Forever And A Day

It's cold and rainy on the outside

With water specks and shivering trees

All I think about is you on the inside

And what things could be if I were free

Of how I could trip and fall for you

Forever and a day

I see your quiet fullness on occasion

Treading with an affirmative softness

All I think about is the act of your invasion

And what I could say to you in tenderness

Of how I could sing and write to you

Forever and a day

In front of you I can't help but be frail
There's a view in your eyes of heaven
And I think that my resolution will fail

What I could give to you in my dark haven

Of how I could hold and look at you

Forever and a day

As I lie awake in the shadows of my mind

Swimming in my rivers of creation
I see that you are a dream inside my wish

Of a reality more real than life

I wish I could tell you everything

With my hands in the fields of your hair

All that I think about is our eternal fling

And what we would share in our affair

Of how I could caress and kiss you

Forever and a day

Darling,

You are on the surface of my every thought

You are the words in all my dreams
And all I can think about

And all that I dare to

Is being in love with you

Forever and a day

Written by Byron P. Brassel

13 September 2013

Green Monster

Monstre Vert

Monstre Vert
Monstre Vert

Eyes search past the seen
Ears listen past the heard
Nose sniffs past the scent
Mouth tastes past the gorged
Chassis shivers at the imitator

Imitator!
Screams the pain of question
Body lashes the spurned
Soul is unwilling but eyes see green

Feet pull the earth
Legs drag the body
Following Green fallacy!
Shoulders, left and right
Head back
Following Green imaginary!

Imitator!
Screams the pain of question
Body lashes the spurned
Soul is unwilling but eyes see green

Aah
Eyes see green
Ah darling please, tell me there's no validation
I am the green-eyed monster
Eyes,
Wrong side, a rusted coin
Body lead by convicted conceit
Illusion deformed by antiquity
Savage antiquity,
Chews belief
Head back
Following Green

Aah Imitator!
Screams the pain of question
Body lashes the spurned,
Oh my red spurned
Aah soul is unwilling but eyes see green
Oh they see green

Darling please, rob my imagination
For I am the green-eyed monster
Hold me,
For I am the green-eyed-monster

Zelosus!
The larcenist
It ate my past
Drunkard of my future
Aah No! No! No!

Aah Imitator!
Screams the pain of question
Body lashes the spurned,
Oh my red spurned
Aah soul is unwilling but eyes see green
No more!

Green tears pour!
Eyes begin to see the spectrum
Crouched, my soul questions,
Body yearns!
Decide

Soul fights wretched antiquity
I fight the green-eyed monster,
It's so hard
I can't take this anymore!
The,
Seeds of denial
Roots of fear
Stems of shame
Branches of self-doubt

Aah no more!
Admission rain down
Green tree wither
Green tree die
Ah darling please, return to me
Oh return to me,
Your little monstre vert

Monstre Vert
Monstre Vert
Monstre Vert

Written by Byron P. Brassel
January 2011

Second Melody

Silence
The piano enters
It meanders and wonders, seemingly lost
Entranced by its own imaginarium
I hear it whispering to itself
Or to someone - in tangled notes, light
A thump, in the distance, in the past
Deep and profound, but where?
I sense a very pleasant unease
The oboe enters - finding, searching
As the atmosphere tenderly hums
The oboe and piano play together
Like ageless children in an aging time

Suddenly, something
The oboe departs
The piano unties its knotted chords
It speaks, alone, heartbroken, to every universe
With tears, the atmosphere joins
Together they move, they cry, tenderly
The harp enters - passive, fatherly
Listening to the confessions of agony
Touches of pain and pluckings of comfort
The two contort emotion and heal
Speaking of melodies, past and present
The atmosphere watches and weaves
The harp departs

Whispers
Just the piano
It begins to speak - new, slow
The words, soft - restored
The atmosphere begins a dream
With a sense of melancholy
Its solemn meanderings - quietly caress
Echoes of change, fused transitions
I hear its secrets in the darkness
Floating into some perfect sunrise
Words of conclusion play out
The piano departs
Silence


Written by Byron P. Brassel
Melodies
02 December 2012

Damsel In The Trees

Over in the waning wood, there she stands
Floating in the midst of the falling leaves
As the figures of green cut into the sun's vision
She hides inside her mind's submission
From the yearning, from a potential

Around her the musicians perform nature's score
With the sun conducting the specks of colours
As she remains in stillness, her hair dances
Dances to dreams of latent chances
This, this angelic imitation lost

Like a fallen angel in an ocean cloth
Her eyes search the known and unknown
As her body seduces nature into surrender
Fondling thoughts turn into that of a defender
A defender or the shadows of one

The love surrounds her in this baptism of beauty
With the kissing of lights and shadows
Patent mysteries entrance in foreplay
Fiddles of romance entice devoted fantasies
Of nature making love to her soul

The damsel, she searches antiquity for a future
To tapdance on a wave of speculative freedom
As to deafen a world with the silence of sight
And test the wisdom of love's ageless plight
All the while, the soul is inside the ball of life

After spending her hidden life in forests of romance
Her damsel dreams dream of muttering things
Singings, whisperings and sayings

With another angelic quintessence, a touch and a feel
To yearn and delve into those carnal eruptions
And to scream and sing to the music of love's zenith
To say and not think...
Eee-mihni, eee-mihni

The land, The people, The heritage
They call her but can she, run away?
The damsel in the trees with feathers in her hair
She is lost in the place where she belongs
Standing as nature forever sings her songs

Her soul races now, as she rides into the wind
Her mind and her body as one in search of another
As the great eagle flies over her trailing aura
And chants its sorrowful farewells
She becomes a rock that the world could break itself on


Written by Byron P. Brassel
29 November 2012

Yesterday's Tomorrow

Demain d'hier
Demain d'hier
Demain d'hier

I was walking down a swollen place
Constantly arriving in my own departure
As I turned to look at moving faces
I saw they were like a heaving river
With my blue-grey rags and tender feet
I felt like falling downward
In this civic distortion
I saw the motion and I felt the stillness

As I stood there all alone
I could see them slowly building
Building up all the walls
They find themselves quickly trapping
With this life, it's like a drumbox
I spend all my time pounding it
Never ceasing to play those notes
All I want is to want

Do we live in a departing present?
Or do we live in a present departure?

I began to walk around the sidewalk
Constantly departing from my own arrival
Yesterday's tomorrows, we live in today
The only thing I'm sure of is what's not certain
With this mind, this gracious lover
Our marriage takes wing
What's not quite certain is what's sure
Oh my thoughts, they start to sing

In the distance I could hear someone calling
I saw her see me from a phone-booth
As my mind spun further and closer
My emancipation paradox shuddered
With her voice, scared and sacred
I feel I no longer need the past
As it stuns me into raucous silence
I feel I no longer want the future

Are we trapped to be free?
Or are we free to be trapped?

Like a bird without wings
I began to wander to her blindly
In her presence I could see the infinite presents
That all the while had passed me by
With this notion, this sum of times
There were no more needs and no more wanting
Today's tomorrow is another tomorrow's yesterday
And today, I dare to dream

Demain d'hier
Demain d'hier
Demain d'hier


Written by Byron P. Brassel
Middlemist, I
30 October 2012

When I Hear You

There are tears in my jaded eyes
As I walk through the woods of dark greens
With soft breezes speaking to the trees
I can see the falling buildings in my heart
As blotches of undoings around me

The cold, dark night unfolds its mystery
As I saunter through its mind
I can feel ulterior lasers pierce me
My reflection sliding through their eyes
With every footstep, there goes my insulation

When I hear you, I can feel all my pain
When I hear you, I can feel all my shame

In the distance, over the soft mound
I hear the music of all things past
Sweet melodies, wind and waters
Guiding me in and out of those memories
Of twisting and obscure stagnations
Of speckled tears

When I hear you, I can feel all my downfalls
When I hear you, I can feel all my advances

My eyes catch sight of the deep blue sky
Violet wavelets meeting melancholy oranges
Gentle pinks hold onto lurid purples
The sun leaves its memory indented in the sky
I hear the sounds of light touching the clouds
And I hear her whisper to me

When I hear you, I can feel all my ugliness
When I hear you, I can feel all my tenderness

So sweet and tender, like mother and child
The colours hold on and play
Round and round, the whites and violets tumble
Up and down, they dance to the sun's memory
She whispers with the dancing colours

When I hear you, I can feel all my feelings
When I hear you, I can feel all my life

I can feel myself flying in the water
As every wave sings to the memory
I can feel the pain slowly subsiding 
No bridges
No walls
No impurity
As my heart sings inside me
I begin to fall into the sky
Into the deep blue sky

Gliding and spinning through the clouds
I see the ocean of colours
As they make love to obscurity
As soft as the child's skin
I hear her whisper
When I hear you, I can feel all my agony
Disappear

There is no more evasion
No more late nights with tears in my pillow
No more lunchtime beatings
Together we strangle loneliness
No more nails
No more screaming
No more bleeding
No more isolation
No more, no more
No more again
No more, no more
No more again
When I hear you

When I hear you, I can feel all my reasons
When I hear you, existence has a reason
Watery orchestras and dances in the sky
My heart is covered by the blanket of love

When I hear you
Love is whispering to the world
Shhh, listen

As I levitate in the phantasmagoria of courting colours
Am I living to die, or am I dying to live?


Byron P. Brassel

Middlemist, IX
25 September 2012

Moonlight Dance

Her hair moves and sways like a river as the wind travels through it, so beautiful in its composition... its form... its entity. I am standing alone, on a beach, listening to the melody of the dark, embrionic waves caressing the soft and sensuous sand... listening to her feet as she walks toward me. The moon lies, staring... composing the music that the waves are performing. It is an eloquent harmony that travels through my ears and massages me inside... I hear a whisper...

I watch her as she walks, and I feel her grace as she leaves only slight footprints in the sand... she is an angel, coming toward me, coming to me. It seems like an eternity before she reaches me but she does... I hear a whisper... She stops only a few centimetres away, where she can allow me the deference of looking into her eyes. Inside there I see the whispers, I hear her dreams, I feel her disposition and I listen, I listen to her life, her past, her present and her future, and I look for me... but I cannot see... I only hear a whisper.

I hold out my hand to her invitingly, beckoning her to take it, to hold it... my eyes beg as they look deeply into her ocean of dreams. My hand shakes as it senses hers arrive. She slowly runs her forefinger over my palm and makes a loop, I feel her compassion, courage, fear and love dissipating into me... I hear a whisper. She closes her hand around mine and holds it, tightly, never taking her eyes off mine. In her eyes I see infinity... and in her eyes infinity has an end.

She begins to walk me down the beach holding my hand close, her hair still flowing like a wild river. I lean my face close enough for her hair to flow into it and I feel it... I smell it... engulfing me, intoxicating me... what an aroma. She suddenly stops and turns to face me. Our eyes once again lock in an unbreakable embrace while her alluring blue and white dress hugs me and brings me closer to her. We are both trapped... I hear a whisper.

I bring my hand to her face and run the back of my finger down the side, silk has no comparison. Her eyes close to the sensation and she leans her face toward my hand, resting it there. Again I hear a whisper... where? We both listen to the harmony of the waves and she starts to move slowly, from side to side, still holding my hand, still resting on my hand. I hear the whisper becoming louder, then silence... silence. I notice she is looking right into my eyes again, searchingly, looking for me. I take her other hand... gently, and I bring it to my face, breathing it in and then kissing it. Her eyes close to the sensation as the pleasure trickles its way into her, searching for every crevice and space, this pleasure expresses itself on her face as a sense of yearning travels across it. It is this expression of yearning, that I begin to fall in love with. Again I hear a whisper... but where?

I bring her closer to me, while her dress hugs me and brings me closer to her. I begin to move with her, in harmony with her as the moon conducts the ocean orchestra playing so beautifully for us. We are at one with nature as nature is at one with us, a complete unity of our souls. The moon carefully oversees the waves as they move, interfere and overlap, conducting crescendos and diminuendos as we waltz to the amiable sound that results from such a pure composition of nature. The water reaches our feet and wanders in-between, searching, covering and soothing. Our feet glide across the water as it recapitulates its advancement and recession, slowly and quickly with us as we do the same with our graceful movements. Suddenly, all grace is lost as we both break into laughter for one of my mistakes in stepping on her feet. It’s a beautiful moment. We stand for a moment and glance up at the moon, who seems disappointed that we have stopped our dance to his music. He looks back at us with the dark purple and pink clouds lighting up with him, almost clothing him, whilst still conducting his faithful 4 billion year old orchestra in the longest standing soundtrack in history. A special understanding develops between us and the moon as we stand and gaze at it, a great respect. My beautiful partner then rests her head on me and puts her arms around me, holding on, not wanting this moment to end... ever. We slowly move to the music again and... I hear a whisper.

I move with her and breathe in the pleasant aroma of her hair and my grip around her tightens slightly as my love for her increases. Am I in a dream, I ask myself quietly in my head. How could I have been allowed such an honour, of being allowed to guide so beautiful a woman? I try not to think in this gorgeous moment and I suddenly feel her grip tighten and then release, and she looks deeply into my abyss of dreams, and I see, I finally see. I am the whisperer...

A tear slowly trickles down my face, leaving a permanent mark engraved there as she continues to look in my eyes, sympathetic, enlightened and loving. I bring her face close to mine, where we are breathing in each other, tasting each other’s breath. She closes her lips over my mark as my eyes close to the sweetest sensation of the warmth and softness of her delicate kiss. We then look at each other’s lips and she bites her bottom lip, almost in practice for what is to come. I am in desperation, waiting, dying, for it to happen. She moves closer then pauses... there is silence, almost as if the waves stopped!

I then realise that I have to move too and I do. The embrace is powerful, awe-inspiring, warm, cold, soft, hard, magnetic, impulsive, impudent... amazing. I taste her as she tastes me and I let out more tears to the feeling of completeness. A sense and feeling I have never experienced, awakens in me like a fire, and for the first time, ever, I feel wanted.

She looks again into my eyes, finally, as the kiss ends, and rests her head on me again as we begin to sway again under the night sun... in our Moonlight Dance.

I whisper into her ears now saying: ‘May I be so lucky as to walk into your dreams and dance with you on this moonlit beach, and may I be so lucky that you walk into mine and dance with me’

Byron P. Brassel
23 September 2009
Re-mastered in the years since.