brandonscott.net

PEACE + FREEDOM

by Brandon Scott

The jangled teeth, protruding jaw-

gentrified seclusion-

we are the keepers of liberty-

shadow and forgetfullness-

we are freedoms hollow vessel-

the fringe of woven uncertainty-

Red, our thirst-

White, our forgotten purpose-

Blue, our boiling blood-

CREATION-

DEVELOPMENT-

ATROPHY-

REBIRTH-

The Tarnished Patriot-

PEACE + FREEDOM-

Benevolent mask of denial-

Turning men into stone-

PEACE + FREEDOM-

forever etched in serpentine cataclysm-

turning men to ravenous dogs-

PEACE + FREEDOM FOR ALL

Test Tube PLaNeT

12/2007

By Brandon Scott

Alabaster faces-

Stoned on a cross…

Hollow grins,

peeling in the shadows…

Rum stained lips,

as clever as the cleavers kiss…

Cut them down,

the seraphim, seraphim…

Hung in silence,

drawn up to the sky…

Head in fowl position,

Heart within the feed…

Mood in rusty hallows,

buried by disease…

razor-wire,

open fire,

what of me, do you require?

Cieling fan,

the working man,

the thought of you, beneath my tire…

This, our larva…

.

.

.

……………………>

The offspring twists and coils under bleak fluorescent light. In stunned confusion, the masses of infested embryo squirm about on the cold laboratory table.  As the light dims, and test lamps ignite. The course of our life flashes in front of us.

This test tube life…

of willing manipulation….

this test

T

U

B

E

PLANET

CHECK OUT THE LYRICS TO MY NEW SONG “Ragdoll”

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Check out the lyric’s on the Writing/Poetry Page above!!!!!!

Here is a poem I wrote when I was 16…

Each line is to be read individually…

with a pause after reading each.

__________________________

~the nothing~

by Brandon Scott

—————————————-

Iridescent light…

only a flicker of life-

I see it, in our eyes…

black-

Silence-

a drum-

thought-

the DRUM-

Channel the DRUM-

——————————————————->  Droning…..

Thinking…

thinking of how to compete…

in a world where the outcome is seemingly all that matters….

yet seemingly the most unknown….

the competition- all that there is….

but there IS MORE than the games of simple, shallow, empty

bodies…

soulless sacks of skin-

There is more than those bodies which have no true earthen

home… no true inner grounding….

There is more than those of us… damned to wither away…

with the possessions that “birth” us…..

there is more than the lust beneath the belt…..

more than the greed wrought in the mind…

rotting the mind…

Thought          ——————————–>  *

The Drum…

ringing,

quiet.

follow the nothingness-

…enter the vast, and vacant flood….

.

-thought-

.

love <3

.

I love with all that only I know…….

I, a man that swims far beneath his bones,

an open art form taking grasp,

of handles giving birth to rasp-

in a throat full of brand new sounds-

sounds of revolution….

in a world full of fresh to be found…

that flickering spark of life u see…beneath the eyes of all

surrounding souls, is met by that same identical flicker found

in the eyes of you and I….

-BE LOVE-

follow the sparks-

we are all flickering-

we are all love-

we are all the Drum-

listen

to blackness-

the drum of silence—

THOUGHTS-

though people have known the same paths as I….

and kissed similar skin….

they have danced upon stages as I…..

they have been where ever I’ve been…

But people can never

fly, as I fly….

through all of the valleys… all of the flesh…..

through all of the thinking…. none are as fresh….

as the feeling -

revealing-

under my blood…

like the road less traveled,

unraveled

beneath the open door….. to which only I posess a

key….

listen-

listen to see-

see nothing, be nothing-

EVERYTHING is within nothing-

listen-

to the drum-

Then be in the stillness with me……

Roses And Ammonia

by Brandon Scott

—————————————

The condition is right-

In this shade of night…..

The apple rolling into position…

Look at that shine-

Glistens- the craving…

Baptism of the wicked-

She brushes his shoulder-

Carries the wound like her own-

He, blind of demeanor-

Prays for release-

The shove comes to push-

Backwards world-

Intersecting lines-

Parallel universe-

A highway spread across a protruding landscape-

Capsules aligned as the contents shift and shake-

Roses…..

Ammonia…

>>>————————->

Careful while in spin-

Careful not to grin-

The directress is watching-

stitched, are them eyes..

Thorns soak in chemical…

Petals in the vile…

She wilts- and he’s diluted

Nothing more worthwhile

Roses and Ammonia

Scattered by the wall-

Roses and Ammonia-

Scattered down the hall-

Roses and Ammonia

Scattered like us all…………….

Carry Burden

by Brandon Scott

I carry my burden-

tricks in my sleeves-

THIN- as the reluctant trick busting overtime…

fleeting purity on Fifth and Grand-

wrapped in bright and shiny paper…

fleeting beauty-

and fleeting fascination-

put myself through the grind-

infernal degradation-

chiseling away-

our fallen commander-

a fleet without direction-

a night screaming surrender-

neon afterglow-

tricks in my mind-

saw my head, spinning round-

tried to catch my breath-

throbbing echo-

I thought this place looked familiar-

I carry burden-

tricks in my sleeves….

Preface by the author:

This is a poem I wrote a few years ago. It is meant to be explicate, as it depicts the thirst of a woman’s sexuality and need to be comforted- crossed with the overbearingness of a man’s domination over her. There is symbolism of rape and submission here and imagery that serves to accent the  severity and tragic irony of her role in this disjointing of purity. The picture goes with the poem…Take it as you may…

- Brandon

Socket+Knife

She carries her sickness-

Thick like the tunic that she wears-

She’s spread open like the mornin’-

Red that runs from where it tears-

Bites her lip in self submission-

White knuckles void of life-

Feels alive in her division-

She’s a socket, he’s a knife-

Take her to the bone-

her moan-

FEAST upon her skin….

Take her to the core-

She’s sore-

Breathe her deeply in-

Hey guys, I added this new poem to the Poetry Page…. check back daily + enjoy!

November  10, 2009

FACTORy

By Brandon Scott

The night births metal-

shifting and shoving, through the narrow of a glass…

I breathe the scent of heavy gasoline-

Caught in shroud-

the masculine strenuosity-

Open is the chasm,

of heaving, robotic flow-

vulnerable to the internal rhythm -

synchronized, is the movement-

the pulse of the factory….

Pulsing and pulsing-

The rhythm-

The breathing-

The ebbing-

The FLowING-

The dying -

The knowing-

The many hours lost within-

quivering and pale, enwrapped in jade glow-

Fading-

And Forgetting-

The people lost within-

The hours cost within-

within-

without-

Where is the exit of this mechanical wound?-

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT

EXIT———————————————————>

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(OPEN Mind here)