One More Thing

when my time has come
and i fade from view
do what you will
with what’s left of me,
then do what’s best for you

and one more thing…

when i’ve gone–
after my last day
buy plenty of whisky
and find a piper
who’ll play

and if there is any
money left
spend more on the whisky
and no time
bereft

scatter my ashes
on a gentle breeze
in the woods
near a brook
or by some trees

take a sip
sit back and breathe
remember how it was,
how we used to be
then carry on
the best you can
here’s to you my friend
last drink’s on me

no religious jargon
nor prayerful words
just humor and jest
and singing birds
it was the life i was given
i did my best
to many too quiet,
out ridin’ fences
distant and odd
in tune with my senses

tho’ our earthly dance
has come to pass
i’ll smile down
(up, as the case may be)
so tip your glass
for a moment or two–
remember me

if you were among
the precious few
precious to me
and i to you,
i leave here
on the wings of your love
with all we shared
i rise above

and one more thing…

to those who think i’ve left
owing some debt
whether of the heart
or financial aid
please take a glass
my account is closed
your bill is paid

and one more thing…

if you still believe that
i owe you somehow
beyond one lifetime
after i’ve come to pass
it will be easier now
that i’m laid out
to bend over
and kiss my ass

© Copyright 2017 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks
All Rights Reserved

Alpenglow

new calves play
jumpin’ around
horses graze
in fields of green
columbine blooms
crimson and blue
wildflowers pop up
in between

river flows
too fast to fish
as the sun comes down
we’ve got our wish
Colorado
in the alpenglow of evening
each sweet sundown,
Colorado

farmin’ thrives
and ranchers strive
to make the livin’
their fathers did
a finer home
they’ve never known
lucky to grow up here a kid
as the sun comes down
i’m glad we did
find a place in Colorado
another sweet sundown
under alpenglow in
Colorado

thankfully
the wild west
is still the best
a perfect match
for wanderlust
and bravado
i think of the old days
now and then
as the sun comes down
i let it go and i rise again
grateful once to
call it home
Colorado
another sundown,
of sweet alpenglow in
Colorado

maybe this is it
and our lives’ end here
on these dirt roads
in each passing year
the sun comes down
on this small town
and we’re glad it’s so
Colorado
sweet alpenglow
in Colorado

here in the mountains
we left it behind
on the other side of
the great divide
saddled and tacked,
ready to ride
got ourselves
a brand-new motto
as the sun comes down
we lived it up
out West
in the sweet alpenglow
of Colorado

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

Moved to Tears

they moved from Vermont
and the Berkshires
south to Connecticut’s shore
moved to the land
of bratwurst and cheeses
to Sheboygan and back
to the Blue Ridge for more

moved to the land
where roadrunners race
where ocotillo grows
in wide open space
south and east
to the land of the pine
moved for a time to old Appalachia
moved to the Smokies
in North Caroline
at last they moved West
in hopes it would be
a move toward home,
and sanity
Utah, Arizona, Colorado
along the great divide
where the air is clear
and the views open wide

if you add up ‘em all up
all the beginnings and ends
the sad goodbyes
to new-made friends
and all those years
of unknown fears
moving trucks
and changing gears
you’ll know why now
they’re moved to tears

how many times
can furniture be stored
or tied on top
with bungee cord
how many moves
can they really make
how many cross-country drives
can anyone take?
how many towns
will they call home
how far can they go
how far will they roam?

oh the packing tape
on each cardboard box
new license plates
new primary docs
when home is
a rental
and a P.O. Box

through address changes
and open ranges
following their hearts all those years
if you asked why they did it
they can hardly say
they’re moved to tears

maybe it’s the new American way,
to follow work where it is today
paycheck gypsies out on the run
crossing the country in search of each one

for the pact is broken now
loyalty long gone somehow
businesses cutting every cost
without knowing all that’s lost

if you add up ‘em all up
all the beginnings and ends
the sad goodbyes
to new-made friends
and all those years
of unknown fears
you’ll know why
they were moved to tears

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

A Poet’s Prescription

thank you for sharing
these moments with me
for reading words
arranged
mindfully

a poem can convey
what a poet might say
how they think about life
how it all goes
peacefully pondering
it’s ebbs and flows

here in the present
where the real gifts
are received
true presence is ours
if only we
b r e a t h e

the randomness
of our connection
how you wandered by
perhaps seekers
of joy and wisdom
in time, coalesce
ally

if you’re still reading
in search of a clue
i sincerely hope
i’m getting through

if you’re here biding time
you’ll appreciate
the message and
that some of these words
actually rhyme

here is the thing
a poet might say
as each of us
wanders about on our own
learning and
searching
sometimes astray

poets
recommend
reading
a few poems
on the way

© COPYRIGHT 2016, Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

Something Gave

red blood
on a white hot sidewalk
officers in blue
an outline in chalk

lost in the cracks
humanity cringes
at the unravelling lives
of souls on the fringes

disenfranchised
sanctuary lost
forgotten and hurting
the real human cost

here evil moves in
like an angry flood
a price is paid
in innocent blood

red blood
on a white hot sidewalk
officers in blue
an outline in chalk

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

These Words
these words are written
simply my own
a seeker on faraway trails
out here, a long way from home

these words i’ve written
could hardly convey
answers to questions
or even the way

if our paths cross
and we share a smile
i’ll be the better to know you
as we linger on a little while

and then we’ll be off
to our own dimensions of time
all that will remain
are these words
on a bridge of rhyme

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

Appalachian Soul

into these mountains
life is sacred and whole
i came in search of
Appalachia’s soul

into these mountains
hollers and coves
on native trails
in Nature’s groves

into these mountains
Appalachian folk
thrive as ever, adapting
sturdy as oak

into these mountains
lifetimes of courage
where The Smokies are home
on an endless Blue Ridge

into these mountains
life is sacred and whole
i came and discovered the depth
of Appalachia’s soul

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

Crash and Burn

maybe when
you crash and burn
you’ll come back again
and maybe you’ll learn
some lessons then
like life’s rewards
are what you earn
what your gifts afford
when you discern
it was never about you
what’ll you do,
when you crash and burn?

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

it took too long
to really see
time rushing
through the sieve
along life’s journey
there went me
but did I really live?

i vow to do much better
in the moments that remain
to live with gratitude
on purpose
while here i remain
still somewhat sane
i’ll suck life’s marrow
so to speak
while my own joints
have less to give
they may grind and creak some
but did i really live?

encourage me to do it all
while i really can
we’ll have a ball
share every gift
forget and forgive
so we don’t wake up
toward the end
and ask the other,

did I really live?

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

Little Lives

no one knows
how any soul
could live
by limiting their own
pushing exhausted
onward strives
life’s survivor alone
let us dream big
out on the edge
and let us not lead
little lives

and after striving there
upon life’s high summit
through its depths
and painful dives
will we sit back
with memories
while only living
little lives?

let us learn to
forgive ourselves
for wasted moments
and misspent days
in spite of what life
conjures and contrives
and all the ways
we lead little lives

this miracle of
spinning atop
a sphere
near a sun
just a moment of life
even one on the run
an incomprehensible gift
reason never to squander

moving a poet
to muse and ponder
how we must live on!
whatever the universe
provides or connives
reason enough
for us to avoid
ever leading
little lives

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

My Father’s Son

when you look at me
my father’s son
i hope you see
all he had done

to guide a kid
through his youth
over the years
long past his own
his name and face
passed on and how
his legacy is
his children now

he taught us
how to listen
never wasted
one single word
how to stay calm
in storms that raged
to best the ambiguous
avoid the absurd
in our battles waged
to bear the discomfort
with extra-effort tries
to aim for the hoop,
the goal, the mitt,
the bullseye, the cup
and to never, ever
ever give up
the value of sports
he who gives up, dies

for in winning well
other sportsmen
of honor
can always tell

until i rebelled
at his consistency
and i miss him now
him and me
and i try to be
more like him
strong and wise
quiet, of health
so to this day
he’d be proud of me

when you look at me
my father’s son
i hope you see
all he had done

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

arriving
in a digital dimension
neither of us
knowing the other
perhaps you wonder
what you’ll discover
me, i’m grateful for
your attention

for these simple
moments in time
as you consider
an unknown rhyme
for i, a bridge of poetry
to an unknown you
sweet and sublime
crossing over
to a human view

in time you’ll find
what i’ve revealed
and what’s been hidden
long since steeled
a poet conveys
in obscure ways
perhaps in time
or clad in rhyme

if your uninspired eyes
glaze and shift
all i desired,
before you go,
was to share
with you
my simple gift

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

.

Common Thread

the greatest gen
came along and next
begat the boomers
who begat gen x

gen x’ers begat gen y’ers
who in turn begat gen z
then alphas and betas
all mysteries to me

every gen thinks it’s better
and the next is never the same
gens never really see eye to eye
in life’s generational game

selfie sticks and sexting pics
and the like seem pretty lame
peace signs, beads and love-ins
perhaps more of the same

as long as we keep having new gens
there’s hope for our species ahead
the only common thread it seems
each gen is good in bed

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved