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Brandon Nov 2011
You’re as beautiful as words
Written on a piece of paper

Your body snakes like perfect cursive
Flowing a rhythm of intoxication towards me

Your lips speak like a dictionary
Teaching me the meaning of vocabulary

Your eyes shine with verses and history lessons
Like a book of archaic poetry demanding to be read


I want to drown in the words you write
I want to suffocate to the sound of your voice
I want to be constricted beneath your pen



*I want to be seen by you
Brandon Jun 2012
There's blood between us
Choking our throats;
A noose brightens
before eclipsing crosses
Made from ashes
Asphyxiating  
The water rushes
Down my lungs
And I'm drowning

I call out your name
But you won't answer  
I stretch out my hand
But you're not there
I've seen the best and it's over
I'm soil and dirt you harvest
what's left
I know what's there 

The tide came in.
And washed away.
Our names.
In the sand.
The moon howled.
In pain.
Like sulfur.
Like desire. 
It's over.

I can drown in you
Take my last gasp from you
(it's like the forever
we never knew
)
I can drown in your kiss
My final breath thru your kiss
(it's like the forever
we'll miss
)

We shine
Like diamonds
Drowning in water
Crystal eyed transcendence
Asphyxiating on your blood
Brandon Oct 2011
***** me just like the last time in my life  
when my eyes went blind and my words  
suffered like the end to a long story.


wash me away with love
and send me on my way  
but be sure to tell me good day
even tho it's night  
and i'm *
lost
the title says it all...i wrote this in like three minutes so it's utter crap, but whatever...
Brandon Apr 2011
One-sided conversation with a wall
Blood soaked to the skin
Clean up this mess
Contaminated chaos
Padded cell trampoline
Shoot me up
Expose me
Feed me to the sharks
If the voices stop talking
I’ll get the job done right
Redemption blistered forehands from begging
16 inches staked in cavernous rib meat
And I plead innocent
Brandon Sep 2016
I've neglected
This sordid sin
To mourn
My tattered skin

Sunday I seek
A warm place
To fill my lungs
With breath I've sought
To hide a moment

A warm room
To rest
A warm room
To neglect
A warm room
To forget
Brandon Apr 2012
If your poems put
Me to sleep, I won’t listen
To your lame critiques
i'm feeling ornery today

'You're so vain you probably think this poem is about you'
Brandon Oct 2012
Her eyes laid upon my lips with razors in her teeth 
she bites down on my neck with ferocious intent
savoring the taste of what I've given up
                  It's something to bleed for 
       when the boredom becomes too much 

                                   I give in 
                          
                           and I give up 

ravishing the feel of her skin 
                  and the kiss of her cavernous grin...
Grind poetry. Happy Halloween.
Brandon Jul 2016
Sleep wanders without consent
Vilified of contemptuous regret
Placated thru abyssed depravity
Unbeknownst by virtues deplored
The external, eternal mystification
Of burning eyes wide burdened
Brandon Jul 2012
I want to be the baseball bat
you hold so closely at night
to your tight slender body

I envy that baseball bat
when I'm lurking
outside of your bedroom window
watching you sleep

when I'm lurking
outside of your bedroom window
with dangerous intentions on my mind...
Brandon Sep 2014
Forests of snow covered evergreens and chimney smoke
From wooden cabins; we wake to ice on our windows
Crisp fog in our hearts;
Curl up next to me
Light the fire and let it burn bright
You can stay the night if you wish
I'll be here in the morning, I swear I won't go if you say to stay
There's pancakes on the stove
And hot coffee percolating, just waiting to be kissed by your lips
Can you feel the chill in the empty rooms?
Maybe we should keep them company
Even if for a moment longer
Even if it means nothing at all..
Let's not waste this hunger
Learn to celebrate
Learn to hold hands so close
Share our breath as the cold moves in...
We've got places to be, people to meet
But we can pretend
Play songs with our imagination
There's another life far from here
We can avoid, we're not meant to keep taking up space
When the cold moves in
I know what you're thinking
I wish I were thinking it too
Does your body shiver next to mine
I'll hold you tight in my arms
Please hold me back and don't let me stray
I'm a wanderer but my feet are weary and my bones creak with age
Hold me tight all night
And I swear I'll stay if you ask me to
Winter's closing in, the leaves have fallen and littered the ground
Hibernation is the key for these dead months
We'll never leave the bed
Cocoon ourselves instead
The sun will rise, the sun will fall
I'll have you; you'll have me
Thru it all
Wrapped up in
A bear skin rug
Brandon Nov 2014
It only hurts forever*

But over time
The pain becomes
Another part
Of who you are

And you no longer notice it
Brandon Sep 2011
***blebee* buzzing
From flower to my shoulder
Don’t pollinate *me
Brandon Nov 2014
Been working all day long
My hands are soiled
And my mind is gone

Been working all day long
There's dirt beneath my fingernails
As I strum these strings along

Been working all day long
Not a dime to my name
Somehow it all feels wrong

Been working all day long
Fattening another man's pockets
In a job he don't belong

Been working all day long
Busting my knuckles
And singing this work song
Brandon Dec 2012
There's strands of gold in her hair
Withering like cancer
Her smile hides within her eyes
Like galaxies slowly exploding
She swirls her tongue across her teeth
Biting on her bottom lip with seductive intent
She crawls victim to my bed
Begging and pleading
She whispers desire
With ***** accents
Begging and pleading
For me to undress her skin
Brandon Mar 2012
I'll see her soul floating in thin space surrounded by adoring faces
of grotesque amusement. And I'll be there for her, through
the nova to super. A sparkle in the stars of a
goddess that sees all
and accepts the fate that she has chosen, beaming in the orange
afterglow of knowing that you'll continue onward with her through
her journey

An intertwining entanglement twisting spiral of
emotion spoken verse through shreds
of hair overlapping ears enveloped in the mind
of a poet the paper queen and razor king
the light plays a soulful time stretched across harpsichords
of ****** bone she stands amidst the destruction. A beauty of
*******
tainted blood running in rivulets down her thighs. Looking at her vile
nameplate in the mirror. The object of her hatred her own soul.
Betrayed easily by a lovers hand

A lovers love convulsing putrid green from behind her eyes
a demon that's been awakened a last call for a feeling long since
forgotten but longed for breathlessly
yearning to feed on her hardened heart. Cold and barren
from years of other diversions besides blowing her
calming storm over it. A festering wound from whence came
her own destruction.

The bracelets left by a lovers palms greased for enjoyment
a monkeys paw make a wish but be careful
wishing is for lighthearted fools. Only time can
save her now. Stitching together her spine
with rusty wire and dull needles. Hinges that are necessary to
open up the door to the fates that twist her insides. Cotton
truly makes her tick.

Made of straw old and rotten hanging on a cross
a symbol forgotten. Watch the stitches unravel
and conspire into snakes swimming the oceans miles
drowning the last visage of hope. The soft white underbelly of a
faith long ago dubbed "unreliable" who will
save them now?

A circle with Cs on either end a faith an idea the doll
deserted in the corner of a child's room that never came home
with a broken arm and a cracked porcelain face waiting for
someone to wipe off the dust, make her feel wanted again. Shell
wait until the air caves in her delicate mouth. Blowing
holes through a time faded dress. Caressing decaying eyelashes
about to fall away

Caressing the downfall outstretched hands that reach
so far the decay sets in as ****** claw regression
into obsession
yet can never make it to the other side where acceptance
rules the heart and blonde hair fades after so long leaving
the ravished ones old and worn

A tower on a hill, the hair flowing still birth into
the warm womb of a bees nest built for a porcelain doll
long since face has faded to Raggedy Ann china *****
spreading her 1950's Compton pantaloons to the masses
wondering why none of them will invite her into their hybrid
plantations of rioting smiles and half lit eyes that never seem
to stop tearing

Ripping the seems of societies blunders the under stitching that
hides the batteries of a thing not present red hair fade to gray
as times progresses the  lines fade
into a remote inkling of remembrance. The hands that covered
her existence pushing her gently yet leaving painted bruises.
An art exhibit in the making. Pay me for pleasure
I bring but leave my soul to peace

Leave my peace to suffering
This is exhibit A. witness testify to a false maker
of false hopes a dreamers dream disappearing on the lids of
a waking being. So is the theme spoken in rainbow
brilliance the soul is trapped in a toys body break me discard me
no use for this
this is exhibit B. a lifeless rendition of a restless warrior begging
to be freed from his crime in watching his own hands  children
and a pregnant woman willing to sell her soul for redemption.
Break him, discard him but never let him forget

Time elapses travel to the future, Raggedy Andy and the soul
a machine cold and calculating everyone wants one for Christmas
unwrap the gift and sell it tomorrow
wont get much out of it. Devoid of extraneous packaging
it's lost it's worth and the scars are blessed tracing them with my tongue
a willing conspirator in your lie that you live day to day. Praying to whatever
that tomorrow you won't wake up and the pain will stop. Should have never
bequeathed my soul then because now I'll never let you go

The welcomed touch of another to soothe the decay build a house of
legos galore a horror left untold but whispered in empty space someday
it will reach the ears all will be out of place the blessing of scars and the blessing
of tides. Wash the dreams into reality
yet with your eyes squeezed shut you cannot see the smiles
I flash you from across the room. Another cold winter with plastic walls,
the floor rough beneath my paper thin feet. I am getting older and your passion
still falls to ripping me open and seeing what color I am today. Your
dream is my hell. A reality we all want but some never have a blessing
of the tides for you but not the patchwork of needle veins left on my
heart

A ragdoll sows well after unthreading unraveled secrets that are being
spoken a hidden meaning in things known so well and held
so dear the addict is addicted the silver polish of another exit
and a feared exit (exist)
picking away at the surface he is relieved to see his own
reflection on fates tinderbox. Matches with his name on them and other
wealth's of knowledge he cannot comprehend. I take in his
apathy and replace him whole.

Existence is superficial floating ecstasy through a ravers midnight
meltdown the drugs that soothed soon are smoothed out of the system
a gentle touch the softest if skin paper thin paper thin
licking the edges and listening fast, a deep puff, euphorium. Wanting to
play tonight the caterpillar sees, puffing his own blue smoke fast.
bloodshot eyes hide the daylight from your stolen afternoon. The headboard begs
for some grease, let's at today, my love, let's break me again

The twins of wonderland and the cat disappearing a story
forever after faintly breathing from the lips of the souls
sought wondering
sharing a shotgun with a confidant the after taste sour and strained. Not
enough we all see into your twisted head. Plucking on my heart strings
too rough. Wanting to see me bleed. Not this time the queen of hearts will
soon beat you with a flamingo and send you flapping
through the hourglass a king of king and clams

A nursery rhyme for all children to sleep a child's toy finally
dies leaving behind soiled memories
a VERY OLD poem written long ago with Brook Ilges (Italicized.) this was a night long poetry rant. it falls into the "good for what it is" kinda category. It has no structure, no reason, no rhyme. Just hyped up teens spitting words to each other.
Brandon Apr 2012
From the cultured hood of Beverly Hills
Young rich white kid rapping
Blonde hair perfectly combed and trimmed
Blue eyes shaded from California sun

Spitting ghetto slang about unfair pain,
Affirmative action, cultural injustices
Daddy’s allowance, racial profiling

****[le] mobile and spinning rims
Gold plated teeth over pearly whites
Slinging 401k’s and time shares

Baggy pants sagging down past his ***
Tugging at his crotch
His hand permanently attached
To his little white flaccid ****

Trying to keep from tripping
While he’s running from the police

Wanted for questioning
On insider trading
And insurance scams
inspired by an aryan type kid rapping on the apollo stage.
oddly enough he got booed off.
Brandon Jun 2014
"They're ******. All of them." Bill said. Pounding his right fist on the bar top before sloppily grabbing his tumbler of whiskey, spilling small but significant amounts onto the wooden top, and bringing it to his lips and gulping it down in one swallow.

"More." He shouted at the old man behind the bar who begrudgingly obliged and poured another four fingers width into the glass.

Bill pulled another fifty out of the pocket of his ***** white button-up and slid it onto the bar top where it rested momentarily in the droplets of whiskey before the bartender picked it up and placed it in the register next to the other four fifty dollar bills that the man had already spent. Though the drinks were only twenty a piece Bill made no move for change so the bartender ignored his growing belligerence and continued to pour.

"They can't all be ******."
The man sitting next to Bill piped in.

"Yes they can." Bill ranted back. "Every last ******* one of them. They speak in lies and loose words. Turn everything around so they're the victim. **** em. ******. All of em." Bill downed his drinks but before he could shout for another the bartender was already pouring a drink for him.

Bill laid down another fifty and drank some from the tumbler.

"Maybe it's the ones you meet." Bill's neighboring barmate pitched in again attempting to offer some wisdom.

"I've met them all. I've worked with them all. I've ****** and been ****** by them all. They all want an Apple but ignore the tree the Apple grew from. Always in some sort of silly competition." Bill answered back.

He finished off his drink but asked the bartender for a soda water instead of another whiskey. The bartender filled another tumbler up from the spray nozzle and put it in front of Bill and said no charge.

Bill laid a fifty on the counter. "From all the ******" he said.

He stood up barely able to stand until he balanced himself by using the stool and once he gathered himself he walked towards the back of the room where the restrooms were.

Bill stumbled in and rested himself at the sink taking a look at the reflection in the mirror. His wire-rimmed glasses were smudged and hung slanted on his lean dorky face and his short cropped hair was a mess. It had been a few days since he last shaved and the admiration of a five o'clock shadow had began to make an appearance on his cheeks and upper lip. The suit he had been wearing looked like it had been through a war itself, all tattered and torn and crusted with stains.

He removed his glasses and attempted to clean them in the sink before drying them off with the untucked tail of his shirt. He put them on. It wasn't much better. Next he straightened out his hair the best he could, struggling to keep his much despised cowlick in place.

He unzipped his pants and pulled his **** out and went about relieving himself in the sink all the while staring at himself in the mirror. When he was done he shook twice before putting it away and zipping back up.

Bill went to wash his hands but looked at the sink and realized it had been clogged and now laid full of his *****. He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the bathroom.

His soda water was still on the counter and he started to drink it as the bar's front door opened allowing fresh sunlight to assault it's way in. A tall model-beautiful girl stood in the doorway wearing a suit that showed as much skin as possible. She scanned the room until her eyes laid at the disheveled Bill at the bar.

"Mr Gates" she announced, "the car is ready if you'd like to leave sir."

Bill ordered a whiskey with soda and left another fifty on the bar. His barmate said he understood now why Bill had said they're all ****** after seeing how the woman at the door was dressed. He was laughing as if he had made some grand joke.

Bill stood up off of his stool, knocked back his whiskey and soda, straightened his glasses once more, and threw a strong right hook towards the other man, sending him flying off of his bar stool and on to the hardwood floor. He laid sprawled out, conscious but not moving.

Bill shook his fist. It had been a long time since he had hit anyway.

He walked over to the downed man and told him to never disrespect a woman again.

"But you called them all ******." He replied.

"No you little ignorant man, I was calling everyone in the world of business a *****. There is no loyalty and the only thing that matters is profit."

Bill helped the man back up off the floor and back onto his stool. He laid out a hundred dollar bill on the counter and told the bartender that whatever the man wanted to make sure he got it. Mr Gates straightened himself up again and walked towards the door and after looking around the dingy barroom one last time walked out into the sunlight where a limo was awaiting him.
Brandon Dec 2015
Yesterday I watched the world get torn away
Clenched my fists until I bled
Closed my eyes and a laugh escaped
I think I'm going crazy
But that's to be expected
Whatever happened to my happiness
Tied it off into a tourniquet
Didn't mind, I was made to forget
What's usefulness used for
If its utilized uselessly?

I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind
I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind


Tomorrow I'll see the reflection of my past
Can't count the days
But I'll watch them slowly degradet
It's all in asking the questions
Maybe the answers will spill out
When I'm not paying attention
What's usefulness used for
If its utilized uselessly?

I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind
I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind


Today came and went
Couldn't tell you a **** thing about it
I cleansed the dirt beneath my fingers
And pealed my skin away
What's usefulness used for
If its utilized uselessly?

I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind
I
Have left behind
All
The things that bind


(Today)
I have
(Tomorrow)
Left behind
(Yesterday)
All the things

That bind
Brandon Apr 2011
Splinter my tongue
Inspired by serpents
Cutting teeth on wicked prayers
Sharpened on limestone caskets
I try too hard to deceive
Where and when will it all end
Diamonds, roses, words
These things are promised
Homes, spirits, and bones
These things are broken
Broken
I've been here all along
Laying roses on your grave
Roses on your grave
We die too quickly
This telethon is over
Fireworks in the clear blue sky
Fireworks in the clear blue sky
Fireworks in the clear blue sky
Brandon Mar 2012
I saw five blackbirds perched on a telephone wire at six am
They were black as the blackest of nights and as big as Caterpillars
They were looking down on cars taped over with blowing plastic bags
Floating in the hot pink wind like tornadoes made from lipstick
Their talons were long daggers looking to pierce the deepest part of my heart
To open my eyes with their meandering meaningful meaningless
They had shipwrecks adorning each obsidian feather and crooked teeth
Capped the nightmares that lurked behind the glare of their eyes
They watched solemnly at the scene below of closing doors
Of rustling papers and stained tears tarring the summer ground
They had secrets cawed in a language of screeched whispers
Warning and educating ears that were too deaf or too self involved to listen
We’ve got no chance to escape this drudgery of modernity
We’re stuck in this self-built prison of black and white prisms
Of three dimensional reasoning and the attitude that follows
Never meant to be but it’s what it is when we think we’re free
How can the one blind bird perceive things differently
If our shortsighted near-death experiences have left us numb
Numbing us to the presence of the stars in the morning sky
Or the Sun exploding torrents of fire during the night
Wrapping us in a chilly warmth like blankets soaked with gasoline
We've left ourselves to wander the desolate land thinking of the obscene


I saw five blackbirds blacking out the sun as they took to the sky
Laughing their murderous laugh at the awkward bipeds down below
Brandon Apr 2016
Take everyday like it will be your last
But live so that you'll see tomorrow
And all the days after

Don't live a life drowning in a past
Where memories are only comforting
Until they twist and turn to sorrow

Learn a skill or craft to better your understanding
Of what brings us all together
And offer it to others in need
Without losing the advantages you bring

Find the worth of your own life
Before you seek your worth in another

Want the world at your fingertips
But remember the simple things in life
Bring the most joy

          Enjoy the sun shining down
                       On your skin
     And feel the moon kiss you at night
                    Dance in the rain
            And move with the wind
          Plant your roots in the earth
        But never settle where you are

Reap the rewards and benefits
Of living your life
In the *grey
Brandon Sep 2011
I just want to write

I try to listen to music for inspiration
Nothing, it’s silent here

I stumble across photos for inspiration
Some photo I can’t put to words

I open a book and read others words for inspiration
A melody of vocabulary that’s lost on me

I scratch the recesses of my mind
Trying to find some worthy words to scribble down

The only thing that I can see
Is a long line of ‘Z’s’

In front of me
Brandon Jul 2014
Fireworks go off.
Boom. Bang.  Fizzle.

I'm inside reading a book.
Some drunk writer rambling about work.
I hear the oohs and the ahhs of civility outside these four walls
and I look at the bottle of scotch nearest me and grab it.
It goes down and warms my stomach.
I stand up,
walk to the window,
move the curtains out of the way,
and watch outside.
I see people
and their families
standing on front porches,
chaired up in their driveways,
some ***** standing in the streets.
All have their gazes pointed to the sky.
I look.
I wait.

Boom.
Bang.

Fizzle.

Blasts of color and noise
then the dark grey smoke
staining the night sky.
I take another drink from the bottle.
I sit down.
Close my eyes.
I see fireworks
exploding in the sky.
Brandon Apr 2011
Suffocate the broken fingers wrapped around umbilical chords
Engorged in egotistical monstrosity of deliverance
Wisdom of deformation in ribcage abortion
Captivity shackled to ***** out the nocturnal twilight of distinguished dawn
Scraped nails across the back of ****** proficiency
Scraped nails found in the brickwork
Fracture the amputated for authentication
Trust no one but the deceased
Brandon Jun 2014
Shed your skin
You've got another
Lie you've been caught
Living in

Breathe deep
And hold your
Breath

Choke on the words
Still lingering
In your throat


Withdrawal
From the tremors
Quivering in your
Insides

Piece together
The whispers
We utter with
Solemn virtues

{I've waited too long
For this
I've waited too long
For this}

Breathe deep
And hold your
Breath

Choke on the words
Still lingering
In your throat


{A riot
A sacrifice
A crooked life}

Breathe deep
And hold your
Breath

*Choke on the words
Still lingering
On your lips
Brandon Jan 2014
Some people say

That you need to be fixed

But I like it 

Just the way you are

When you fall apart

My broken girl 

With a broken heart

You’re just as beautiful

In your ache

As when you pretend

To not be awake

When we’re in our bed

Wrapped in sheets so tight

And my arm drifts

Over you to pull you closer

And I whisper words

You long to hear 

And words I’ve longed to say

You’ll always be my favorite heartache

My perfectly broken girl

With a broken heart
Chorus to a song I'm working on...
Brandon Jul 2014
There's
           so
     much
                       *****
        in
    my
                 mouth
right
     now.
Brandon Dec 2011
*******.
bull
****.
bu
ll
sh
it.
b
u
l
l
s
h
i
t
.
Brandon Mar 2012
Propaganda and hype
Litter the roadway
Engulfed in burning flames
And chainsaw serenades

Jesus saves

So sit back and enjoy
A cool, crisp, refreshing 7Up

Before your time is up

The best advertisement
A billboard can advertise
Is written in smoldering ashes
Brandon Apr 2012
Sitting at the bus stop bench
Making odd faces to the rain

Watching for a bus that never comes
Distracted by the city light and noise

Wood rot, cement legs, poor paint job
Advertisement ghosts peeling and flaking away

Stranded here on a forgotten bus stop bench
Waiting for a bus that never comes
Brandon Oct 2011
flutter by butterfly
whisking by on air sublime
orange and black monarch of sky
butterfly fluttering bye

Where do you fly to in such a hurry?
Where do you go that you can't rest your weary wings?


off into the skies
the butterfly did fly
waving monarch wings
good-bye
Brandon Aug 2013
Can't focus

Mind obliterated

Sitting on rooftops
Paved over with tar

We're highways
Never reaching the sun
Always reaching for the stars

Tasting the taste
Of better promised days

Stitch our shadows to our feet
In the right light
We can stand taller

At dark we all cower
In cardboard boxes
We've made forts out of
Broken sidewalk chalk
And cracked pavement

We've slept in clouds
And woke when we hit the ground

Machines hum all day long
Singing electronic songs
And we sing along

*Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Brandon Jan 2014
Bring your own ****. I
have plenty of alcohol.
Lets start this party.
Brandon Jun 2014
We are all caged

To desires,
                   to jobs,
                               to people,
                   to places and things,
        To the question of whether or not we are living
        To the question of whether or not we are ready to die
                                 There's gaps in the bars where we can see outside

But there is no true escape

Roads are tubes to other parts of the same cage
Forests are nice decorations where we throw all night parties and destroy
The ocean flows and sways
Polluted by a billion people rattling the cage

                  There is no escape

We are all caged
Brandon Sep 2014
Jacob awoke early in the morning on Sunday and stretched out his limbs beneath the flannel sheets on his bed before carelessly tossing them to the side and off of his body. Jacob sat up and half yawned before catching a whiff of his own morning breath and cracked a slight smile and smacked his lips together in disgust. He stood up and after adjusting himself walked down the stairs to his kitchen where a *** of coffee was already brewing having been programmed to do the night before. When the coffee was done percolating, he poured himself a cup in a mug that a student who had graduated years ago had given to him for his help with her English Lit thesis. Jacob drank his coffee black and could not understand why anyone would ruin the taste by mixing it with sugars and cream. But again he thought that of he were truthful he didnt understand much about people at all anymore anyway. He was out of touch with the outside world after his wife had passed away a little less than a year ago. She always kept him up to date with current events and trends, always made sure to keep him social. And without her around he had become a hermit only leaving the house to occasionally show up for work or go on hunting or fishing trips alone.

Always alone.

Today Jacob decided that he would spend the better half of the morning catching up on the world around him as he walked to his front door and opened it wide letting a bright vast amount of sunshine in nearly blinding him before his eyes adjusted. On his front porch was a stack of newspapers from everyday for the past three weeks. Jacob took the top five off of the stack and went back inside to his kitchen table and sat down after making a second cup of coffee, this time adding a splash of Kentucky bourbon. He unfolded the top section of the first newspaper and skimmed the headlines trying to catch something that would hold his attention. There was war, casualties, politics; none of which he felt like stomaching on this early morning.

He flipped to the comics and scanned the panels, laughing a silent chuckle at Garfield and a few others but folded the paper back up in disgust and tossed it towards the pile of other papers when nothing caught his attention longer than a couple of seconds.

Jacob sipped his coffee and stared into the dark black liquid until he saw his reflection staring back at him. He was disheveled, could use a shave and a haircut. His eyes, always the brightest blue, now looked dull grey, bloodshot, and sunken slightly into his forehead causing his eyebrows to become a prominent feature on his face. He wondered when the last time he had seen himself was but could not recall. He stared at the reflection and did not recognize the man staring back at him so he started to talk to him like a lost friend that he had not seen since the early stages of childhood.

Jacob caught up with the black coffee version of himself, handling both sides of the conversation in slightly different voices discussing his life story since they had last parted. How he met his future wife early in high school and how they could not stand each other initially, went to college on a football scholarship but fell in love with the English department and academia as a whole, how his girlfriend became his fiancé when he proposed to her while on vacation in upper Vermont, how they were married on a sandy beach in Hawaii hours before a hurricane came and the island was evacuated. He told his reflection about his three children - two boys and a girl - and how they had grown up, how he had finally got tenure at his alma mater, how his wife had succumbed to the cancer that had plagued her for the last few years of her life...he stopped at this part of the conversation and stared once again at the coffee and past his reflection. The coffee rippled from a tear that had been welling up in his left eye before slowly falling down his cheek into the coffee. Jacob stood up with the cup in his hand and emptied it out in the sink.

He rested his hands along the linoleum countertops and peered out the kitchen window, watching the breeze make the small birch tree branches sway and dance gracefully. He thought to call his children and see how they were doing but remembered that it was still too early in the morning in their part of the country. The sun was now shining in the backyard and if he looked hard enough he could see birds landing in his grass to eat worms and insects before flying back off to where they came or to where they were going. Jacob wished silently that he could be a bird and just fly away.

"There's no sense in all this dwelling," he heard a voice say from out of nowhere. For a moment he stood very still and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up before he realized the voice was his own. He did not know he had spoken but knew that it had been said and tho he did not quite feel it, he knew it too be true as well. Jacob let a heavy sigh leave his body and felt a change come over him that started in his outer limbs before spreading inward. He felt a renewal of energy cling to his life.

Jacob went back upstairs to the bathroom and once again studied his face in the mirror. His beard was salt and pepper and he decided it looked rather good on him but needed a trim. He removed the beard trimmer from one of the cabinets and put on a number three guard, trimmed the hair, then replaced the guard with a number two and trimmed again. He looked at the beard and admired the length, color, and thickness and decided that it was how he wanted it.

Next he looked at his hair and tho he needed a haircut he decided to just brush it back and to the side holding the unruly pieces back with a small amount of pomade.

Jacob's grey eyes began to lighten to a sky blue.

He walked to his room and found the cleanest clothes he could find: a pair of blue jeans, fitted black tshirt, and a dark blue button down blazer. He addressed himself in the mirror hanging on the door after dressing and thought to himself that he looked quite respectable and felt very much like a gentleman.

Jacob looked at the photo of his wife on the dresser and smiled at the memories that he cherished deeply of her and his hand drifted towards it and his fingers gently traced the outline of her cheek. He smiled again when he felt the tear roll down his cheek and he knew that he was okay and that everything was okay. It was the most alive he had felt in months.
Dedicated in part to B.
Brandon Apr 2011
All I need is a ******* moment
Let me take one last breath
Fingers collapsed on my lungs like a noose
I can hear the echoes of silent screams
Casually parading in the depths of thought
Casually parading in the midst of gunfire
Hanging on by a string on the edge of a cliff
I call out for help
And see your smiling frown
Doomed to forever sway in the sycamore trees
I just want to be left alone
What's said
It's all been said before
Brandon Jun 2014
Catherine stood over the bar counter and pored herself a glass of absinthe. She placed the special spoon over the top of the glass and put a sugar cube over it and proceeded to pore slowly the water over the the sugar and into the glass of real Pernod. She watched as the drink turned its green tinted color and she could feel her insides hunger for the wormwood drink.

She loved the preparation of such a cocktail and if she were truthful it is one of the reasons that it was her go to drink. Another equally important reason it was her drink was because it awakened the creativity in her and inspired her work. Catherine was working on her fifth novel and had come to an impasse and could not write her way around nor through her dilemma and she sought hell from the Green Fairy for a little inspiration.

She took the drink to her lips and savored the anise flavored liquor as it rolled across her tongue. She closed her eyes and held on to the affects of it, seeing the edges of her vision go an opaquely luminescent green. She walked over to her desk and dipped her quill into the jar of squid ink and began to write on the parchment, letting the absinthe take her writing on the journey it needed to finish the story.
Brandon Jun 2014
You touch
Deep spots

Hiding
With claws

Too much

Enough

I've known
Desire
Before
Your mouth

Fingers
Caress

Your lips
Linger

Broken

Beating

Uneven


Alone
Brandon Jul 2017
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 Dec 2019
I tire of playing this human game
And it’s rules that change on a whim,
It’s cataclysm of ego run rampant
And woefully harmful mentalities.

Return me to ethereal stardust
Where I no longer have to play
Brandon Oct 2011
I sit at the booth,
Thinking to myself,
**** restaurants that don’t have a television
Making me listen to insipid conversations
The kind that only in-laws seem to be able to speak

The fumbling and stumbling over topics and
Phrases repeated without any real meaning
Thought or understanding

I stare off into space and nurse my whiskey
But even it won’t fully drown out
Their side effects

“I’ll have the cheesecake,”
I hear one of them say

“Burger extra rare,”
The other hurriedly offers up to our waiter,

Our waiter
Fresh out of high school
Oozing pimples down the pores of his ***-marked face
Uniform stretched taut against his bulging stomach
Exposing crater like outline of his belly button

I wish that I could be the waiter
I envy the waiter
He gets to walk away from this table
And away from a flowing sea
Of faltering words

Someone’s talking to me
Asking if I’m keeping up on the OSU football drama

But I don’t hear them,
I’m too busy studying the Egyptian architecture
And wondering what it has to do
With the Cheesecake Factory

My wife kicks me
Bringing me back into this dreary reality
Telling me to answer the question

“No, I haven’t,” I say
As they began awkwardly telling me about it

I signal our waiter and ask for another whiskey

It’s going to be a long dinner tonight
Brandon May 2014
Lets take a swim
                          in the ocean

          Chill amongst the
                    waves

Let the tides                   carry us
We can get     swept     away

    Pulled into the
                                  deep
We will find our    
                                  sleep

             Down
                        Down
                                   Down


   We will                drown
Until we reach
                          the depth
  
             Of the ocean's mysteries
Brandon May 2014
Watching the clouds go by

I feel like its my life


Moving, ever changing



Slowly passing me by
Brandon Sep 2011
I just had a religious experience
Everything that was everything decorated the skies
                   Life in all its glory and purpose
                         The sun shown in all too brilliant rays cascading sheets of pure light
Upon the animals, the faces, the millions of faces
         The earth
              Covered with mountains, canyons,
                            Gulfs streaming with storms
Oceans of life littering the spaces
            Between wolves howling and grizzlies catching salmon
                          Leaping from fast flowing rivers
                                       The trees and forests grow to such great heights
It’s beautiful
    Too beautiful for my vocabulary
          Lexis fail to describe in detail the pure extravagance of it all
                  The sun changed the hues of vast Eden
                        Spits of negatives and diluted colors
                                Welcoming all as one
                                   Tired eyes from beauty’s light
                                           Counterparts
                                                    ­             The dark so dark that it was hard to focus on
                                                              ­         Moving slowly like a monolithic sludge
Engulfing the light
                 Slowly
                            Till all was dark
                                 Till all was dark
And good and evil existed as one
Brandon May 2014
I can feel your broken heart
It's beating
Come a little closer to me
I'll hold you tightly
I'll wipe away your tears
And kiss away your fears
Come a little closer to me
I will help to heal your heart
I wrote this a couple months ago. I think I wanted to do more with it. But the moment has passed.
Brandon Oct 2011
I sit at my computer
Typing words
To the softest
Almost silent click clack
Of keyboard beneath
My finger strokes
I yearn for an old school

DING – new line!

Typewriter
The loud
PUNCH
Of the keys
As rhythm, rhyme
Flows from my mind
To the coiled sheet
Of

DING – new line!

Paper
Hitting the keys
With effortless flow
Sometimes I reach for
A notebook
With all its lines
And structure
I quickly grab a

DING – new line!

Pen
Full of India ink
To have the ink flow
In one ongoing script
Of verses that

DING – new line!

Hurt
But then I give up
Because my hand
Simply cannot write
As much as my mind

DING – new line!

Pours
Rhythm and woes
And this typewriter
Always running out of

DING – new line!

Space
Has become very maddening
With the rewind
So I quickly switch back to my

DING – new line!

Computer
And continue writing
with out the stop of

*DING - new line!
Brandon Apr 2011
Emblematic of the all American middle class boyhood
Cleanse these filthy blood-spattered hands
Modifying dreams into death
A clown can get away with ******
Spreading smiles on the faces of children
Bodies in the crawlspace
A letter everyday
Just to taunt you
You’ll never catch me
About serial killers...
Brandon Sep 2014
Pluck the leaves off autumn trees
Float them down the river
Watch the currents carry their dance
Fall a few steps out of time
Feel the cool air shiver
You'll never have another chance

Oh if you live this life
At a constant speed
You'll miss all the sights
You were intended to see

Run your toes thru the morning dew
Whistle a tune with the morning birds
Chase the taste of sunshine on your skin
Get lost in yourself and become you again

Oh if you live this life
At a constant speed
You'll miss all the sights
You were intended to see

Fill your lungs with bonfire breeze
Realize you have all you need
A few cold brews
And friends to keep you company

Oh if you live this life
At a constant speed
You'll miss all the sights
You were intended to see

Sing along with the wolves
Howling at the moon
It will all be gone all too soon
Stare into the night
You're never far from a star
As long as you are
Who you are

Time is a construct of our mind
But too fast it passes us by
It seems we're only born to die
Laying memories on graves
We weren't ready to say goodbye

So don't live this life
At a constant speed
You'll miss all the sights
You were made to see

Oh if you live this life
At a constant speed
You'll miss all the sights
You were intended to see
Brandon Jul 2013
Conflated the scriven entangled
Stygian Ink burns moonlight scribes
Death casket nymphotic neurotoxin
Flesh bites tender spots bruised
Inhale emerald fire shotgun lungs
Blacklight succubus consume
Brandon Apr 2011
Innocence dripped from her satin tongue
Old conversations that took place
All night long until the silent cry of dawn
She spoke to me like she’s never spoken
My ears listened until they were deaf
And I could no longer hear
The beauty spewing from her mangled mouth
I ran my fingers through her hair
Caressing every tangled knot
Undying love in its perfection
Is reasoning for the world to exist
In all its shattered enlightenment
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