Memories
Memories of a life only half begun yet feels like a lifetime lived.
Growing up with the hardships faced and the blessings embraced.
The child care free now is the adult with responsibilities.
Fighting and loving all while trying to find oneself.
High school an weed seemed to go hand in hand.
Jail and hate, time and growth, the wall my only friend.
Times change an people grow yet an odd comfort remains.
Infatuation, stimulation, the feeling of the adrenaline.
Love lost and love found, a repetative cycle of pain and pleasure.
The feeling of bliss and the joy that follows my dreams.
Hope finds a way to remain, or death will surely follow.
The memories of life follow us like the sun stalking the morning. The good and bad both go hand an hand. It's part of life and must be embraced for growth. Revel in the beauty of it or fall into the shadows.
By Matthew Branton
Monday, August 23, 2010
The dream 8-21-10
The dream
I stood on the dock watching the cloaked man stand on the boat pulling the chain again and again to bring the boat across the river. The waters were dark and the fog deep. You couldn't even see the shore on the other side. This land has always been a dark place of sorrow, I hope the other side of the river is brighter. As the boat came to dock I had a bad feeling as I stepped onto it. The voice in my head screamed telling me this wasn't right. And as the cloaked man told me to have a seat and get comfortable I saw nothing but his eyes. Cold desolate eyes that brought chills to my bones. It was such a dark feeling that in the shock of it instead of running I just took a seat. He pulled the chain again and again pulling the boat across the river. He said nothing even as the fog made the land dissapear. It was truly unsettling to not be able to see the land on either side, only the black waters and fog rolling by. It was like time slowed to a crawl and I asked the man how long till we reach the other side. His reply was only silence as he continued to pull away. I decided to just rest my eyes and sleep the time away untill I was startled awake only to realize that the man had dissapeared. The boat lay motionless in the water and still no sight of land. I felt the chill of darkness and evil flow over me. I grabbed the chain and started to pull again and again in a frantic state to get to the other side but it never came. It was a useless task to continue so I just sat down to think and calm myself. I didn't know where I was but I knew it wasn't right. An odd thought crossed over my mind that in a way this journey across this lake has been like my journey through life and suddenly the man appeared before me motionless. Like he responded directly to my thoughts. So I continued to think that the only way to make my life brighter was to change and poof the man started to pull the chain and move the boat and the fog started to drift away. I continued to think about my life and events, love come and love gone, childhood memories and change. And as I did the journey across that lake got brighter. And as I saw the shore in the distance I turned to the man and said "so this was my time to grow" and he looked at me and pulled his cloak back revealing his face showing a grey haired creature that was no man but only a wayward spirit and it said to me, "by your own choice you made this journey and by your own heart you succeeded and cause of your own love you'll lose her". Strange words to hear. And as I looked toward the shore again I saw you. Your hair flowing with the breeze, brown eyes staring back at me, perfection in every sense of the word. And as I stepped on to that shore and walked toward your beauty I realized that because you were perfect you were out of my reach and BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ I woke up in a startle hammering away at the alarm clock. It was all a dream. But you were there, like a rose at the end of a journey. Today is a new day with much learned but even now the thought of you just makes me smile.
By Matthew Branton
I stood on the dock watching the cloaked man stand on the boat pulling the chain again and again to bring the boat across the river. The waters were dark and the fog deep. You couldn't even see the shore on the other side. This land has always been a dark place of sorrow, I hope the other side of the river is brighter. As the boat came to dock I had a bad feeling as I stepped onto it. The voice in my head screamed telling me this wasn't right. And as the cloaked man told me to have a seat and get comfortable I saw nothing but his eyes. Cold desolate eyes that brought chills to my bones. It was such a dark feeling that in the shock of it instead of running I just took a seat. He pulled the chain again and again pulling the boat across the river. He said nothing even as the fog made the land dissapear. It was truly unsettling to not be able to see the land on either side, only the black waters and fog rolling by. It was like time slowed to a crawl and I asked the man how long till we reach the other side. His reply was only silence as he continued to pull away. I decided to just rest my eyes and sleep the time away untill I was startled awake only to realize that the man had dissapeared. The boat lay motionless in the water and still no sight of land. I felt the chill of darkness and evil flow over me. I grabbed the chain and started to pull again and again in a frantic state to get to the other side but it never came. It was a useless task to continue so I just sat down to think and calm myself. I didn't know where I was but I knew it wasn't right. An odd thought crossed over my mind that in a way this journey across this lake has been like my journey through life and suddenly the man appeared before me motionless. Like he responded directly to my thoughts. So I continued to think that the only way to make my life brighter was to change and poof the man started to pull the chain and move the boat and the fog started to drift away. I continued to think about my life and events, love come and love gone, childhood memories and change. And as I did the journey across that lake got brighter. And as I saw the shore in the distance I turned to the man and said "so this was my time to grow" and he looked at me and pulled his cloak back revealing his face showing a grey haired creature that was no man but only a wayward spirit and it said to me, "by your own choice you made this journey and by your own heart you succeeded and cause of your own love you'll lose her". Strange words to hear. And as I looked toward the shore again I saw you. Your hair flowing with the breeze, brown eyes staring back at me, perfection in every sense of the word. And as I stepped on to that shore and walked toward your beauty I realized that because you were perfect you were out of my reach and BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ I woke up in a startle hammering away at the alarm clock. It was all a dream. But you were there, like a rose at the end of a journey. Today is a new day with much learned but even now the thought of you just makes me smile.
By Matthew Branton
The gallows 8-19-10
The gallows
Ive been standing at the gallows watching the dead swing. There faces permanently hold the last expression as death took hold of them. The flesh decayed and the crows pick away. They are left to swing away as the ocean breeze blows. To show all the punishment for there crimes. I stand here alone thinking to myself that these people hang for being free, they made a choice to live life by there own rules. There lifes may have been short but at least it was well lived. I belive in the purpose that they died for regaurdless of what society believes. People live daily lifes in a cage, wether it's the cages of society or the cages they make for themselves. The ones I see hanging before me are free and lived free as I must do. I will not settle for a cage made by society or man. I'm living free and moving on, if I end up at the gallows so be it, it's better than a life unlived.
By Matthew Branton
Ive been standing at the gallows watching the dead swing. There faces permanently hold the last expression as death took hold of them. The flesh decayed and the crows pick away. They are left to swing away as the ocean breeze blows. To show all the punishment for there crimes. I stand here alone thinking to myself that these people hang for being free, they made a choice to live life by there own rules. There lifes may have been short but at least it was well lived. I belive in the purpose that they died for regaurdless of what society believes. People live daily lifes in a cage, wether it's the cages of society or the cages they make for themselves. The ones I see hanging before me are free and lived free as I must do. I will not settle for a cage made by society or man. I'm living free and moving on, if I end up at the gallows so be it, it's better than a life unlived.
By Matthew Branton
Last drive 8-11-10
Last drive
I went for a drive like I've done countless times befor. I checked my pressures an fluids, she was ready an willing to be pushed hard and flogged in the canyons. She loved it as much as I did, it wasn't just driving a machine it was like being between the sheets with a lover. I knew her and she knew me, we looked after each other.
Like many drives before it wasn't done just for the joy of it but it was my therapy. It calmed me and allowed my mind to relax.
The drive to the canyons was nice an slow and was used to mentally prepare myself for the drive. To go over what I had learned and prepare my mind for the unknown. But in the back of my head I had a feeling I should turn around. I've had it before but i can never cave in to the fear. That's all it was anyhow. I could never live with myself wondering what if. I have to push it.
We got to the canyons and I took a deep breath, said some nice words to her and patted the dash to ease her. The drives about to begin.....turn one open her up a bit and get the tires going, feeling the g-forces pulling forwards and backwards and side to side going through the hills. Were pushing 70% it's time to drop the hammer and go full tilt, push myself past the breaking point and feel the instincts of the trained mind take over.
On the ragged edge we were no room for error, no mistake. Perfection or almost certain death. I've done it countless times before. As I was rounding the blind corner, car in a set an tires scrambling for traction there they came. Two dipshits racing side by side down the mountain in my lane. I knew what was next, it was all slow motion to me an I saw every moment with the clarity of unprecidented precission.
The one in my lane panicked and slammed on the brakes like a fool. He was already using his tires to turn there was nothing left to stop with an so he slid into the rear of the other car. In a fraction of a second they became one. My mind still analyzing hoping for a gap to drive through but nothing. I stayed true to my line and said goodbye cause I'm about to die.
We hit with a combined speed of 120mph joining all three cars as one sending us all down the mountain over the cliff. Surprisingly I didn't die in the impact. I went barreling down the mountain, glass and dirt flying. Sparks turning to flames. And as the flames engulfed me I thought to myself I should have turned back and listened to my gut but then I realized that if I did I would have always wondered and I can't live with that. The last thought to go through my mind before the explosion destroyed us was at least I'm going out driving instead of some schmuck having sex. I couldn't have asked for it any differently........
By Matthew Branton
I went for a drive like I've done countless times befor. I checked my pressures an fluids, she was ready an willing to be pushed hard and flogged in the canyons. She loved it as much as I did, it wasn't just driving a machine it was like being between the sheets with a lover. I knew her and she knew me, we looked after each other.
Like many drives before it wasn't done just for the joy of it but it was my therapy. It calmed me and allowed my mind to relax.
The drive to the canyons was nice an slow and was used to mentally prepare myself for the drive. To go over what I had learned and prepare my mind for the unknown. But in the back of my head I had a feeling I should turn around. I've had it before but i can never cave in to the fear. That's all it was anyhow. I could never live with myself wondering what if. I have to push it.
We got to the canyons and I took a deep breath, said some nice words to her and patted the dash to ease her. The drives about to begin.....turn one open her up a bit and get the tires going, feeling the g-forces pulling forwards and backwards and side to side going through the hills. Were pushing 70% it's time to drop the hammer and go full tilt, push myself past the breaking point and feel the instincts of the trained mind take over.
On the ragged edge we were no room for error, no mistake. Perfection or almost certain death. I've done it countless times before. As I was rounding the blind corner, car in a set an tires scrambling for traction there they came. Two dipshits racing side by side down the mountain in my lane. I knew what was next, it was all slow motion to me an I saw every moment with the clarity of unprecidented precission.
The one in my lane panicked and slammed on the brakes like a fool. He was already using his tires to turn there was nothing left to stop with an so he slid into the rear of the other car. In a fraction of a second they became one. My mind still analyzing hoping for a gap to drive through but nothing. I stayed true to my line and said goodbye cause I'm about to die.
We hit with a combined speed of 120mph joining all three cars as one sending us all down the mountain over the cliff. Surprisingly I didn't die in the impact. I went barreling down the mountain, glass and dirt flying. Sparks turning to flames. And as the flames engulfed me I thought to myself I should have turned back and listened to my gut but then I realized that if I did I would have always wondered and I can't live with that. The last thought to go through my mind before the explosion destroyed us was at least I'm going out driving instead of some schmuck having sex. I couldn't have asked for it any differently........
By Matthew Branton
Oh the beauty of it 8-5-10
Oh the beauty of it!
Your sultry curves, gentle an flowing like a 56 chevy.
The way your hips curve and the lines that define your ass are like none I've ever seen.
Long legs with sweet thighs I can't help but carress.
Lips full with a smile that brings the room to life.
Breasts full with a nice shape and god is your skin smooth. Mmm Mmm
Words just can't describe your beauty, it's simpler put to say youre hot!
The simple things others may take for granted, they are only after it for themselves.
Me I'm here cause I choose to be, not cause I'm after something.
I don't need to bone you to enjoy you, that is just a bonus if it comes and i will just exhaust myself making sure you are pleased so now its just furthest from my mind.
I enjoy the simple things like a smile on your face, the way your hair flows.
The way you move and the simple carress here an there.
I'm not hard to please. I find pleasure in pleasing you.
Oh these may just be words to some but it's a lifestyle for me.
I'm just cruising enjoying your scenery.
By Matthew Branton
Your sultry curves, gentle an flowing like a 56 chevy.
The way your hips curve and the lines that define your ass are like none I've ever seen.
Long legs with sweet thighs I can't help but carress.
Lips full with a smile that brings the room to life.
Breasts full with a nice shape and god is your skin smooth. Mmm Mmm
Words just can't describe your beauty, it's simpler put to say youre hot!
The simple things others may take for granted, they are only after it for themselves.
Me I'm here cause I choose to be, not cause I'm after something.
I don't need to bone you to enjoy you, that is just a bonus if it comes and i will just exhaust myself making sure you are pleased so now its just furthest from my mind.
I enjoy the simple things like a smile on your face, the way your hair flows.
The way you move and the simple carress here an there.
I'm not hard to please. I find pleasure in pleasing you.
Oh these may just be words to some but it's a lifestyle for me.
I'm just cruising enjoying your scenery.
By Matthew Branton
Good ol days 8-1-10
Good ol days
I remember the good ol days with vintage jukeboxes an real soda fountains. Shakes you couldn't finish cause they were too damn big. Gas was cheap, an the freeways clear. Bench seats weren't just for loving but for racing too. Cruising the boardwalk was legal an the thing to do. Passion an love filled the air just cruising without a care. The bars were a hopping an the food was good. It was just the thing to do. Simple loving just for tonight, then back to the grind of the daily life. AM stereos playing there tunes. Tuck & roll interior was hot an smooth. The bands had horns that knew what to do. Music that we could actualy dance too. The suits were a stylin an the fedoras were in. The betties an marilyn's all over the place. Those were the good ol days.
By Matthew Branton
I remember the good ol days with vintage jukeboxes an real soda fountains. Shakes you couldn't finish cause they were too damn big. Gas was cheap, an the freeways clear. Bench seats weren't just for loving but for racing too. Cruising the boardwalk was legal an the thing to do. Passion an love filled the air just cruising without a care. The bars were a hopping an the food was good. It was just the thing to do. Simple loving just for tonight, then back to the grind of the daily life. AM stereos playing there tunes. Tuck & roll interior was hot an smooth. The bands had horns that knew what to do. Music that we could actualy dance too. The suits were a stylin an the fedoras were in. The betties an marilyn's all over the place. Those were the good ol days.
By Matthew Branton
My dad 7-30-10
My Dad
I called you the other day. It wasn't the first, it won't be the last. It's instinctual. You weren't only my friend, you were my guide and inspiration. Like a light you led my way. A gentle nudge here, a smack upside the head there. Exactly what I needed at the time. I'd call in times of happieness and sorrow and you were always there. You were a driver and you could wheel a car with the best of them. The joyful memories I have of us racing and you're teachings I'll forever cherish. Damn you were good an we would push it racing in the hills. God I miss our drives. You were a dancer with a gift that brought the room to life. They would line up just to dance with you, soulful an smooth. You were a pimp with the ladies hot damn! Lol A heart so big with wisdom to fill the ages. Taken befor you're time yet you made such a huge impact on everyone around you. The cancer was too strong. I'll never forget our last conversation or the smile you gave me. A driver, a dancer, a writer, a father, a husband, a friend, an inspiration. I love you and miss you more than I can explain. It wasn't the first time I tried to call you an it won't be the last. The drives for you dad. Love ya, Matt.
By Matthew Branton
I called you the other day. It wasn't the first, it won't be the last. It's instinctual. You weren't only my friend, you were my guide and inspiration. Like a light you led my way. A gentle nudge here, a smack upside the head there. Exactly what I needed at the time. I'd call in times of happieness and sorrow and you were always there. You were a driver and you could wheel a car with the best of them. The joyful memories I have of us racing and you're teachings I'll forever cherish. Damn you were good an we would push it racing in the hills. God I miss our drives. You were a dancer with a gift that brought the room to life. They would line up just to dance with you, soulful an smooth. You were a pimp with the ladies hot damn! Lol A heart so big with wisdom to fill the ages. Taken befor you're time yet you made such a huge impact on everyone around you. The cancer was too strong. I'll never forget our last conversation or the smile you gave me. A driver, a dancer, a writer, a father, a husband, a friend, an inspiration. I love you and miss you more than I can explain. It wasn't the first time I tried to call you an it won't be the last. The drives for you dad. Love ya, Matt.
By Matthew Branton
The man in the room 7-27-10
The man in the room
There is a room. And inside that room there is a man. Sitting alone, the smoke from his cigarette lingers almost motionless as he stares at the papers on his desk. His writing scattered about, unfinished like the morning cup of coffee. He shuffles through the papers trying to find something worthy to finish but it's all junk. He needs something worthy, something whole. But his mind is as cluttered as his desk. No point of origin he gets frustrated. His actions confuse him, he isn't himself.
He grows frustrated with every repetative day that passes. Nothing completed, the room lay vacant an the stagnant smoke fills his nostrils. He needs a masterpeice. A piece of artistic writing on paper that truly moves his readers in a profound an uncanny way.
Then one day it struck him. He went to the art supply store for paper to cover his wall. Bright white paper wall to wall, floor to ceiling. He set up his tripod in the corner, camera mounted. The noose hung from the rafters. And as the camera clicked away automatically he pushed the chair away while simultainously pulling the trigger of that colt .45 blowing his head all over the wall.
The man in the room. The stagnant smoke. Blood and brains slowly flowed to the floor on that white wall. He hung there while the camera clicked away till the batteries died. He finally got his masterpiece. A work of art that truly moved people. His mind was more at piece on that wall then in his head. Truly a shame though, that in his dissarray he forgot the memory card. No pictures saved. His art will just fade away, never saved. No one even came to investigate the sound. Alone in life an now alone in death. The man in the room who now just rots away.
By Matthew Branton
There is a room. And inside that room there is a man. Sitting alone, the smoke from his cigarette lingers almost motionless as he stares at the papers on his desk. His writing scattered about, unfinished like the morning cup of coffee. He shuffles through the papers trying to find something worthy to finish but it's all junk. He needs something worthy, something whole. But his mind is as cluttered as his desk. No point of origin he gets frustrated. His actions confuse him, he isn't himself.
He grows frustrated with every repetative day that passes. Nothing completed, the room lay vacant an the stagnant smoke fills his nostrils. He needs a masterpeice. A piece of artistic writing on paper that truly moves his readers in a profound an uncanny way.
Then one day it struck him. He went to the art supply store for paper to cover his wall. Bright white paper wall to wall, floor to ceiling. He set up his tripod in the corner, camera mounted. The noose hung from the rafters. And as the camera clicked away automatically he pushed the chair away while simultainously pulling the trigger of that colt .45 blowing his head all over the wall.
The man in the room. The stagnant smoke. Blood and brains slowly flowed to the floor on that white wall. He hung there while the camera clicked away till the batteries died. He finally got his masterpiece. A work of art that truly moved people. His mind was more at piece on that wall then in his head. Truly a shame though, that in his dissarray he forgot the memory card. No pictures saved. His art will just fade away, never saved. No one even came to investigate the sound. Alone in life an now alone in death. The man in the room who now just rots away.
By Matthew Branton
Mmmm 7-26-10
Mmmm
I see you, you're eyes wandering over then darting away, then staring back at me. An me unable to look away. You try and control it but you can't ignore it. It's primal, it calls from our senses. We can't explain the attraction but it's there, pulling an tugging till it slaps us in the face. I step outside, to gather my thoughts. Control. Must control. But oh these primal instincts. Maybe it's the pheramones calling to each other, maybe it's the way you're hips move, the soft lines that follow you're curves, the way you're lips glisten as you drink, you're voice. Maybe it's you're eyes, I can feel them peering into me like you know me an I dig it. An I see right back. I see you're torn, you want to be good but the craving lingers on, and the freedom you desire I can sense it. You here it all the time, that you're hot. You know it, you feel it. Ah these primal senses that pull us together. You're lips most elegant and alluring an taste oh so sweet, how I desire to be inside you're world. But it can't be yet freedom calls you, I call you. Oh this attraction may be for tonight an then leave us but the kiss will linger on in our memories. Just as this attraction stimulates my senses an intrigues me. Hmm time will only tell weather we will meet again and the attraction remains. Time won't change pheramones so time may be our friend. Till next time
By Matthew Branton
I see you, you're eyes wandering over then darting away, then staring back at me. An me unable to look away. You try and control it but you can't ignore it. It's primal, it calls from our senses. We can't explain the attraction but it's there, pulling an tugging till it slaps us in the face. I step outside, to gather my thoughts. Control. Must control. But oh these primal instincts. Maybe it's the pheramones calling to each other, maybe it's the way you're hips move, the soft lines that follow you're curves, the way you're lips glisten as you drink, you're voice. Maybe it's you're eyes, I can feel them peering into me like you know me an I dig it. An I see right back. I see you're torn, you want to be good but the craving lingers on, and the freedom you desire I can sense it. You here it all the time, that you're hot. You know it, you feel it. Ah these primal senses that pull us together. You're lips most elegant and alluring an taste oh so sweet, how I desire to be inside you're world. But it can't be yet freedom calls you, I call you. Oh this attraction may be for tonight an then leave us but the kiss will linger on in our memories. Just as this attraction stimulates my senses an intrigues me. Hmm time will only tell weather we will meet again and the attraction remains. Time won't change pheramones so time may be our friend. Till next time
By Matthew Branton
Your escape 7-25-10
You're escape
I am the one you seek for an escape, A simple tool to get away.
I am but a thought that passes through you're mind at the strangest times.
I am not what you seek for life, I'm just a man, free an true.
I give my love, if only for an hour or two, Just to see the light of you.
I have no expectations, I am no fool. I just have a heart that's willing to love an be free.
Like two ships that pass in the night, embrace and revel in the beauty of that moment.
Even if it is but one moment, I'll take it for what it is.
Don't be surprised though if i bring forth a feeling inside you that you can't fight.
Just embrace it for the now. If only for a moment.
I am not afraid of love, an I can give you a lifetimes worth in a single night.
I may confuse you, it's not my intention.
I'm just not afraid to be honest an true, an give love just cause you're you.
There are no expectations, I only encourage you to be you.
A free spirit beautiful an true.
When you are, you may not see it. But all eyes in the room are drawn to you.
A simple yet powerful thing love may be.
An I am but a man, no fear, no regrets.
I'm free an true an willing to embrace the love that flows from you if only for a moment or two.
So I am hear, doors open, engine a purring waiting on you.
Ready to cruise anywhere an no where with you.
Can you embrace the moment for what it is? Be free an true.
Or accept the cage which surrounds you.
Either way I'm here, you're one escape.
By Matthew Branton
I am the one you seek for an escape, A simple tool to get away.
I am but a thought that passes through you're mind at the strangest times.
I am not what you seek for life, I'm just a man, free an true.
I give my love, if only for an hour or two, Just to see the light of you.
I have no expectations, I am no fool. I just have a heart that's willing to love an be free.
Like two ships that pass in the night, embrace and revel in the beauty of that moment.
Even if it is but one moment, I'll take it for what it is.
Don't be surprised though if i bring forth a feeling inside you that you can't fight.
Just embrace it for the now. If only for a moment.
I am not afraid of love, an I can give you a lifetimes worth in a single night.
I may confuse you, it's not my intention.
I'm just not afraid to be honest an true, an give love just cause you're you.
There are no expectations, I only encourage you to be you.
A free spirit beautiful an true.
When you are, you may not see it. But all eyes in the room are drawn to you.
A simple yet powerful thing love may be.
An I am but a man, no fear, no regrets.
I'm free an true an willing to embrace the love that flows from you if only for a moment or two.
So I am hear, doors open, engine a purring waiting on you.
Ready to cruise anywhere an no where with you.
Can you embrace the moment for what it is? Be free an true.
Or accept the cage which surrounds you.
Either way I'm here, you're one escape.
By Matthew Branton
Me and my nova 7-23-10
Me an my nova
The wheels are spinning, asphalt flowing by.
Reflection of the lights glimmer and shine off her beautiful skin.
Through the hills she takes me, the lights of the city below.
I picture a time of simplicity that came before me.
No perticular place to go, just letting her flow to wherever that V8 takes me.
The brakes are good and the tires are fair.
The tank is full and the wax fresh. The limits are endless, me an my nova cruising the streets.
Funny that this steel brings so much pleasure, personality all her own.
She's got soul and class, people wave as she glides by.
Oldies are special, they bring us together.
All walks of life an color, gender an social standing.
It doesn't matter when it comes to cars.
From 34 fords to 39 Chevys. Novas to cudas, mustangs to tri-fives.
There's something about them, you just end up grinning.
Me an my nova, cruising the streets.
By Matthew Branton
The wheels are spinning, asphalt flowing by.
Reflection of the lights glimmer and shine off her beautiful skin.
Through the hills she takes me, the lights of the city below.
I picture a time of simplicity that came before me.
No perticular place to go, just letting her flow to wherever that V8 takes me.
The brakes are good and the tires are fair.
The tank is full and the wax fresh. The limits are endless, me an my nova cruising the streets.
Funny that this steel brings so much pleasure, personality all her own.
She's got soul and class, people wave as she glides by.
Oldies are special, they bring us together.
All walks of life an color, gender an social standing.
It doesn't matter when it comes to cars.
From 34 fords to 39 Chevys. Novas to cudas, mustangs to tri-fives.
There's something about them, you just end up grinning.
Me an my nova, cruising the streets.
By Matthew Branton
The eyes 6-10
The eyes, they see through you, they know you're truth. The touch, the feeling it provoked. You lost control, words flowed from you but they were just lustful words of deciept. Spoken words to many but you just led them on, unknowing the damage you caused for you don't even know youreself. But these eyes, you must understand, aren't merely given to see. They are tools which I have employed in strategic manners in order to stay alive. It's a habit I've been unable to break. So I watch, peering into you unraveling the layers an deciphering the code which is you're very existance. Learning you're truths. I have been rite an I have been wrong but these eyes of mine learn. And they don't just look at you're shell, they long for you're core. You feel it, I can sense it. The shame, you feel me peeling you away exposing you to youreself. You're wants, desires, you're sexual longing. Those you've hurt to satisfy these needs, an you only lie to youreself. Ahhh these eyes have seen more than just you though. They have seen the rage of man, the hatred that flows through the streets. They have seen the calm beauty before the storm. The bliss of the trees seen through the grassy haze of a clouded mind. Oh an the love these eyes have seen you couldn't comprehend. For I am not only blessed but cursed for I have seen an felt the love of many not just my own. My heart has always been a vacant vessel willing to hold an find love an willing to deal with the pain. These eyes of mine, don't forget, see more than just you're shell. They learn an peel you away to expose the core which you protect. They see you're pain an they know you, every last inch. Give in to these eyes for they will only give you love in return.
By Matthew Branton
By Matthew Branton
The drive 6-10
The drive
To some it's a sport, to others it's a passion.
Some live for the race and others find joy in the preperation.
Some find the hobby in the precission required for the beauty of the drift or the sliding art of the rally.
Some search for the adrenaline rush of the kamikaze, pushing it to the edge of themselves.
Some there minds are challenged in the quest of engineering and physics required for perfection.
Some the thrill is found in the chase, pushing and banging for the lead.
Nothing matters but the win.
There are many reasons we do what we do, most people won't understand the driver or the wrencher.
Cars are like women, you treat them right and they will bring you a joy greater than sex.
You mistreat them, they will kick you to the curb and empty you're bank account.
For me, driving is something that's hard to explain, and the reasons I've never spoke of.
The truth is, I've searched and searched for the ultimate corner, it's a quest that gives me something you may find hard to comprehend.
When I push it, running the ragged edge of adhession and beyond.
When traction is lost and yet the car stays true to the line.
Heart pumping like a cannon in my cheast.
the trained mind takes over in an instincual manner.
It's primal and frightening to the senses.
Pushing myself beyond my limits, it becomes like a dream.
it's like my body is fluid and it has become one with the car.
it's the closest I've ever felt to death without dying and the closest to God I can get without taking that journey.
That's why I do it, the real reason. I love it, it's driving for me and only me. It's pure bliss
By Matthew Branton
To some it's a sport, to others it's a passion.
Some live for the race and others find joy in the preperation.
Some find the hobby in the precission required for the beauty of the drift or the sliding art of the rally.
Some search for the adrenaline rush of the kamikaze, pushing it to the edge of themselves.
Some there minds are challenged in the quest of engineering and physics required for perfection.
Some the thrill is found in the chase, pushing and banging for the lead.
Nothing matters but the win.
There are many reasons we do what we do, most people won't understand the driver or the wrencher.
Cars are like women, you treat them right and they will bring you a joy greater than sex.
You mistreat them, they will kick you to the curb and empty you're bank account.
For me, driving is something that's hard to explain, and the reasons I've never spoke of.
The truth is, I've searched and searched for the ultimate corner, it's a quest that gives me something you may find hard to comprehend.
When I push it, running the ragged edge of adhession and beyond.
When traction is lost and yet the car stays true to the line.
Heart pumping like a cannon in my cheast.
the trained mind takes over in an instincual manner.
It's primal and frightening to the senses.
Pushing myself beyond my limits, it becomes like a dream.
it's like my body is fluid and it has become one with the car.
it's the closest I've ever felt to death without dying and the closest to God I can get without taking that journey.
That's why I do it, the real reason. I love it, it's driving for me and only me. It's pure bliss
By Matthew Branton
Beyond the wall 6-8-10
Beyond the wall
Trapped in this land alone and uncertain.
Can u sense it? The pure orgasmic bliss of rage.
Cold and desolate and oh so sweet as it peels the flesh away, exposing truth.
It's growing inside, becoming something this world was never meant to see.
And something I don't want to contain.
I heard rumors, about a place beyond the wall.
A place of peace and love, a fairytale.
You said we could be together there. Happy and free.
How foolish I must have been.
I tried to reach this land.
I peeled away myself, every layer of my existance till only the charred ragged bones remained.
Changed and contorted till I became something I'm not, all to please you.
But it was all in vain, it wasn't a change you seeked.
It was an end you longed for.
You searched, excuse after excuse, Communication lost.
Longing for the destination.
And me, I am but a fool to believe.
I reached this place of peace and you weren't there.
Alone I will sit, empty and dead.
The flesh peeled away, my insides scattered to the winds.
Bones picked clean an only my eyes remain.
They see the truth of you. They see the pain.
The lack of compassion, the twisted reality of lies you've created.
Forever they will see and forever I will sit, waiting for the one I once knew to return.
Foolish I am.
Alone I remain.
Waiting in the desolate existance of love.
By Matthew Branton
Trapped in this land alone and uncertain.
Can u sense it? The pure orgasmic bliss of rage.
Cold and desolate and oh so sweet as it peels the flesh away, exposing truth.
It's growing inside, becoming something this world was never meant to see.
And something I don't want to contain.
I heard rumors, about a place beyond the wall.
A place of peace and love, a fairytale.
You said we could be together there. Happy and free.
How foolish I must have been.
I tried to reach this land.
I peeled away myself, every layer of my existance till only the charred ragged bones remained.
Changed and contorted till I became something I'm not, all to please you.
But it was all in vain, it wasn't a change you seeked.
It was an end you longed for.
You searched, excuse after excuse, Communication lost.
Longing for the destination.
And me, I am but a fool to believe.
I reached this place of peace and you weren't there.
Alone I will sit, empty and dead.
The flesh peeled away, my insides scattered to the winds.
Bones picked clean an only my eyes remain.
They see the truth of you. They see the pain.
The lack of compassion, the twisted reality of lies you've created.
Forever they will see and forever I will sit, waiting for the one I once knew to return.
Foolish I am.
Alone I remain.
Waiting in the desolate existance of love.
By Matthew Branton
The caged 5-23-10
We are but children, caged in silence unable to speak with no one to listen...
Forced into submission our feelings unheard like the plague that ravages our souls...
Screaming a silent scream slowly drifting toward the turbulent waters of insanity...
The chemicals flow through us like the Nile, distorting our perception of reality...
Creating, turning us into something were not...
Yet there is no escape from this cage, no foreseeable release toward peace...
The past is gone an unabtainable an only the unknowing future remains...
How do we remove these cages from our tattered existance?
We are becoming more, contorting into something never meant to be..
Reality is no more, it has been replaced only with more cages and fear..
We can't see or hear. Fear is filling the vacancy of our souls...
Our voices are no longer decipherable. They have been muted by the very existance of the insanity within..
We are many, we are you, we are me, we are everyone and no one all bundled up in a chaotic ball of fear and uncertaintity..
The key has always been there, only you my love have possessed it an only you can use it..
Free us from these cages and bring us back to one, back to sanity...
Bring us back to love, or curse us to solitude for all time...
The key has always been there and it has always been yours my love..
By Matthew Branton
Forced into submission our feelings unheard like the plague that ravages our souls...
Screaming a silent scream slowly drifting toward the turbulent waters of insanity...
The chemicals flow through us like the Nile, distorting our perception of reality...
Creating, turning us into something were not...
Yet there is no escape from this cage, no foreseeable release toward peace...
The past is gone an unabtainable an only the unknowing future remains...
How do we remove these cages from our tattered existance?
We are becoming more, contorting into something never meant to be..
Reality is no more, it has been replaced only with more cages and fear..
We can't see or hear. Fear is filling the vacancy of our souls...
Our voices are no longer decipherable. They have been muted by the very existance of the insanity within..
We are many, we are you, we are me, we are everyone and no one all bundled up in a chaotic ball of fear and uncertaintity..
The key has always been there, only you my love have possessed it an only you can use it..
Free us from these cages and bring us back to one, back to sanity...
Bring us back to love, or curse us to solitude for all time...
The key has always been there and it has always been yours my love..
By Matthew Branton
4-7-10
I woke up this morning, typical day. No worries and care free as I get dressed and drop two tabs for my adventure to school.
It was raining that day, it felt like a journey through the ocean, I've never felt so free.
I never made it to school, I got stuck on a park bench under a tree. Feeling the rain on my face, the blurry bliss of the green in the trees.
I've never felt so free.
2:30 came around and so did sobriety, as I headed over to a friends.
The sirens I heard in the distance, their howling seemed to be beckoning to my soul, calling me.
I knew something was wrong. As I ran toward the screams I saw her, a young love, my love.
Dead in the street, hit and run. I fell to my knees and screamed.
I was suppossed to meet her, but I was to care free.
I was suppossed to meet her, and now it will never be.
Lost for eternity
By Matthew Branton
It was raining that day, it felt like a journey through the ocean, I've never felt so free.
I never made it to school, I got stuck on a park bench under a tree. Feeling the rain on my face, the blurry bliss of the green in the trees.
I've never felt so free.
2:30 came around and so did sobriety, as I headed over to a friends.
The sirens I heard in the distance, their howling seemed to be beckoning to my soul, calling me.
I knew something was wrong. As I ran toward the screams I saw her, a young love, my love.
Dead in the street, hit and run. I fell to my knees and screamed.
I was suppossed to meet her, but I was to care free.
I was suppossed to meet her, and now it will never be.
Lost for eternity
By Matthew Branton
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