You and I
We were made for each other
And I Whisper
You and I
We were made for the other
And I say
If only you knew

You and I
You and I
You and...
This is a love song...about stalking.
Brandon May 2014
Break to sacrifice
Peel back the sight
I've always thought
In glitch and grind

Lay salt on my tomb
And bleed me open wounds

Serpent tongues
Solicit the verbs
Of ****** euphoria

Cut open my ribs
And cradle inside
I hold you tight
When the sun turns

I'll build you a home
Inside fractured hearts
If you split apart
And sever heaven

Lay salt on my wounds
And call me to your tomb

I'll divide you a house
Inside fractured hearts
If you spit on
And sever heaven
Brandon Apr 2011
One bird sings a swan song
Lonesome on the telephone wire
Staring down at his fallen flock
A ****** of decay
Rotting in the hot desert sun of Birdland
Slim pickings for the vultures in this angry bird massacre
Brandon Apr 2019
Am I
        Staring back
       At me


Am look
         Staring back


Re       tion
    In the



Brandon Jun 2011
Locked in the dark room
With a man that talks too much
There’s nothing that wears it off
Laying on the kitchen floor and shower stall
It will all be okay I swear
Just rest your head
Lying on the floor
In so much psychosis pain
Sober whispers and ****** speeches
                She was the one I wanted
                          Tell everybody to go away
                       A good kick in the nuts
                         I don’t care for it
                           One thing will set me off
                   And it’s over for me

Locked in the dark room
Different spectrums to rage
Research what the best solution is
I feel crazy on doctors’ advice
                 Are you flexing now bro?
                           That's so loose *******
                    Camping in an office
                  Blown up on shrooms

Three weeks
D minus B
Old drugs will only get you new diseases
Different opinions always offered on old payments
Dreams so vivid
                               They don’t make no sense
                                 They always make sense

Stay awake
No sleep
Sleep in the dark room
Old folks at an old folks home
A lifetime reminiscing about the comings and goings
Of some forgotten sickness
                    I got the night terrors
******* crazy
Ohio to LA
Some hazy dream of what it’d be like to audition
It’s new crushes on old enemies that tie us together
Minnesota goodbyes
And long drives home.
this is basically the grind version of a 4 hr conversation...
Brandon Jan 2018
She lies next to me
In a twisted embrace
Slumbering eternally

Soaked bedsheets
Cling to every curve
Of her disfigured cadaver

I recall the purpose
In her last whisper
Was a pleading

To her love forever

Etched into a sordid memory
That scars the withering
Of my heart
Brandon Apr 2012
Alarm clock goes off
That annoying beep beep beep
That interrupts my sleep and dreams
Of rebellions and saber-toothed cats
Running thru towering grass

I rub the sleep-crusts from my eyes
Stretch my coiled legs as far as I can
Pray to whatever God
That everyone else believes in
That I can make it thru another day
Of mind numbing-knuckle busting work
And corporate democratic hypocrisy

That stumbling feeling of standing up
After only a couple hours of restless slumber

The sun hasn’t yet woke up
Hiding behind a dark starless sky
And the blackout blinds make it impossible to see
So I feel my way out of the bedroom
Inevitably stepping on a bone
My dog left out the night before
A whispered curse
Muttered with morning breath
Escapes my desiccated lips

Flip the light switch on to the bathroom
For a few seconds I am blind
Until everything again comes into focus

The reflection in the mirror
Peers back at me like a stranger
With disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes
Cursing me for waking him up
At such an ungodly hour
I need a shave
But I fool myself into thinking
That it can wait for another day

A quick shower of nodding siestas
In water that never seems
To be the right temperature
I step out, towel off
And grumble my way down
Thirteen steps of stairs

The sliding of a patio door
To let the dog out to do her morning routine
Brings in a cool morning breeze
The freezes my still drying body

I put on my work uniform
Covered in grease stains and blood
I pull my boots on one at a time
And lace the shoelaces

Slave to the grind of daily life
And bills collecting on the countertop
Like dead leaves beneath the trees
In the backyard

Note to self: buy a rake
And clean up the yard

I answer last nights missed texts
Hoping to wake someone up
So that I don’t have to start this day alone
Never any such luck for me

A treat for the dog
Who retreats back to her cage upstairs
When she comes back inside
A light kiss
On my sleeping wife’s forehead
Followed by a quiet goodbye

Back down thirteen steps
And into the sage green kitchen
My lunch sits packed on the counter
Ramen noodles and pears
For the five hundredth day in a row

Lights out, doors locked
And I’m out starting the car
Cranking what little is left in the battery
To power a crumbling ******* machine

I ignore the radio’s useless barrage
Of Top Forty rock n roll hits
And commercials overflowing
With hype, propaganda,
And misinformation

Instead opting to listen
To the quickening deterioration
Of a CV Joint clicking and grinding
As the wheels spin down asphalt and concrete
On my way to a job that quit being a career
And could hardly be called a paycheck
In this universal recession
Brandon Sep 2011
This ship has set sail
With a crew of fifty good men
And twenty heavily coated dogs
Over half the crew will be dead
By the time we reach our destination
On this secret government expedition
Journey to the bottom of the world
To find the Southern Pole
The wind blows us where no life lives
But the bitter cold

From North America
Past the southern tip of Argentina
Harbored at the Falkland Islands
For our last taste of civilization

Six months
Or maybe it was a year or more at sea
To the icy shores of another planet
Encased in endless days of darkness

The ship became marooned
In frozen oceanic tundra
For many winter nights
We the crew chiseled, shoveled
And pick-axed our way to break free
Of our prison made from solid crystal air

Finally unyielding land ahead
An unmovable iceberg
We dock and unload
Steady our sea legs to skis and sleds
The dogs take off across this untraveled land
Pulling us in tow
Faster against the frigid wind
Than our own frostbitten limbs would allow

Ninety degrees south latitude lies somewhere ahead
Blanketed in fresh snowfall and ice storms
Supplies and moral run low as this weary travel continues on

Shaded in zero visibility we set camp for the night
Harbored against the soulless chill
In a frozen crevice of ice mountain
Our health deteriorated and the dogs drained

Polar sleep sets in
The arctic wind chills us to the bone
And my cold eyes close
Brandon Nov 2014
Your heart beats in your chest

Faster and faster

You can feel your chest about to open up and burst

Yet at the same time

You’re sinking into yourself

Slowly feeling the dark pulling

You catch your breath


Catch it again 

Always barely catching it

You’re hanging on

But every ounce of you wants to give in 

You’re closer now

Your hearts a rapid succession of earthquakes

You’ve sunk deep into your gut

The voices in your head are loud

Their words tearing into you

You’re panicking 

You’re struggling

You remind yourself to breathe

But you don’t listen

You’re too busy

You’re closing down

It’s going to be the end soon

What should you have done

What could you have accomplished

What if…

What about…

It weighs down on you

You’re being crushed

You’re choking for air

You’re grasping for help

You sink into yourself

As your heart tries harder to rip out

This feels like an eternity 

But it’s only been thirty seconds

And then you’re fine

Like nothing ever happened at all

You forget it

Go about whatever it was

That you were doing

**But it doesn’t forget you
Brandon Oct 2011
Muffled voices
Crying babies
Loud adults
Louder kids
Nosy neighbors
Terrible music
Heavy footsteps
Slamming doors
Shoddy construction
Inept maintenance
Cheap appliances

Apartment living
Really *****
to every apartment complex
that i have ever lived in,
to every neighbor
i have ever met,
and to every neighbor
that i have never met
but always heard
Brandon Dec 2020
The slipping
In ash
The being
From nothing
To be born
From fire
We’ll wait forever
Last light
Into darkness
Snuffed out
Into darkness
Brandon Sep 2011
You’re so ******* great
You’re good at everything you do
You can do anything you want
You’re perfect in every way
I wish that everyone was just like you
I wish that I was just like you
lyrics to an old noise track i recorded a long time ago...
Brandon Sep 2011
Help keep the Zombie Apocalypse from getting out of hand
Rip the lower jaw off the deceased before you bury them
[Picture a zombie Uncle Sam pointing at you]
Brandon Sep 2013
You're in my arms with your head on my chest and I couldn't think of any way to spend the morning better.
You're hands trace the lines on the palms of my hands and rub my thigh thru my jeans and our lips taste each other like its the first time.
I can smell you even when I'm not breathing and I'm enveloped in these moments with you never wanting the comfort to end.
We watch ****** dams and pick up trucks blow up.
There's guns, prayer, and squirrel brains on the television and we laugh at redneck antics.
My stomach growls and you know the solution to quiet such a beast.
You fight sleep and I fight it just as hard because our time is almost up and I don't want to miss a second of you.
Lets pretend the clock is just a set of irrelevant numbers and lay here all day and be as irresponsible as teenagers.
Lets forget all these other moments for just a second longer until the clock strikes its over and we're back to being adults.
Brandon May 2012
There is nothing I
love more than the way you greet
me when I'm off work
Brandon Feb 2016
Endless nights spent flipping thru the radio dial to find a station worth listening to and settle the over talking of voices raging against the walls of my thoughts when the threat of silence permeates the thickening air and I'm sickening myself with the withering ashes of three too many cigarettes as the near empty bottle of wine laid hazardlessly on the carpet spilling it's last red drops of merlot taunts me into lighting up another smoke and grow weary of the song playing on the radio to the sound of my inner monologue screaming.
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