"brody" poems
Dave took his little boy for a stroll. Hand in hand, they went, as-three-year old Brody loved walking with his daddy. The spring weather was finally here, and green color was starting to return back to the landscape. Brody stopped and pointed up in the air, and shouted, "Daddy, look! Birds running in the sky!"
A flock of birds flew on by, fleetingly, and Dave smiled down at his son beaming up at him. Oh, that little-man-in-the making! It was like father, like son! Dave used to say such things when he was his age, yet he never heard it put that way before. Birds running in the sky--wonder what the birds thought of the ant-men down below? He exclaimed to his son, "Those critters have feathered wings, and they can travel like airplanes! And they can also relax a while and soar through the sky like they were floating on air! Like balloons!" Dave put his hands out like he was an airplane and Brody followed his lead.
"I want to fly!" Brody declared, running around in circles with his outstretched arms.
"Me, too!" echoed Dave. He knelt down on one leg and pulled his boy next to him and pointed to the sky. "When I was a kid I thought those clouds were made of marshmallows. My dad used to say to me, 'Let's go outside and play catch under the marshmallow roof'". The cottony, white clouds were billowy, three-dimensional puffs of fluff, stuffed up in various patches as if to decorate the big, blue sky.
Brody gave his father a big boy squeeze, a precious moment, indeed. Dave never wanted to lose that imagination that he could share with his son, and his son could share with him. They both continued on, making their way under the marshmallow sky.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 3:08 PM UTC
He’s only just sat down
in the cafe when she enters
and stands at the counter
waiting to be served. He lets
his latte settle. Allows his
eyes to scrutinize. The waitress
serves the woman in the white
hat and black dress. He notes
her fine figure, the low cut at
the neck, the thin straps over
shoulders. He tries to breathe
in from where he sits her perfume,
but it doesn’t come. The woman
orders an espresso and says it
with an Italian accent. He follows
her with his eyes as she walks
to a table alone. She looks like a
girl Modigliani would have painted.
She looks at her watch and then
around the room of the cafe.
She crosses her legs, one over
the other, thigh revealed. He sips
his latte. Wipes his lips with the
back of his hand. Bad habit, mother
would have slapped his hand as a
child once. The waitress delivers
the woman’s coffee; he notes the
waitress’s fine behind, the hands
serving, the legs touching together.
Then she's gone. Just the woman
in the white hat to study. The way
she lifts the small white cup to her
mouth, her fingers holding delicately,
as if afraid to break. Get a life Brody
would say if he were there. But he’s not;
he’s away with that girl from the office,
having a lay. The woman in the hat
stares at him, her eyes devour, her lips
part like legs before *** She looks boringly
away. He sips more latte. He doesn’t like
her white hat or black dress anyway.
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 10:59 AM UTC
Figure a trigger
pictured fingers
scratch the brain
pick it **** exposed;
********** minds only craving one more dime.
Insane
vein blade
neck noose
she drinks some to feel loose.
creeping
convulsions
chills christen me a martyr
King of the opiophiles
Christ of the smackheads
Conquering coconaut
Hero to heroinites
Majesty of the methodonians
Glitches in systems revolving
rebel against or kiss them
Ring the bell to bring out the MOB and roll your future to face the dice
who are they ask for advice?
You draw towards these demons while behind you attempt to bask
a mask
Cody raises a flask of poison resentful regrets
Brody the roadie is always on the move
that ****** basement edm dub scene sure did become crass
which only leaves you, alone to groove
and we drink my flask our flask and bask in romance and death
Sorry Sir that you asked…but wait I have one more thought before the session reaches the inevitable conclusive aspect. Listen to my
Unexplained Law
Of
Academic actualizations
Basic casualization
Capital causes compound connections only resulting in casualty
I am orbiting you
Blazing comet
A simple sultry satellite
cold convoluted
Sad
at my farthest reaching far flung Aphelion
Warming and safe at my closest approach to You
Blazing life bringer
Holy holy holy art thou oh Eye of all
Allow me to forever remain at Perihelion
The laws of Keplar could not keep us from colliding
in the end
fire
will be all dividing
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
Brody's mother
was quite the dame
she had this way
of inviting you in
after school
and offering things
to eat and drink
and hey boys
she said
why not try out
the outside pool?
Brody said
OK
and so you followed him
but what do I wear?
you asked
O nothing
he said
no need
it's only us
and well
the neighbours
can't see ****
and so you went
with him to his room
and undressed
and he gave you
a big white towel
and you went
downstairs with him
to the outside pool
his mother was there
and said
how about a drink of pop?
sure
Brody said
and you nodded
holding tight
to the towel
and off she went
in her red
two piece swimsuit
her **** quite neat
in the sack
of the suit
come on in John
Brody said
don't be shy
and so you dropped
the towel
and climbed in
the pool
and the water
was warm
and came up
to your chest
he swam around
but you just stood there
with arms folded
over your chest
after few moments
his mother came out
with a tray of pop drinks
in glasses with straws
gosh John
she said
looking at you
you sure are white
do you hide your body
from the sun?
Brody laughed
guess so
you said
she smiled then put
the tray on a small
white table
by the pool
and climbed in
the pool
her top piece floating
like pink piggies
you looked
then looked away
she talked
of Brody's father
how he liked to
just lounge
on the water
like a lily
Brody guffawed
some lily
he said
his mother smiled
as she looked at you
her eyes blue liquidy
as if they were
of water
she swam towards you
you afraid of the water John?
can't swim
you said
can't you
she said sexily
Brody you never said
John couldn't swim
didn't know
he said
swimming off
to the other end
of the pool
I’ll have to
show you how
she whispered
would you like me
to show you how?
she came nearer
her piggies seemed
pleased to see you
it's all a matter
of confidence
she said
trust in yourself
and the water
you looked at her
liquidy eyes
she put her arms
under the water
and held you
lift your feet
off the bottom
of the pool
she said
you tried but your feet
wouldn't move
here
she said
and she uprooted you
and you fell
into the water
and splashed
and flapped your arms
like a drowning bird
she held you tight
and said
relax your body
in my arms
you stiffened
then slowly relaxed
in her arms
holding you
to her
the piggies brushing
against you
her breath applely
and perfumery
right
she said
slowly flap
your legs
in the water
and move the water
with your hands
and arms
and so you did
slow but with a kind
of nervous pleasure
feeling her there
her hands and arms
holding you
and Brody up
the other end
flat on his back
looking at the sky
like some thin lily
as you lounged
with his mother
and her piggies near
getting to trust
the water
and the new acquired
skill she'd shown
and you wished Brody
was gone
and you had her
to yourself
all alone.
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 4:14 PM UTC
Buddy you are moving way too fast
Its a happy New Years Eve
But Sometimes the grass is greener, the wine is sweeter, on the other side of the hill.
Turn your socks inside out like a Brody
Its time to find Jack Straw...
The secret to a Wild Man's heart
Is to Bribe him with your food.
I learned what Paul Simon meant when he said he blew that room away
I learned what J.D. Salinger lied when he said he would do it anyway
Bruce Springsteen said to Terry Gross every Rock'N'Roll song means one thing:
"Pull your pants down."
Huh!
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
Starbucks Despair responds to tomorrow in Geneva,
brilliant shiny knife Sunday School Prayer Prayer Greedy;
satellite satellite graveyard
and the product quickly asks Nirrin;
Broadbent mental prayer in the sky.
Forgetting school coffee, changed
the way to change the true life. Love is a lover's lesson in water,
but the nature of the vision is to find a leap
for my beloved son. Parents work for their parents. I think he's happy. They're enemies, I've heard complaints.
Australia; 4 Many trading lawyers respond
to changes in the economy.
Queriet and evil makers want to change the threat of another city in the 3-dialogue. Mother is dead.
Encourage child-women. Starbucks meets in Geneva
in the morning on weekends
and asks three cyclone animated;
v-turn, aha! Saturday apogee a sleeveless
satellite primary variation of Nirrin
Yinkudate General Brody,
ending with the first sentence after numerical demolish ta,
legal study Nebula. An additional exhibition,
which changes nasljaddiki, and there is everywhere in life,
is well-timed and solid morning. Instructions from Süstradanie Lyubov, edinstvenoto Yamata appointed by Skupo; do not get visitation y: it helps older parents to ask their parents.
I will go to the national newspaper struggle, and hear a sharp voice. Volcanic bricks and drug trafficking,
Australia, triggers 4 red-red triggers, with Konica kerit compliance, claiming that the three-dimensional bacterial
infringement infringement is called malware and piano line.
Graduate or slŭnchevo Pless goyim
have to change the appearance of our city is not visible.
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 10:14 PM UTC
Loose coins sing like cheap nickel-plated wind chimes
in the side compartment as she slams
the car door behind her.
For half a second, I consider getting out after her--
following, so she can give me those petulant puppy dog pupils
she's perfected through persistant practice.
A better plan: I make a face at her back reminiscent of
three "na's" and a pair of "boo's."
As if somehow cosmically aware I've just hit my daily quota of immaturity,
she speaks.
"You know, I just find it funny h--"
but I'm already in reverse.
***
What is it about driving with nothing but stars and trees as companions
that makes a night cruise so much more thought provoking?
Could it be because I can finally hear myself think?
No. I always think out loud anyway.
Maybe it's because they actually seem to listen?
**** you are way too high right now, my guy.*"
"Nah, I'm good, brody."
Okay. I don't even listen to myself;
why would nature be any different?
But there's something.
Picking up speed,
back pushing against the seat,
feeling every imperfection in the road through the chassis--
eyes peeled for parked patrol boys.
Making turns onto streets I have no business on.
If she were here, she'd be giving me one of her looks
instead of standing with her head out the moonroof
as I would if I were passenger with someone driving this fast
in unfamiliar territory.
If she were here, she'd give me **** about the wind tangling her hair
like I won't use it as an excuse to run my fingers through it later.
If she were here, she'd give me **** about my music being
too loud in this minivan heavy neighborhood
like I won't use it as an example why we shouldn't be mad at kids
who do it to us twenty years from now once we've settled down.
If she were here, she'd be a voice of reason.
For whatever reason
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
I have four friends:
Sam
He’s always in a good mood
He excludes the thought of something or someone knocking him down
He is always optimistic
And he just can’t stop smiling about the things that make me “happy.”
Alice
She has Sam’s back
She wakes him out of complacency before something or something hurts him
She’s his forceful conscience
She looks out for him, for as much as it is allowed
Brody
He’s always in despair by the hurtful truth, or the insecurities that he is too weak to brush off
Brody is broken because he doesn’t know how to handle the worse that has happened
He stays in bed for the whole day and night
He has these scars on his arms and bags under his eyes
Rebecca
She works as hard as he can to bring Brody back up
She is closely related to Alice because she also takes care of Sam after he actually gets hurt
She repeats optimistic songs, movies, and quotes
She looks in every direction and dimension to help Sam and Brody.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
Grey eyes
You captivated me from the moment I first saw you
Keyboard Kafe. Cheesecake and Bourbon
Too young to drink without your fake ID
I loved your youth
Skinny jeans for summer
Singlets and jandals for winter
Uniform otherwise
You looked smart in blue
**** in black
Washed out in red
Like death in white
You escaped to Oklahoma of all places
Discovered the music in your heart
Came home with a farmers tan
Work was an issue
At least you tried
***** was the only cure you could find for your lonely soul
If only you had found me
Friends came and went along with your
Umpteen love affairs
Self respect
Confidence
Inspiration
You had cared all your life until nobody cared for you
Your tan faded
It was time to get off the couch and out of bed every morning
Janice kicked you out
You refused to pay rent
Branna and Harrison discarded you too
You were a man of many friends
Yet the loneliness in your soul reduced you to tears every night
In the bed you wish you hadn't made
You traveled
To Perth
Alaska
The dairy down the road
Prices were reasonable
Divorce rate low
Fake tans ever popular
You could get away with anything
I loved your perspective
Burgers, fries and coke
All you could afford but kept the weight off
You were always handsome
And always in need of a shower
You never married, I know
You never met the right one
You never met me
Your blonde hair faded and your eyes grew redder
A nip of gin and three bottles of whisky kept you sane
You gave up on drugs
And cigarettes
Just drank until you fell
down
Janice
A three year old daughter in her arms with eyes like yours
Grey eyes
Came by your house
Full of spite
She stormed in
You hung by your belt from the trellis in the back garden
It was a sad day
Like today
You've always looked **** in black
I hate the fake tan the mortician plastered on you
I hate the fact that Janice spat on you in front of the wee girl
I hate that you don't remember me
I hate that High School was a *****
And that I was shy
But life got the better of you
So I don't blame you
I love you
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Look at that blue sky
she said
as you lay beside her
in the field
behind her house
and she pointed upward
and you followed her finger
as it indicated
the expanse of blue
and white clouds
and a few birds in flight
That cloud formation
seems like angels with harps
and that
she added pointing
further over
Looks like a horse’s head
you nodded and said
And that formation
over there
looks like Miss Brody’s ***
and she slapped your hand
and laughed
and her laughter
carried over the field
and there was that moment
you never wanted to end
like when she kissed
and her tongue protruded
into your mouth
or when she held you close
and you breathed in
her scent
borrowed from her mother
Just a dab
behind the ears
she had said
but that was years before
the cancer had her
but the memory of her
is still here
alive and undead.
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 11:13 AM UTC
Quinn
was a twin
his sister went
to St Clare's
a school for girls
who wanted
to be nun
when she was 21.
But he came to us
a school for boys
and girls
and to my class.
He was a tall
plump kid
with dark
thinning hair.
He sat
next to Brody
who smelt
of bubblegum
and Brylcreem.
What's your sister
look like?
I said.
She's like me
without the dark
thinning hair
he said.
How comes
she went
to an all
girls' school
and not here
with you?
I said.
My parents thought
an all girls' school
might be better.
They're
probably right
I said
can't trust
boys here.
He nodded
guess so.
Why does
she want
to be a nun?
I said.
She always has
since she was 6
and saw our aunt
who's a nun.
I see
I said
what about you?
you want to be
nun too?
No I thought
about being
a priest
though
he said
seriously.
So is that why
you don't come
to assembly
with the rest of us
you're
a Roman Catholic?
I said.
He nodded
yes all
my family are
but the Roman
Catholic school
is too far away
for me to go.
I see
I said.
I showed him
the girl I liked
up on
the sports field
who was
playing netball
with her class.
She was wearing
a short green skirt
and yellow top
and now and then
as she jumped up
a sight of green
underwear.
Quinn looked
away shy.
I stood
and gave
a steady stare.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 3:57 AM UTC
Put it all behind you,
Brody said, but she
Couldn’t, it remained
Like a stain seeping into
The cloth of her being.
Brody’d not been *****
Or left to die or left with
The big question: why?
She needed to be outside
Breathing fresh air, on her
Balcony, not out in the street
Or park awaiting another
Attacker, some one about
To creep up on her and place
A smelly hand over mouth
And nose. Move on, Brody
Said, things happen, that’s
How it goes. She moves only
From room to room, from inside
To outside the balcony, to take
In the sun, moon, or stars, feel
The air, the breeze, smell flowers,
See trees. **** was more than
*** without permission, more
Than hurt or contusions like
Bruised fruit, more than deep
Humiliation, it was loss of her
Freedom, of choice, of dignity,
The breaking in and up and out
And leaving the fragility behind,
To bring her nightmares haunting
To nerves and mind. Brody had
His doubts; wondered if she’d
Fought hard enough, screamed
Loud or whimpered. Or was she
Just up for it, he thought maybe,
But never said, just the look he
Gave, the sign in eyes, the tone
Of voice, the whole language of
Body, she thought on judging
Brody. For all his words and
Suggestions, Brody never slept
With her after that, he slept with
Some other and she with the cat.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 5:40 AM UTC
Put it all behind you,
Brody said, but she
Couldn’t, it remained
Like a stain seeping into
The cloth of her being.
Brody’d not been *****
Or left to die or left with
The big question: why?
She needed to be outside
Breathing fresh air, on her
Balcony, not out in the street
Or park awaiting another
Attacker, some one about
To creep up on her and place
A smelly hand over mouth
And nose. Move on, Brody
Said, things happen, that’s
How it goes. She moves only
From room to room, from inside
To outside the balcony, to take
In the sun, moon, or stars, feel
The air, the breeze, smell flowers,
See trees. **** was more than
*** without permission, more
Than hurt or contusions like
Bruised fruit, more than deep
Humiliation, it was loss of her
Freedom, of choice, of dignity,
The breaking in and up and out
And leaving the fragility behind,
To bring her nightmares haunting
To nerves and mind. Brody had
His doubts; wondered if she’d
Fought hard enough, screamed
Loud or whimpered. Or was she
Just up for it, he thought maybe,
But never said, just the look he
Gave, the sign in eyes, the tone
Of voice, the whole language of
Body, she thought on judging
Brody. For all his words and
Suggestions, Brody never slept
With her after that, he slept with
Some other and she with the cat.
Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 2:19 AM UTC