I Awoke!

The nights in it's still
redemption bleeds from me
coming and the going
and ending ones life,
Is like the second coming
dying in deaths blood
and bones cripple and shade
the curse of beast man and tree
boils over until it fills the bath
blood drips like tap water
filling the garden of eden
the birthplace of serpent and tree
hovering over as once before
stuck here know where to go
chasing the light there is know light
only blackness that death,
creates, opening up to,
deaths whisper i close,
eyes and ears and awake
at the dawn of living nature and creatures
Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

"Quote!"

"I'd dug my own grave already, but I've started putting good times and great memory's into it.
So i won't be lonely when I do die."

Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

Poor And The Rich

Is the poor man's sorrow avenged after death
as they will say every man is equal under the ground
or is it that the worms prefer the richness
as in the rich soil and rich clothing and rich cotton
that leaves the poor man untouched and unloved
and that the soil of the rich will be rich like them
and the poor mans grave will be sandy and not hold its water
and wash away some time alone and cold and clotheseless

Maybe richness is in attitude and humour
and the dying of the old and know weeps of pain
and a loving family humongous if not great
maybe poor men hate to live poor but relinquish loves law
and attitudes circle around desuetude and low down blues
but if rich men really are rich maybe it is only in material things
but maybe the poor man's richness is in quite time thinking
which makes philosopher's and writers out of us all

Is the rich man as equal as the poor after death
with roses and nice flowers sitting by the grave
and the maintenance to keep it spic and span
but is this there right or is it only love out of money
the inheritance will shorly make his memory rich
but what about the pauper who smoked and sang a song
they say instead of someone sterile who commanded attention,
by money and authority instead of cool calm and with love

Maybe poorness is only what we see from the outside
and if we read the whole book we be rather surprised
at the being and living inside this dead mans soul
eventually we will all be forgotten only time counts how long until
and if we count the days we lived we would be surprised we were busy being dead
instead of living a life full of wealth in attitude and humour
lucky we have the mind to fill with love and story's
to pass on to the younger which will make the world all the more richer
without the cars and houses we all so desire

Is the poor man's sorrow avenged after death
in this case i think it was with all the story's
and the want for nothing more than he already had
shame we have to live with people for more greed which builds greed
the poor man was avenged from pure thinking and wisdom he gained
but wisdom is only gained through mistakes or wrong choices
the rich man will die poor because there's know were,
to spend money on the dark side of the moon the blackness death creates
the place were all creatures go money or know money wisdom or know wisdom

Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

To A Love, That Day

Bragging of the sensual,
one being
Brags of her misery,
untold to none
Hating here bridges,
gaps in breasts
Holding her bitter tongue,
Not until,
I gasp and envy at here sensual,
Touch that is caressed,
She glides,
A smile to tickle my brain,
Is this not ,
Great i sigh,
The sensual one being told
I smiled a smile a country clown,
Would command,
She bites and haunts,
The idiot wind,
And blames her bragging
On to many hours at the waist
She brags of her misery,
I hold tongues,
At this sensual one being
Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

And Is Death Infinite By Nature

Is death infinite by nature
ruminating until the end
but death balances the hope
and announces that help

is in retrospect
and death and torture

are infinite by nature
but power cancelles inosance
and haunting nature
reflects the damaged and damned
but purity enriched many
purists and those among
and is death infinite by nature


saneness is pain bought
forward for white coated ego's
and is death and
pain infinite by nature
pain as foreclosed as
evening's grimness everyday's
sceptisism is but recorded
producing humility
and pain is retrabution
bought together in ones oath
and is death infinite by nature


challenges people to look up
and value what has been
and as time recollects
is time is on our side
but death isn't for what we know
and is time and death
infinite by nature as we know
is but to answer the never ending line
were do we go after we die
maybe death is infinite by nature
and death we shall be born again

Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

Eight Legged Creeper

The eight legged creeper
As wide as your hand
And they live of the land
the hairy night time creeper


They give you the nighttime bite
Without being aware
They creep on you in the night
And this hairy nightime creeper


Will scuttle across your skin so light
You don’t wake up in the night
It’s only when it’s daylight
And this hairy nightime creeper


Will unhappily come into sight
That you might find you will get a fright
The scar on my arm
Is from one of these eight legged creepers
The hairy nighttime creeper


They leave a mark unaware in the dark
I was not aware no fuss
What seeped inside this scar
Was a bubble full of puss
And for me this hairy nightime creeper


The morning pain was all in vain
I never found this creeper in my eye frame
But that nighttime creeper
That caused my arm to seeper
And that hairy nightime creeper


If I had of caught him
he would have been a keeper
And just as shore as my name
It’s still there the scar stain
But I don’t hold any blame
So that hairy nightime creeper


And I will always remember that night
When the eight legged creeper
The nightime creeper
that little hairy creeper came
Copyright@BradleyHeenan2011

The Day Ahead

the bitter air lingers on in my stale mind
behind a closed mind
wandering for proof of existence
or the presence of spirit i pondered it
was i real and have i had a meal
or do i need to steal that seal
and eat it like an apple peal

it satisfied my want
shunt to think it filled me up
and i filled my cup
with boiling metal
this is know rose petal
and there's know chance
of boiling it in the kettle
this will make me settle
it will ease my stale mind
and will be very kind
so eased back in my chair
i had know care nor worry

i was fed and
waiting for the morning
i'll wake up in bed
and my brain will send warnings
ringing thumping and buzzing
everything will be fuzzy
and ill feel the bitter air
linger on in my stale mind
behind a closed mind
waiting for proof of exsistence
or the presence of spirit
Cpyright@BradleyHeenan2011