BrooksLooks@ One Life

20170805_150802 (1)

One Life

there at the outset we’re missing the smarts
act less with our brains, more with our hearts
we don’t even know that we don’t even know
and the current of life continues to flow
carried along as wild winds blow
are we the vigilant guardians of some narrow view?
who don’t even know that we haven’t a clue
and at the end of our lives will we discover it’s true?
that it was less about me and more about you
like roaming bulls in life’s china shop
always ready to fight
never knowing when to stop
oblivious to what’s right
addicted to the daily news
am i only the vigilant guardian of some narrow view?
do i not even know that i haven’t a clue?
at the end of my life will i discover it’s true
that it was less about me and more about you?
are we leaping from one extreme to another
is our age of over-reactions
padlocked ideas and polarized factions
narrowing views and distant blood brothers
and the fading age of our loving mothers
where are we as a nation, a city a town
as people and races
and politics astound
are we heading
toward consciousness?
a new-age ethos to be?
or are we only drifting about
in a wide-open sea?
will our species ever achieve
unconscious competence?
will we truly believe
or will we squander our providence
lose the flight of the dove
with spirits diminished in the face of lost love?
are you only the vigilant guardian of some narrow view?
who doesn’t even know you haven’t a clue?
at the end of your life will you discover it’s true?
that it was always less about you
you could have taken a wider view
it was always less about us
limited by our narrow view

© Copyright 2014 by Brooks Bradbury ǀ Brooks Looks

BrooksLooks@ Tears in Chiricahua


ancient chiricahua
sacred long ago
now called arizona
their ancestral home

their mountains and
their grasslands
the places
they roamed then
now only traces
of ‘nde chokonen

generations came before them
unknown apache heirs
native blood spilled often
defending what was theirs

who then one day atones
for all their broken hearts
and each apache broken bone
their bodies died yet sanctify
their chiricahuas still
unbroken native spirits
unbroken native will

their voices whisper in the silence
spirits roam now without fears
when it rains in chiricahua
it rains apache tears

© Brooks Bradbury | BrooksLooks

BrooksLooks@ Native Son

Native Son 
November 2013   
the generation after the greatest one 
grew up as proud daughter and son 
heir to their own brave new world 
in a new time their lives unfurled   
fresh challenges and future shock 
nuclear ticks on a doomsday clock 
mindful of the price once paid 
for freedom earned with blood in trade 
perplexed at today’s reality  
perhaps the greatest regret what they have done
in this tear-it-down mentality 
what are the feelings felt by its native son? 
still these are the days 
of a future gratefully sought 
do the greatest ones regret
what they have wrought?  
pachyderm rule over a herd of red asses 
vigilant guardians of a racist view 
native sons shocked at what passes
democracy led askew 
they have endured the age’s new ways
techno gifts of a digital dawn
old minds turn negative and stiff 
wherever has ‘what’s right’ gone? 

© 2013 Brooks Bradbury / Innspired Hospitality