Credo Ut Intelligam

Credo Ut Intelligam
Above all else, think and reason. See with the eyes of your heart.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

What will you say?

One day someone will ask
        what exactly became of them?
                  Meaning, what became of us
                                  The two of us
                                          One day soon I suspect
                                                   Was there issues of singular or mutual trust?
                                         An inordinate amount of physicality or fuss?
                                                                     Was someone unkind,
                                                                or unjust?
                 What would you say in response?
I know what I would say because
   I say it everyday
Copyright ©2010 by j. k. Bradford, All Rights Reserved

Monday, December 13, 2010

Bent Notes

Time holds no dominion over me
I defy time with the fortuitousness of an ancient warrior
Not for the sake of vanity
Nor for the mere triumph of will
But better still
I do it for you

For me
Time is a instrument with notes to bend
Like the strings of a guitar or of a Cello caressed without a bow
and what I really feel; I am sharing here now
Is love for you
A love secret and gentle, and strong
A mirror reflection of  the object of my affection
A sprout through the soil of my own broken heart
and scar marked resolve
My heart is glad and it longs for you

It has been only a short while
and it is true that we have not shared much time
But time holds no sway over me
Or the dominion of this warrior’s heart of mine
Copyright ©2010 by j. k. Bradford, All Rights Reserved

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Dogma Becomes you

When we speak of that which supports the proverbial columns of pathology.

I wonder why you hold yourself in such high esteem
The bag of tricks you hold so dear appears to be nothing more than a few slight of hand parlor gimmicks and Cracker Jack box gifts for onsite lifts to distraction
At times I think you employ yourself to work as your own personal concierge
To wait on your glacial ego hand and foot
and play back commentary so you can hear the dulcet tones of your own  arrogance
Dogma becomes you
Red hot with hypocrisy and porous like pumice stone
Made twice as abrasive
Why must it be so?

When you lift yourself above your own ground level
and entice others to buy into your mindscape of undulating untruths
and the constructs of corporal conceit
For me
The casual observer
You have bathed yourself in the rancid fish oil of self
Danced naked in the mid day Sun of stupidity and allowed the stench to fester
and reach new
Previously undiscovered heights
The reaction from others you have predictably misread as applause
When the truth is to a degree and from some it indeed is
However it is woefully the blind often lead the deaf and dumb
I call out but you will not listen
You listen,
but only to the droning sound of sea shell waves crashing
and the empty praise of false critics
I call out but you cannot hear me
Because although blind, you are Marred by the adopted faults of your
asinine constituency
Copyright ©2010 by j. k. Bradford, All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Portishead - Mourning Air

Eating Rain

A childhood memory.
As a child I enjoyed the comfort of the rain
I would lay prone and upwards on my lawn and shielded
By a child’s spectacles
I Watched the rain from the grass’s vantage point
and smiled
From time to time with my sleeve I would wipe away the particles
To more clearly see the continuing stream
Until my clothes were soaked and I eventually grew cold

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

I AM....

                                                                                  My orneriness sits in a dish with the root beer barrels
I gave a rest to the rest of my youthful angst and needless quarrels
                       For now I am
               A lion
                                           I  am not crying
                                                                    I am
                                                                          I am alright
      My drunken dangers and life rearrangements
                                         Familial estrangements
                                                                              Gone away and today and everyday I pull along
                                                                                                                                                For now I am
A lion
            Full of lucid dreams of flying
                                                       I am
                                                              I am rapture
My silhouette of drugs and regret cannot get to me anymore
I lean against the Army's King and ignore the life traps and trip ups
                                                              For I am
                                              Now I am
                                I am a lion
                I am a lamb
                                                                                                    I am what others cannot understand
                                I am the made over with a purposeful plan
I am
I am
                                                                                                                  I am the new me
                                                               And I am happy for me
©2010 j. k. bradford

Monday, November 1, 2010

I am the Intuit

Who really, really knows

Even when you fall in love it is fake
You say you don’t want to really touch me
For fear I might terribly crack or break
But it’s me and I am not that fragile
Although I am limited in what I emotionally can take
You cannot shake me that easily

Not you…
I know

You cannot possibly see what I see in your face
A hollowed hooray and a immoral menagerie
Of broken bits, spoiled brat fits and black lace
Talking about pride, but spelling out tragedy
You think we are two peas but that is a mistake
And so I say goodbye to you and the inevitable insanity
©2010 j. k. bradford

Read more:

As Tall As Lions -Stab City

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Autolux - Asleep at the Trigger

Outside of Catalina

I have developed a fa├žade of puka, conch shells and mother of pearl
I tossed myself into the waves outside of Catalina Island in hopes of making my way onto your shore
If you come close and listen closer you can still here the ocean in my voice
And when I close my eyes to dream
I watch the iridescent shimmer shake like your tail feathers do
and like you do for me, I wish to lull you hypnotically
Into a false sense of security
©2010   j. k. bradford

“you were always my favorite drug..even when we used to do drugs” scott wieland

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Friday, October 22, 2010

James 1:23-25 The Mirror Forgets

I have to remind myself of what is confirmed as factual
Not that I doubt or question it; I simply allow the phlegm of life to
To create a slippery slope of forgetfulness
I have to keep firm in mind that over and below, from another to the other side are the waving hands of passerby’s
Claiming greener lawns under false pretenses
Jail cells hidden behind house facades with white picket fences
But, I have given that a try, and it is a vehement lie
I see the banner flags of standard folks
 A worldly menagerie of malignment and self plotted confinement
Tossed about by misery; inkling for companionship and camaraderie
A single real moment of unfettered intimacy
I have forgotten before, and then in an instant remembered
Dodging the deceiver’s machete wielding; hungry for dismembering
As before, I kicked myself and quickly huffed upon the burning embers
That nearly flashed out of existence without my constant attention and persistence; to what needs be done
How we forget, when we turn away from our own reflection
Where our allegiance lies
How quickly we can come undone
Even with the mentorship of the Christ; Jah’s only begotten Son
So, I say to myself: This is to be expected
I must take a hold of the tools made available and read, study, reflect
And speak to Him, share with Him everyday
And then
Make an assessment of my own engine;
Is it in working order: Check
Oil: Checked.
An evaluation of wear and tear; Check
 Tires kicked; Check
I have to remind myself of what is important; righteous and therefore true
I wish I could stay firmly tied to the anchor of action
When I sequester my will but still my imperfect person breaks through
And its 1 step forward, and sadly backwards 2
©2010 J. K. Bradford

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Copper Penny

I have always been your proverbial cinnamon penny
Not worth much, but I will shall shine and spend only for you
I fear in your silk purse of coins I am frankly one of many
Still I would like to believe that it simply isn’t true
For a tickle there is something that strikes me as funny
Although the idea of it leaves me dejected and blue
If I told you I knew of your poor conduct and misbehavior
Would you claim my words were meant to batter or bruise?
Because I have always been your personal copper penny
Not worth much but I willingly give you a penny’s luck
If I could I would love to venture elsewhere
But in the corners of your purse lining I always seem to be

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Monday, October 11, 2010

Stay Tuned My Love, Stay Tuned

You wondered what new blunder I could muster that could possibly render you aghast and asunder?
Stay tuned I will let you know
You question what of any of the many lessons could like a meal be fed into your head for quick digestion?
Stay close and I will let you know
The years of slip and falls into the arms of one another, shielding the other from the storm and the thunder
When outside it was freezing cold
Now you presume I would disclose what just may loom behind the roses, sweet talk and perfume?
If I told you I fear you would go
So stay tuned; I will let you know….eventually
©2010  J. K. Bradford