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