baked fresh bread you can be perfectly content in a forest. If you have never stood at the base of a tree so old its top spans beyond sight, its base wider than a car, never climbed up its branches to see the wonder below, you can be happy on a couch. If you have never ventured out the door to taste the bitter sweet success that is love, never felt the warmth of compassion, the joy of a strangers smile. If you have never taken the time to live, you can be perfectly content simply waiting to die. The cruelity of the joke Ignorance is Bliss is knowledge is never unlearned. Once you have stood in the shadow of dream long enough to feel even a glimpse of its warmth, letting go is not an option. So what then is to be of ones who are not ignorant? Live the tortured existence of knowing what is unattained or try to become ignorant? Either existence is simply resigning to death and waiting for flesh to oblidge. When you look at a bird, do you still wish you could fly?
Poetry, Prose, short stories,random rants, unbelievabe ideas. A life extroradinary at a glance.On a side note this blog is for me, a place to work through my hopes,fears,dreams, and ideas.If you wander into my mind, enjoy and share.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Ignorance Is Bliss
baked fresh bread you can be perfectly content in a forest. If you have never stood at the base of a tree so old its top spans beyond sight, its base wider than a car, never climbed up its branches to see the wonder below, you can be happy on a couch. If you have never ventured out the door to taste the bitter sweet success that is love, never felt the warmth of compassion, the joy of a strangers smile. If you have never taken the time to live, you can be perfectly content simply waiting to die. The cruelity of the joke Ignorance is Bliss is knowledge is never unlearned. Once you have stood in the shadow of dream long enough to feel even a glimpse of its warmth, letting go is not an option. So what then is to be of ones who are not ignorant? Live the tortured existence of knowing what is unattained or try to become ignorant? Either existence is simply resigning to death and waiting for flesh to oblidge. When you look at a bird, do you still wish you could fly?
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Witan vid Update
Ahhh. The ides of March have passed and the end is drawing near. To my regret and yet revelry I must announce a slight delay in the debut. We anticipated a March release of The Green Man's Curse.
Yet, with wisdom of an amazing editor/writer it has returned to me again. If it is in my hands why the delay? Because I am growing as writer. I could easily give it to you as written, but you wouldn't see the story. You might miss the beauty of a love scene, or the tragedy of a death simply because I didn't show you everything there was to see. Or help you feel what these characters feel.
If I fail in that as a writer, I do not only myself, but my readers a great disservice. So I dive back into the script. In Lost Lambs I have given you a glimpse of the dark side of my writing. In The Green Man's Curse I will show you everything else.
You will love, laugh, cry, agonize, fail, and succeed. At thed end of that journey we will stand together, reader, writer, in a place far beyond your imagination at the begining.
Please be patient. I am working not to give you a book, but a story that will captivate your mind, imagination, and maybe even your life. Until then keep walking with me here. And Thank you for following.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
PEOPLE AND CRITTERS
On the bank of the creek. My pole taught in the water. I patiently wait. As I wait, a crow circles above. Two turtles play leap frog jumping in and out from the muddy bank. Slightly up creek a fish jumps. My mind soars with the crow. Up and down through the clouds, high above what I can see, he sees beyond.
If you follow my writing , you, by now, have realized I am facinated with wings and slimy things. Basically anything that flies,crawls, and croaks. Oh and the fuzzy critters as well. But what holds my heart the closest is a toss between birds and frogs. Looking back I guess it has always been like that for me, head in the clouds, eyes to the ground.
What is your critter? The animal that reccurs through your life, thoughts, writing. What does this critter represent to you? No I will not change the word to animal. I said critter and I meant it.
(In the background my mom is cringing over my word choice. Hi mom)
I'm curious. Talk to me. What is the creature that captivates you?
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Lost Lambs
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Summer's Kiss
She is the moonlight .
Licking the shore line of my life,
Soflty caressing the edges,
velvet upon sand.
The salt of her skin, crisp
As the ocean breeze,
Filling my lungs with
Her uniqueness.
Her smile, the sunlight to my soul,
Warming the depths,
Of lifes Abysal void.
Her voice quiets the angels on high.
Pure melody.
Her rythm; jazz
To my blues.
Her love, hotter than a wildfire in summer wind,
Igniting the forgotten passion,
Deep in this ice soul.
She dances in my eyes.
Flash of golden skin,
Our bodies rise.
She is all.
All Ill never be.
Everything,
She gives me.
(C) R.M. Brandon 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Battle Cry of the Dying
The dawn sounds the bugles cry. Another day begins in the battle to survive. Fight to keep going. Fight to stay alive. Fighting back tears from hazel eyes. Why. The battle to live will always be lost. Fight it we must. For the generations to come. Another day begins. The fight to stay alive. Tomorrow will bring a new sunrise. One day life will be more than just a fight to stay alive. (C) R.M. Brandon 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Twisted Metal
Twisted metal
meets hillbilly king
through the front door
exploding fire on gasoline
I'll be your crazy bitch
You fiddle playing fool,
They way you fuck with my heart
leaves my without a clue.
Rosin those lips
before you spit another lie
Then stand back,laugh
while razored tears I cry.
I can be your crazy bitch
until sanity walks away
Beg for your salvation
make my feet do the same.
Crazy inside
Crazy with your lies
Crazy bitch while she's laughing
under the bed she hides.
So many thoughts of crazy everyday
revenge would be so much sweeter
feel the blood drip off cold fingers
play that fiddle sweetie
Ill sharpen up my claws
Bitches like pain
Trust me
I can make you scream my name.
Crazy inside
from your web of lies
when crazy is gone
this bitch walks away
Cry on your fiddle
as I step on your heart
I'll be your crazy bitch
You fiddle playing fool
Are you ready
Let's make a fresh new start
~Lyrics~ (c) R.M. Brandon 2012