Random Ramblings of Brandon Wolf
The mantle of the Criminal, a crown that doesn't fit. Working through probation, and shovelling with shit. Somewhat out of character, somewhere out of place.
The icy wind was harsh, as was the tone in his voice. He said: "One of us has to die. We have no other Choice!" They all looked at each other, each trusting his words where true.
That was a kind of strange moment, but it passed and again I can think. Maybe it's all the smoke that I've had, or maybe it's just the drink.
Ok, so where the party?.
Oh my dearest Opuss, Oh what a year it's been. The friends I have encountered, The things I've read I have seen. Oh my dearest Opuss, In one year we've become more than friends.
"There's a message in there somewhere", said the spider to the fly. He always liked a chat before he ate. "Don't be sad now fella, it's a shame to see you cry. Who are we to judge the hand of fate?".
*Warning - Contains themes some readers may find offensive. You have been warned.* #xmasparody Silent night, unholy might. Travelled through time, to slay this night.
*Warning - Contains Themes of an Adult Nature* Bill was chewing on a donut, and fondling his piece, while thinking of a girl the night before.
"Can you imagine Thomas, if the Union wins the war, Lincoln gets his way and frees up all the slaves.
#ColourChallenge A ship had been bought, when his house had been sold. He'd assembled a fine crew, from the brave and the bold. So with men in the rigging, and food in the hold.
Firstly, let me tell you the entries for this have been great read, and it really has not been easy to pick my Top 3, but, after much consideration, here are the results: In 3rd Place is the...
A big thanks to @HeatherAnne for choosing my entry "Icy Blue" Congrats to the runners up and well done everyone who took part.
It was sticky in the bush, for Pablo and his mates. Bouncing around with the kangaroos and challenging turtles to race. Now things where pretty bonza, for Pablo, Mixxy and Titch.
There is something about a moment, just a moment, nothing more. All I ask from you is a moment, that I may cherish forever more.
Welcome to Umbra Babylon. This tower was never pulled down. As the enemy fights over ruins, it grows in secret renown. A true celestial temple, an inner, outer space.
#ColourChallenge Ice blue where her eyes, to match the bitter cold of her soul. She was host to the bleakest winter, as the warmth from the sun he stole.
I am pained by the injustice as white phosphorous falls from the sky, and the IDF are lacing up their boots.
It was a fragile stability, that kept the man in his place. Shuffling up and down corridors, inner turmoil etched on his face. He hated the indignity, when summoned to cue for his meds.
I stood at the base of the great Tree of Life. At its summit I saw a Golden Apple. I started to climb the tree. Half way up I saw snake eyes in the shadowy darkness of the branches and heard hissing.
I once held a precious treasure, a fragile beauty in my hands. A prism of reflective pleasure, with gentle radiance it shone. It was formed with compassion, in a furnace fired with love.
"What do you mean it's too early for beer?", he said with a mischievous smile. He looked to the sky and than said with a sneer: "I havn't had beer for a while.".
The peasants where revolting as the cleric with the hook ran a ring of shame around our leaders throats.
I will always remember my forefathers, men who fought through times of war. Remember their every sacrifice, at home and upon foreign shores.
*Warning - Not for the sensitive. * He had spent too long in the wild, unaccustomed now how to speak. Lost in the forest since he was a child, no longer a man but a freak.
Leave alone the cocaine son, always stick with the speed. And if you feel like getting drunk, then boy go smoke some weed. Masturbate and fornicate, but keep your tackle clean.
There is a veil of tears, A discomforting morbid shroud. It shadows the light within me, So I may not shine in the crowd. I wear a cloak of loneliness, It's fabric formed from pain.
Originally written eleven years ago today: A wound so deep has opened within my soul. Tormenting me while I sleep, and waking me into a world so cold.
"How did you find me?", he asked, with what little strength left in his breath. "How did you find me?", he asked once more, the effort bringing him closer to death.
Last night I gazed up at the sky, and saw a spaceship, way up high. It could have been a satellite, but they only travel from left to right.
America 1 - Saddam Hussain dead. When they toppled this leader, they pulled off his head. America 2 - The Taliban Dead. Insurgency followed, so they pay them instead. America 3 - Bin Laden dead.
If I was a cocktail, I'd be a: Dragons Breath. A fiery alcopop to some, to others a painful death. With Naga chilli extract, and crushed scotch bonnets too.
Here we face the future, Israel's finger on the button. They call themselves the lambs of god, though in truth the Devils Mutton. It's the threshold to Armageddon, as they prepare for war in the sand.
Fifty shades of emotion, that herald my dark devotion. It used to be speed that fed my need, now new rivers feed needs ocean. Perhaps once it was chaos, the thing upon which I fed.
I only knew him as Lenny, Leonard Frank Gardner was his name. Born in 1933, into the world, next door, he came. He lived there his whole lifetime, never married, had no kids.
Inspired by @sarahgamal I was sitting in my garden, where Weirdwolf's often sit. When I beheld a groovy "Comment", and thought: Man, this is it!.
He looked up to the heavens, said a prayer to the old gods and smiled. Gripping tight his two handed battle axe, he could hear the beast had been riled.
It had been a long time coming, he wasn't there because he was vain. He was there because he deserved it, and King Leelee was his name. The throne suited his bottom, as he suited the top.
I've got a naughty pussycat, she keeps catching butterflies. I think she has convinced herself they're birdies of small size. She stalks them on the lavender, they seem to like that spot.
Iselian was a jester, though not a natural clown. Born with harsh deformities, an odd ball of the town. An outcast from his village, now a servant of the throne.
He woke up feeling queazy, he woke up feeling strange. He felt somewhat uneasy, he could feel some kind of change. Where was this he'd awoken, because he wasn't in his bed.
I know that this is not a poem, But I always dreamed of shedding a tear whilst John Lennon sang. Epic!.
If I was mankind's saviour, disease would have no place. I would quickly eradicate cancer, and protect the human race. If I was mankind's saviour, I would see an end to war.
I guess you could call it empathy, perhaps it's a pact with Hell. An extra sensory sympathy, for dead men have stories to tell. Some kind of divination, from a primal place in my mind.
He could taste the blood in his mouth, and he knew that he was hurt. He could not feel below his waist, as he choked on the dust and dirt.
It won't be long until Yule, though some say it will be different this year. Perhaps I am just a fool, for letting rumours steer. Still I've made my preparations, and I've gathered my supplies.
Stay away from me September, you and I will nevertheless be friends. You fill my year with sadness, that lingers and never ends. Each year on your arrival, the sun is stolen from the sky.
Jesus was never a carpenter, for Jesus was never born. Just a vessel of herd conformity, To ensure that sheep are shorn. Jesus was never my saviour, common sense knows I wasn't there.
Ladies & Gentlemen!. Your winners for yesterday's household challenge are: In first place: @AWriterGirl with her excellent piece: An Essential Necessity.
L,l,l,ladies & Gentlemen!!. As you may have noticed I had OBVIOUS heatstroke earlier by thinking evolution happened in the household, personally I blame Spider Venom.
At last. There's sunshine for breakfast. I've an appointment with the lawn. Best I get my shorts on, cos' it looks like its gonna be warm.
#household Deep in the swamps of Louisiana lives a man called Banjo La'Munter. His momma was a Cajun beauty queen, his poppa a Gator hunter.
Locked away, no longer a man, solitary for all time. Locked away, no longer a man, punishment beyond its crime. Locked away, no longer a man, but an animal in a cage.
#household Skiing down slopes was a breeze, for Diego the Portuguese. He was simply the best, for no slope was a test, he could ski any mountain with ease.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1 Just look at how well you've done. I taught you well, while others fell. Oh isn't deception fun.
I follow the path of the wolf, to be his strong left hand. Finding myself from pillar to post, my time often lost to demand. Still I follow in its footsteps, and they lead me were I tread.
#loveopuss Opuss you have given us a quill that needs no ink. Opuss you have given us a page on which to think. Opuss you have given us a theatre and a stage.
There's a spaceship in my garden, it must have landed last night. I saw it there this morning, it didn't half give me a fright. I think it's a bit of a liberty, if they'd asked I wouldn't mind.
He stood at the crossroads, devoid of direction, A Rose he laid at his feet. Standing in silence, He savoured the moment, the ritual was now complete.
I've had enough of English summertime, it's getting on my nerves. With all the dreadful rainfall, far more than the season deserves.
The night will soon be upon me, like an imposing, unwelcome guest. I hate nothing more than sleeping alone, so again the night brings a test.
@OpussSmiles There is a smile, not seen in a while. A smile to make the heart sing. With lips that curve, a smile to serve, A kiss, such joy to bring.
He woke up early in an empty bed, his fingers all wrinkled like prunes. Trying to shake the song from his head, haunted by yesterday's tunes. The song was a song of hatred.
#nightdwellers He watched them from the shadows, his eyes locked tight to his prize. Soon the pair would go their separate ways, one of which soon to meet their demise.
If the men of England stood in revolutions name. Would the outside world hold our government to blame. Would united nations support us in our plight.
It was cold and wet in the trenches, the great war of 1914. Samuel was a soldier now, three days on the frontline, still 'green'. Not accustomed to the blood and dirt.
There was a sadness in his eyes, though it's depth could not be seen. Freedom only found in sleep, to sleep, a chance to dream. To sail on open waters, to fly amongst the stars.
Often did he linger, in the woodlands, late at night. Falgrim's footfall silent, as above the stars where bright. Something of uncertainty was breathing in his ear.
Just co's I ain't found no dead folk yet, Don't mean I ain't gonna fuck em. (Banjo Solo).
The hand of fate slapped his face with a grin. Now he must take part in a battle, that only someone else can win. ....... or lose. Washed away was his discontent.
He was mechanical in his actions, cataloguing each part. If he was to ever live again, he must build himself a heart. The one he had was rotten, had forgotten how to beat.
Scarification. Self mutilation. Born from the very depths of Frustration. No way out of a bad situation. Bleeding to set my soul free. Damnation. Religious condemnation.
It's raining again, quite heavily, and I've had a beer. I wish the downstairs toilet, was closer, far more near. It's like an army assault course, in the middle of the night.
Off with her head!!. The Seamonster fed. Once again Pure words could be read. Harmony reigned, the land again tamed. Nobody was guilty now, with nobody blamed.
He stepped into the sunshine, and he felt it on his skin. Like the kiss from a lost lover. Warming and embracing him from deep within. The shadows of his solitude, where left behind inside.
I take little pleasure in being unkind. I don't particularly like being cruel. But one thing I like far less than both, is being taken for a fool.
Lady Frankenstein's monster, was not quite what you would expect. It was not made of 'body parts', but 'other' parts instead. Bits and pieces here and there, arranged in different ways.
He was wet. He was cold. He was hungry. His blood craving nicotine. His mood was as dark as the clouds in the sky, as he thought of what could have been. He could have been a contender.
"I can hear your thoughts when I look at you, that is when we are in the same room.
Warriors and Wordsmiths. The Sword and the Pen. The making and the breaking and the fashioning of men. The memory of hero's, and tales of the dead. Forever unspoken, now written instead.
The Chaos Gods where grinning. Blind and maddened they smiled. Through the incantations of the Sorcerer, the Chaos Gods had been riled. Cthulhu, dead but dreaming, started stirring in the depths.
Fear replaced the fading dream, the moment of waking spoiled. The sudden realisation of where he was, and how he became embroiled. He saw it as his duty, to stand up and protect his men.
#tshirt Original Poets Use Serious Software.
The battle of Damascus, lasted only seven days. Airstrike after airstrike, bombed it back to the stone age. There was now no chance that history could ever know the truth.
He was dead when he woke up, barely alive when he went to sleep. He had said in prayer that evening, ".....the lord my soul to keep." Here now though, in Purgatory, with not a cloud in sight.
There goes a smile, a face I will never forget. There goes a friend, a friend I had never met. There goes an inspiration. Now wilts the rarest Rose. Such a tragic end to a beautiful beginning.
Be still. Be silent. Be calm. Be tranquil of mind. Be patient. Be ready. Be strong. Be well defined. Be pure of heart. Be vigilant. Be valiant. Be brave. Be unbound. Be unshackled. Be free.
The engraving took several hours, this was not something to be rushed. The device designed in silence, whilst every sound was hushed. It had to be symmetrical, it had to be precise.
Oh, so you want me to be serious. But I cant be serious you said. Last night you called me pathetic. Sick of the shit you where fed. Look at us today then, when old rivalries are renewed.
At last. I admire her honesty. I knew it. Now she's free. Mind racing. Heart thumping. She's crying. Inside a little piece of me's dying. Gotta be strong. No time to shatter. Listen to Metallica.
The Dutch gas mask fitted nicely, and a bargain at the cost. Only £4.50, without it his life would be lost. Even the N.B.C suit, that was £4.50 too. Nuclear-Biological-Chemical suit.
Tic-tock, tic-tock, time was running out. Tic-tock, tic-tock, he frantically rushed about. Tic-tock, tic-tock, there where only moments left. Tic-tock, tic-tock, his senses where bereft.
*Swear words and stuff* Things to do before I die..... Kill 100,000 Zombies. Not on Left 4 Dead, 4 Real. Crush some fuckers skull in, to rescue a baby seal.
A 'niggle' between his shoulder blades, like the twitching of unseen wings. Someone just stepped through the doorway. It was one of those 'Channeling' things.
Woman are the sexual predators. Women take the lead these days. Wherever there's a strong man, there is a woman at the reigns. So here is my predicament, I'm ready to 'Jump Ship'.
Over 300 followers, never more than 30+ likes. I thank those of you who are bothered, To like the stuff that I write. But I doubt now the legitimacy, of all but a few.
It will be known as 'Black Wednesday', the first Wednesday of June. It will always live in the memory, and I fear it comes too soon. I cannot tell you why it will, be such a tragic day.
"How does it taste, defeat. I have never tasted it myself, at least not in it's finality." The Witchfinder removed the gag from his mouth. Just a cough, and a splutter, releasing backed up sick.
He stripped himself naked, beneath the pale moon. The cold exciting his skin. He knew the change was upon him soon. He knew soon the change would begin.
Now milk tasted bitter, far more sweeter was the blood. And he thought it was a Shitter, co's he thought of all, that Milk was good. Never mind, he thought to himself. I'm off out tomorrow night.
'You sneaky little buggers!', the wise old dragon thought. With one eye barely open, he had spotted a man and his dwarf*.