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Monday, June 24, 2013

Quote

The past is not meant to be a boulder to weigh down your journey. Place it beneath you feet and let it pave your road to success. ~R.M

Universal flow

Deep inside of each of us is a world within a world
An unseen river
Flowing with the fiercest of currents
To the pulse of a cosmic flow.

Knowledge unattained
Burns within
A keg waiting to be tapped
If only the souls becomes thirsty enough to drink.

Nectar of the Gods
Pure knowledge is.
It makes a fools head swell
A humble man beg.

Believe then what you will
Dare to swim in its current
Or stand idly upon its shore.

The river flows seen or unseen.
Experienced or ignored.
Choose wise if you will
For the river is far more than a great well.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Unspoken (lyrics)

She never talks about Minnesota
 The pain lingers there
Vacant buildings, sharp needles, cold empty stares

She never talks about the misery
society's cast away
never speaks of the gun shots
tears would stream down her face

Long hidden are the memories
that cold winter gloom
begging for absolution
lives taken too soon

the nightmares still come
screams in the night
Begging, praying something will make it all right

She never speaks of Minnesota
or the Summer that lead her there
Never speaks of the loneliness
Emptiness buried there

A face of kindness
Peppered a sea of hate
she never speaks of Minnesota
although her innocence never left that place.

Buried deep within a closet
shouts, gun shots ringing out
drug induced sleep
months swept past like weeks

Never does she speak
of wasted youth
lost love
Daily she remembers being sheltered
by something from up above

She Never speaks of Minnesota
only lives it in her sleep
the days of Freedom
time does not keep
When flesh is sold

Drugs peddled down the lane
flesh is always the source of the pain
She never speaks of the sound
change jingling in expensive suits
the sweet taste of relief
from a lone bowl of soup

Her soul died in Minnesota
innocence torn away
her heart was already gone
lonely, waiting by a lake

She never speaks of Minnesota.

(c) R.M Brandon 2013

Friday, June 14, 2013

Today

I saw an old couple today grey hair billowed in the wind on the back of a tricked out Harley they smiled and waved as they drove away.
I saw an old couple today side by side the rocked gently in the front porch shade I smiled and waved as I drove away.
I saw an old couple today he carressed her hand while silently she laid. I could hear the soft buzzing of the machines as I closed the door and walked away.
I saw an old couple today they laughed and reminisced across the table. He gave her half of his cheeseburger as the waitress smiled and walked away.
I saw an old couple today she peered into the darkness as his casket was lowered away. Tears graced her flushed, pale cheeks as one by one the mourners walked away.
I stopped for a moment to remember how swiftly life passes away.
(C) R.M. Brandon 2013

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Untamed

Fickle is the wild heart. Brave are those who dare to tame it. Like a stallion or the rivers wild some things are made to stay free.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Reincarnation or Happenstance

If this existence is a mirror of another will the path taken be the same? Will ever there come full circle the meeting of this long condemned soul? What footfall will lead to a road as yet untraveled?  In which flesh do we stand condemned or soveriegn man? Do the choices change with standing?
The oddity of continuation within a world of resurrected perishables. A world in which memories borrowed become a roadmap to the stars of souls. Idiocracy, musings of an erratic, unsound mind most would say. Yet, what if this fishnet of time and space, this intricate orchestra of life plays on a scale far grander than imagined? Who is the playwrite, who are the players or is it simply a symphony our souls dance forever through?