letter to a fan

to whom it may concern –

thank you for your time to write your concern.  but if you think my writing is incoherent,  i am not sorry because it did happen to touch a few other people.  wait and the next story or poem just may make you cry.

thank you for your reading and interest…

– bradford graham west

2014 – in response to a fans letter

on this day

 

we are born each day

we learn and we all fall –

we get back up and learn again

we live,  we love 

all small things like memories are put in a jar

put on a shelf, and remembered from time to time

a heart loves,  a hearts bleeds

we hope, we cry and we lose

everything that passes by and everything that is known

suddenly passes under an elm trees shade

we are born each day

 

c. 2014  bgw

 

of woman and child

 

 

i see her face a thousand times a day

and it soothes,  and like a flood

the memories rush back and takes over the forgotten

a heart that is too fragile,  a mind that sets idle

emotion and passion,  need and want breaks through the worn bandages

and there,  i see her face in some welcomed saving way

//

as i drive up the drive and open that door that is my home

//

a touch of her hand on my arm,   her head on my shoulder

and all that complicated the day,  slowly drains away

my daughters laughter draws me into her world

and the world outside this window passes by

yet what the world makes you think matters doesn’t exist

all within this bliss, waking her up to a good morning kiss

//

i see her face a thousand times a day

and it soothes,  and like a flood

the memories rush back and takes over the forgotten

a heart that is too fragile,  a mind that sets idle

emotion and passion,  need and want breaks through the worn bandages

and there,  i see her face in some welcomed saving way

//

i wanted to save you when london bridge fell down

but thy feet were stuck, pressed upon here on the ground, and  i couldn’t stop the dreams edge from collapsing in

the shapes of thoughts that formed her,  the city and all that dwelled within

all the shapes of the thoughts formed – flashes in, flashes out

i wanted to save you when london bridge fell down

but when the enterprise took over,  the white noise filled these ears

//

as i drive up the drive and open that door that is my home

//

i see her face a thousand times a day

and it soothes,  and like a flood

the memories rush back and takes over the forgotten

a heart that is too fragile,  a mind that sets idle

emotion and passion,  need and want breaks through the worn bandages

and there,  i see her face in some welcomed saving way

//

the street lamps shone in the dusk evening sky

a late winters snow covered lightly on the sidewalks below

and as she held my arm,  the crunch of the snow

found the rhythm of matching footsteps

closer and closer we came to the icy steps of the front door, and  once inside

the fireplace flames flickered and found the dancing shadows of a love entwined

//

the words i write,  paints your picture

the words i write,  paints your picture

//

i see her face a thousand times a day

and it soothes,  and like a flood

the memories rush back and takes over the forgotten

a heart that is too fragile,  a mind that sets idle

emotion and passion,  need and want breaks through the worn bandages

and there,  i see her face in some welcomed saving way

//

as drive up the drive and open that door that is my home

//

and as i sit here,  in front of my window

i prepare for the flood that once one predicted

yet leaving all that once worked to the wayside

and tossed aside the possibility in limbo

fingernails scratching,  digging in the dirt,

all in desperation, crawling and climbing out of the hole i created

//

i wanted to save you when london bridge fell down

but my feet were stuck here on the ground, and  i couldn’t stop the dreams edge from collapsing in

the shapes of thoughts that formed her,  the city and all that dwelled within

all the shapes of the thoughts formed flashes in, flashes out

i wanted to save you when london bridge fell down

but when the enterprise took over,  the white noise filled these ears

//

i see her face a thousand times a day

and it soothes,  and like a flood

the memories rush back and takes over the forgotten

a heart that is too fragile,  a mind that sets idle

emotion and passion,  need and want breaks through the worn bandages

and there,  i see her face in some welcomed saving way

c. 2014  bgw

borrowed valentine

“…you are part of my existence, part of myself.  you have been in every line i have ever read.  you have been in every prospect i have ever seen since –  on the river, on the sails of the ships,  on the marshes, in the clouds,  in the light,  in the darkness,  in the wind,  in the woods, in the sea,  in the streets.  you have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with – to the last hour of my life,  you cannot choose but to remain part of my character..”  –

charles dickens, great expectations

 

 

my writing desk

70

“…a comfort known as my writing desk.  in the urge to write, the creating of a story, ones people can picture in their minds and picture themselves in the proses.  sometimes i find myself just watching the world pass by there.  and other times i find the minutes disappearing all in the words that draw the story.  in a comfort known as my writing desk, anything can happen.  a bad worldly day wiped away by a good wordy verse or two.  the comfort known as my writing desk,  a place where i can bleed,  emotions will speak and seasons pass by…”  bgw

c.2014 bgw

of bright colour pallet

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

seasons come and go,   and the dream remains

as long the ocean waves crash ashore

the sea’s mist kisses your face –

and salty breeze rushes through your hair as the sands warm the toes

you seek and find a calm, a peace that cannot be ignored

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

years fly by,  all in a blink of an eye –

she grips my thumb with her hand and gazes her baby blues from her daddy’s cradling arms

hands on the clock never stopped in reflection of life

the wedding bells gave her away and now drove away into some other story’s chapter,

oh daughter,   happiness just left me with a tear and a wave good bye

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

dream to desire in a world to explore,   i desire more

an english isle castle outside of a busy city hustle

a desire to go back,  a desire to love and love you anew

finds a cold winter white  turning its head to spring’s journey

summer heat meets and dies in autumns arms only to be handed back to winter

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

c.2014  bgw