The Hallway, 1994

Still the silver rain drops fall,
on their journey down from heaven.
While those around stand in the hall,
a silver clock is striking seven.

And time, end all, will make us even,
our eyes and ears to dust;
in each dream and in each seam,
to this end we’re pushed.

Into powder—then like smoke, away,
as tears for those beyond the grave;
melting too like ancient clay—
a fire in the woodshed burns the same.

What’s behind the sword & fire?
Straight from the womb to fall;
burnt phantom figures on life’s pyre;
as we pass through the hall.

Pull up those hands, and down, again,
inside not touched by lightning, thunder,
remake what’s holy, erase our sin,
undo the human blunder!

Yet the world around us rolls, and like,
we’re one bubble in the sea;
to go away when death invites,
we fall like autumn’s leaves.

Could we supersede this,
and get off the wheel at last?
And see a lighthouse in the sky,
before we by it go by?

Life and death, both end, it’s said;
we all walk the hall.
Singing, dancing, eating bread,
hearing the master call.


Mirror, Mirror, 1994

Mirror, mirror, on the wall—
do you even see at all?
What behind the mirror spies?
Are we looking at our eyes?

What thin shroud has us deluded?
By what God are we occluded?
For some great mystery to solve,
before like sand in glass dissolve?

Like real meshing into naught,
no where and nothing, time forgot.
Here and there a mirrored breeze,
reflecting empty silken seas.

Empty silken seas of sand,
meshing time together, and,
real and nothing pass away;
day by day, it seems to say.

Night by night it seems to shine,
a mystery of the sublime—
beauty in a forest thick,
watching clocks go tick tock tick.

Tick tock tick it talks away,
day after night after day.
Tick by tick into the night,
betraying night to thick sunlight.

Betraying dark, and shadow too,
as the nighttime tends to do.
As newborn light at day will flow,
intriguing us so we may know.

So we might see something so grand,
in every figure, every land;
in each word another says,
still woven by those silken threads.

Silken threads beyond our sight,
beyond daytime, morning light.
Beyond nighttime, twilight too;
what is there left for man to do?

With nothing else for us to see,
no ultimate truth or destiny,
no hate or love or anything,
left to sit alone and sing.

Of our self and songs of old,
in the summer, and in cold.
In a field that shines like glass,
where there we drift into the past.

Mirror, mirror, in the sky,
watching us crawl, and under die;
watching us dance and sing and laugh,
still away fading into past.

As we walk into the now,
into the new, and seeing how.
Back into the darkness peering,
in front of dark shapes, watching, leering.

Into the direction of the new—
with man, alas! Something to do!
Somewhere to go, something to see.
One plus two and two plus thee,
tantamount to destiny.

Tantamount to life itself—
laugh and sing, live, die, or else!
Or else you fritter in the sun,
two minus one minus two plus one!

The Clocks, 1992

Crickets chirp in blades of grass.
The clocks! The clocks!
They tick too fast.
The birds sing happy morning songs.
Today is always all but gone.

Brittle like a crumpled flower,
held by childhood hands—
holding onto every hour,
the hourglass, and it’s sand.

Catch this moment, fading fast:
tightly grip it in your clasp,
dare deadly terrors reach you last;
let it not from in thy grasp.

Clouds! They billow up above,
our Sun too soon to go away;
softly singing like the doves,
she sleeps all night, and works all day.

The clocks! The clocks!
They tick; they tock.
They tick and tock,
and will not stop!

As time goes by,
they all tick faster;
through hope and love,
and then disaster.

Through pleasure, pain,
and falling rain.
Always will it stay the same.

About Me, 1990

My name is Brandon.
God made me.
I was born in February,
on the 1st, 1985,
in Union, South Carolina.
I am Aquarius,
born in the Year of the Ox.
How wonderful God made me.

He gave a nose to smell.
He gave me eyes to see.
How wonderful God made me.

I am special.
God loves me.
He gave me eyes to see.
He gave me ears to hear,
friends and parents all so dear.

He gave me a mouth to taste,
and water to drink,
a nose to smell and mind to think.
He gave me hands to work and play.

He gave me feet and legs so I could walk.
He gave me a tongue and lips so I could talk.
Thank you God, each day I say.
I’m so glad I’m made this way.
I’m so glad I’m here today.