What Keeps Frosting Company Alive

When the shadows sprinkle

The concrete as the passer

Trudge to the end.

The X marks

the lost of,

person and rationality.

The silent whimper

Only to be heard,

by the owner of the tear.

Cringing stares,

By 3am terrors.

As a pillow lie restless.

Bloodshot walls

With a crack

In a centimeter heart

The body use to lurk

And endeavor itself,

With other’s love, hatred, peace and sex.

A senseless tool

Became wicked.

As a hologram,

Of shadows,

Sprinkled. On your lack lust of a soul. 

Two Steps Forward To Go Backward

She saw me for the first time.

I wore deep blue jeans, and a pink polo

I was trying, to solve quantum physics.

I was planning, for my future.

A future, to go beyond her.

To touch a galaxy, with a pair of lens,

only for I, to reflect on.

I stumble into my fading seat number.

The snow falls as each train wheel, breaks the ice off the tracks,

as each wheel sputter, I feel farther away from you.

The train comes to a halt and a voice spoke.

“We have a delay because of the weather conditions. We apologize for any inconvenience.”

She saw me for the first time today.

We did homework together,

we play games together,

we drove together,

we walk together.

She had feelings for me, feelings

 for I didn’t share with her, or I couldn’t share

I always look pass her, like a clear glass bottle.

This train became frozen.

I am in my seat waiting, for a sign of relief,

it has been three hours since any sign of life.

I think about the time,

the time where we were kids, and we ran

 around all the yards and get in trouble for disturbing the peace.

The snow has thickened like moms clam chowder.

No food, No water. The train engine began to roar.

The wheels began to rotate again. A voice came on again,

“Our next destination is Tokyo; please remain seated until we reach our destination. Next stop Tokyo.”

I saw her for the first time.

She bumped into me,

Wearing that tacky, blue, school uniform,

and she smiles at me in embarrassment. 

I remember the brown flowing hair,

and her skin, as soft as the moon.

Her eyes remind me of twinkling planets,

 waiting to be discovered in another galaxy.

We grew up together.

But today, I saw her for the first time. 

My trip To Wonderland by Brett Nielsen

Time that flies

Results in a matter of a tick-tock,

Tock of the tick, with the tip of a tongue

Will soon grab you by a hand or by five

Then a howl, by a moon

Will take the trip into the fall

And that won't be all,

If even you may, consider to be,

On your knees, within the great sea

You maybe, in a place

The area you gaze

Will have no face

But a mysterious maze,

Maybe cut in a haze

You then may see a caterpillar

Oh who say, he dont need,

I indeed never said

He smokes from wood,

But spoke in french

Dont mind yourself, but

You may be drenched.

Twins who speak with a knotted tongue of riddles  

Of the one who lies maybe tweedle dee

Dont play that damn fiddle

But never trust tweedle dumb

Call the one who may lie, you will not be found dead

But they may resist the Red Queen at the end

Pay attention to the walking cards

Because they may not be,

But be the guards

Stay hidden or play your heart,

And be taken to the palace.

Of, the Red Queen,

You will see a horrible fiend

But don't worry Mr. Rabbit,

Has the inside knowledge,

Create a bad habit

To abolish the red queen

And her deen

Then the tick of the tock

Will take its last flock

Time will no longer

Be a bother.

Then you may return, to the land,

That may not be Wonderland

How i feel for you by Brett Nielsen

I am Yours by Brett Nielsen

Rainy, Muddy, Wet

There you lay

Covered in mud, lifeless.

My  hand rose,

You, slowly stood,

Soaked in mud and blood,

You wore the pieces,

of your heart.

I step closer, you flinched

I held out my hands,

You collapsed, into my arms,

Your voice gently lure my ear,

to leave a whisper.

“Dont leave, I'm broken”

My voice destroyed your sound barriers,

and force you to listen

“There,there I found my love.”

I held up, your arms,

And healed the cuts of your death,

Promise not to break you,

But  to heal you from your scars,

To say I love you

Therefore I am your necromancer

False America

False America

By Brett Nielsen

Oh my pocket

Show me the wealth that I don’t care

Brief society to fuck it

Oh my pocket

Our government is not fair

Dont have enough change for that pear

Oh my pocket

Mr. Eyepatch

Mr. Eyepatch
By Brett Nielsen

You look like hell.

Have you been sailing the seven skies?

Have you stole any treasures?

You look like hell.

Why drink so much?

When you dont say argh?

You look like hell.

Where is your blade of freedom?

How do you still have two normal legs?

You look like hell.

“Because I wear an eye patch,

doesn't mean I am a pirate.”

You still look like hell.