Marketing to Millennials

wonder if my grandparents
had the sense of humor
to sign up for a seminar:
‘marketing to the boomer’

like the greatest gen and boomers,
gen x and now gen z
just one more gen’ in the pipeline,
or so it seems to me

in between selfies and sexting texts
who knows what they will buy
should we market to the boomers
or take our chances on gen y?

the old gen dies, it’s gone from view
boomers pass to millennial
does one gen ever welcome the new?
i wonder if, any will

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

The American Dream

i woke up

from my American dream

things no longer

what they seemed

what was right

and proper then

are relics now

from way back when

human kindness

in short supply

and people still

impoverished, why?

how did things turn

so far around?

to a time we delight

in tearing others down

there must be a place

like the ones i once knew

sanctuary now

a dreamscape view

i woke up

from the American dream

but i’m back in bed

for if i don’t sleep

i’ll scream

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

GRATITUDE’S LATE ARRIVAL

you’ll never know the price we paid

to get you where you are

you’ll never know what it took

to bring you along this far

so if your lack of gratitude

is some strange way of giving back

we’ll check the rear view mirror

until your attitude’s back on track

we will love you from a distance

as we have for all these years

in time you’ll learn life’s lessons

of pain and loss and tears

and when you finally learn gratitude

for all that’s been done for you

we hope you know what real love means

before your karmic bill comes due

farewell my child we let you go

it’s your life to lead so go ahead

may your dreams all come sweetly true

and may you understand

the horseshit you’ve been fed

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

ALL THAT’S LEFT

in time we sip the finest wines
meet the wisest souls
we linger in love’s sweet bouquet
and avoid the rocky shoals

the tide may try to pull us under
life may wrack and gnaw and grind
until finally we discover
the battle was waged in the mind

mountains scaled, a life fulfilled
time adds up as memory scatters
i realize now it’s all distilled
into what really matters

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

i’ve thought a lot about death of late
how life and lives are so finite
it’s best to leave dead things dead
to focus on living seems only right

oh we can try to resuscitate them
if there’s even a shred of life left
but i’d rather leave dead things dead
and focus on living, leave grieving bereft

what else in our lives is at a last resort?
what do i behold just this one time?
i cherish each for i know time is short
karma’s glacial pace sublime

i let it go, sanctifying the space
knowing something better will take its place
perhaps i can really let dead things be
savoring each sweet memory

© Copyright 2016 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All Rights Reserved

RELIGION COLLISION

sparks fly
poor children cry
amid religion’s divisions
people die

doctrine seems to matter
more than lives
what if we disagree
so nobody dies?

what if we gave
just a smidgen
invoking
no religion?

keep faith
free of paradox
giving peace
to each other
instead of gored ox

sitting smug in our pews
are we tolerant of views
that are foreign
free of derision
beyond religion

intolerance’ off-spring
came home to roost
laser-guided reminders
evil is loosed

militant jihadists
dreams will comes true
when death is the goal
the drones on you

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks / All rights reserved.

Slàinte

there are matters in a lifetime
we never seem to mend
like broken hearts and let-downs
or when good things have to end

so we leave the hurts behind us
move on down the road
our hearts grow stronger on the way
lighter with each we unload

life goes on–it’s all we can say
new joys arriving every day
our live’s are richer for all we’ve known
and the souls we’ve touched on the way

in the end we focus on good things
no regrets shall have their due
we’ll recollect all the sweet things
when our old lives fade from view

and if you’re at my final service
raise some whisky in your glass
as we celebrate our lives well lived
the critics can kiss my ass

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

All rights reserved.

Lame Poetry

Lord deliver me
from lame poetry
from cloying phrases
that are sickly sweet
don’t quite rhyme
miss the beat

Lord spare me from mediocrity
especially the over-wrought
terse trite verse
what could be worse?

Lord deliver me
from lame poetry
from admonishing verses
that look down from on high
to us heathen souls
who live and die

Lord deliver me
from lame poetry
instead, give me poems
that move my soul
that shake my bones
that rock and roll
that ask the questions
i never frame

Lord delivery me
from poems
(including my own)
if they be lame

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

ME AND YOU

his step unslowed
his shoulders unbowed
his eyes still somewhat blue
he feels the passing years go by
as finite days come into view
a Sisyphus pushing
against time, defiant
he strains to move
the rock of age
his strength grows weaker
the rock more giant

her step unslowed
her back unbowed
her beauty still shines through
though she knows the toll
that life can take
and what’s been lost
in it’s swirling wake

two hearts beat on
against time’s tide
with scars incurred
from a wild ride
kindred souls
through time
and space
approach the golden stretch
of their human race

they know each other
forever true
all they have
invested
in their sacred trust
me and you

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

 

January 1919

There’s a bit of bacon in the teeth
And the mud is squelchin’ soft beneath
A pullin’ out of Couddes in the rain.
The same stone street in the same damn way
With the same dead drill to do today,
A hikin’ outer Couddes in the rain.

It’s light packs, helmets and gas masks too,
With a drinkin’ Sarge to drive each of us through;
Soldierin’ outside Couddes in the rain
I’d give my shirt for a decent smoke,
I’m tired and I’m stinkin’, wet and broke,
A drillin’ outside Couddes in the rain.

There’s slum to-night and my feet are sore,
Why ain’t I gettin’ my mail no more?
Squad’s eastin’ beyond Couddes in the rain;
The poplar’s black agin the sky,
The Skipper’s cursin’. God knows why
I’m pluggin’ outside Couddes in the rain.

A long hike home when the day is done,
The mist may lift and we’ll see the sun,
A comin’ back to Couddes in the rain,
I’ll bum a bottle of rhum to-nite,
And a little brunette to treat me right,
A comin’ out of Couddes in the rain.

© Copyright 1921 Brooks Bradbury

[ Coudes is a commune in the Puy‑de‑Dôme department in Auvergne in central France. My grandfather, Brooks Bradbury, wrote this poem while stationed there during World War I.]

Precious You

beneath neon skis
of powder blue
precious you

two lifetimes yet
days too few
precious you

on darkest days
a beautiful view
precious you

fireflies dance
in evening’s dew
precious you

a crooked road
a waltz for two
precious you

through it all
i stand by you
precious you

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury

Maple Road

Brooks Bradbury (1973)

There was a home that held all I wanted

A girl, two sons, one very human dog

I wonder if that house is ever haunted

By the great love I gave that catalogue

If a high heat my absent heart still throws there

Be fixed and focused by Time’s burning glass

A gentle fragrance should forever blow there

And flowers sparkle gaily in the grass

There is no need for flame or warmth of fire

No rosy hearth to cheer or snuggle by

There burns the sum of all my soul’s desire-

It was and is and will be till I die!

(An excerpt from the anthology “Backlash”, published by my grandfather, Brooks Bradbury, Copyright 1982, Southbury, Connecticut. Maple Road, in Pleasantville, New York.)

 

Dark Matter

they say this all started

with a great big bang

fire and rain

yin and the yang

millenia passed

and left plenty of clues

like how we crawled out

of some primordial ooze

we’ve come so far

to get to where we are

as we take another lap

around this old star

where are going?

will we ever arrive?

gravity bound

to live and die

still we fight

for border control

incivility takes a terrible toll

hate for hate’s sake

how much more can we take

religious divisions

deep and dark

and the rising tyranny

of the oligarch

are we dumb as a box

of asteroid rocks

after eons of years

dark matter appears

much of it lies

between two human ears

blind-sided

will we ever find

a way around

the dark matter found

in a dangerous minds

© Copyright 2017 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks

When All the Lights Turn Green

when the time is right

and it’s time to go

seize the day

you finally know

new horizons are calling

to places you’ve never seen

the past becomes a distant view

when all the lights turn green

adventure lies in moving forward

before they change to caution’s glow

ride the wave, be brave, live on!

as you face life’s ebb and flow

new horizons are calling you

to places you’ve never seen

the past becomes a distant view

when all the lights turn green

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury

Being at Odds

i was at odds with the world today
and it was at odds with me
it didn’t go where i wanted it to
nor was i where i wanted to be

i’m going to call it an early night
to try and break the spell
out of sorts i can hardly think
please let tonight go well
so tomorrow we’re back in synch

i was at odds with the world today
and it was at odds with me
it didn’t go where i wanted it to
nor was i where i wanted to be

© Copyright 2015 Brooks Bradbury / BrooksLooks