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	BRANDEN B. BRANDEN
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BRANDEN B. BRANDEN, 5 stycznia 2012

Fruit And Water

To dream the depths of a thousand
Worlds
And amidst the hope and rage there
Swirls
Some sun light awakened and fog that
Curls
In and out of the fading night
--------
With screams of pain and sorrows
Kept
I did awaken to there that
Crept
Upon my skin broke forth cold
Sweat
In and out of the nightmare's fright
--------
And as for the demons hadn't to
Bother
That i'd left in my bed, thank heavenly
Father
And i flushed out my head, brought me to
Fruit and water
In and out of the morning light

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BRANDEN B. BRANDEN, 5 stycznia 2012

From The Old Farmer

Over yonder past stacks of wheat and hay
There lies the first pavements of a newly born city
Ever beautiful and frightening still
I am watching, standing like the American gothic
But with overalls and a straw hat
I fork my hay, moving it to free the image
To free the image of this paved monolithe
Flat like a laid down headstone
Indeed, a headstone to mother earth

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BRANDEN B. BRANDEN, 5 stycznia 2012

Falling Asleep

Such a sweet simplicity
That drowns my brain in milk and honey
and rests it in a distant place
Leaving my body behind
Like a bird flying from a newly opened cage
And all the world drifting off my shoulders
As a sigh escapes me
And echoes in the endless twilight

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Pozostałe wiersze: Fruit And Water, From The Old Farmer, Falling Asleep,

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Poezja

Fruit And Water

From The Old Farmer

Falling Asleep

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