A Ghost Poem

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

A Ghost Poem:

I’m haunted still by visions past,

By ghostly wails and die long cast.

Porcelain smiles and ochre eyes,

Find me much to my surprise.

Sleeping, thinking, lost in mind,

I’m stalked by those I’ve left behind.

A ghostly whisper comes to me,

As I search for serenity.

There is no rest, no sure reprieve,

From the specters I believe.

A curling grin, a twisted brow,

An implacable stretch from then to now.

I toss and turn upon my bed,

These memories searing through my head.

I rise aloft and cross the floor,

A grinning vision at the door.

A flickering vestige of all I had,

To have and lose and then grow mad.

But ever smiling, turns away,

A promise that nothing untrue may stay.

Alone I stand on the edge of dream,

The perfect start to Halloween.

-Brad OH Inc.

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A Treatise on Love and Letting Go

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

I know you’re hurting. I know you can’t talk to me about it. Hell, I can even understand why. So I’ll just leave this here, in case you ever need it.

I’ve learned a few things over the years, and maybe they’ll give you some comfort, if not guidance.

It’s a funny thing, love. Its ambiguity clashes with its ubiquity in the most confounding ways sometimes. It’s why you’re hurting. It’s why I’m hurting. It’s why neither of us can go to the other for comfort. It’s even why I’m being so painfully surreptitious this very moment.

Of course I love you. That’s why I’d never ask you to say it back. Not anymore. It’s why our suffering—so unified in source—must nonetheless remain sundered: why we talk in platitudes. It’s why my very presence before you, day after day, is a lie. Lying because of love…that may be one of the older lies in the proverbial book.

Yeah, love is funny like that.

But I’m not the only one hurting, and this isn’t about me.

I want to talk about the hard things—not offer shallow advice. I want to help you, even though you do not ask it; perhaps precisely because you do not.

It’s been said that love is a battlefield (Source). I think there’s some truth in that. I also believe, however, that the vast majority of people misinterpret this to a terrible and unforgivable degree. There is a key distinction to be made here: fighting for love, vs. fighting with love.

Too often, desperate lovers confuse the two. In fact, I half suspect that many relationships spend the greater part of their time doing the latter—raging against the inevitable. They hurt each other in the process of course, but in the moment it seems justified. When we love, we naturally forsake all other reason—for love itself is an act of faith, and requires little in the way of logic or objective measure.

But when we fight against a failing love, we are not defending our vision of the future, but rather doing a violence to the cherished past.

I hope that gives you some context. I hope it helps you understand your options. Further—perhaps foremost, if I’m honest—I hope it explains why I did so sorry little in the way of trying to change your mind.

I’d fight to hell and back for a love that’s fighting for it right by my side. I’m certain you would as well. But if lovers are not fighting together, then any effort on either part is not fighting for, but fighting with.

I would not fight against your will, for I know that in all the great love stories, the lovers are fighting great odds, but ever in harmony with one another.

They are on each other’s side.

It was the Montagues and Capulets who sought to sunder Romeo and Juliet—never their doubt of one another. Nor indeed would Luthien forsake Beren upon his quest—not even into hell, nor death itself.

I’m not sure at the present moment what I hope you’ll take from that. I don’t even know for certain what you’re dealing with.

Love really is funny like that.

Nonetheless, it’s all irrelevant.

I’ve thought so much since that day, and I’ve come to some important conclusions about my role and purpose. It started with the simplest of questions: what now? That proved to be less simple than I’d initially thought.

It’s been a long time, after all.

As far as I can see, my only duty now is to be the best friend I can, since that is the only role left to me. Let me be clear on this point—that is because of love, not in its spite. I will be there, but never demand to be. I will be absent when that’s what’s best, and there the moment you need me. I’ll be a sounding board, a support, a shoulder to cry on…an unsolicited piece of advice on an obscure blog.

I’ll be whatever you need…even if that is nothing at all.

At this point, I have no idea if I’ve been helpful here. I don’t know what you need. I don’t know that you’ll ever read this, or if you’re even in need of any such counsel. If not, then I suppose my job is done, or never existed. That’s ok. That may even be the best possible outcome to all of this.

I realize, in hindsight, that I have spoken more about myself than you. It goes with the territory—with my lack of context, my drought of knowledge…my desperation to remain relevant in some small way. It’s selfish I know, to insist on serving in spite of the congregation’s absence. To define oneself by one’s relation to others is a listless and impotent struggle.

…The death throes of desire.

So what now, my dear? Where do we go from here?

I don’t know where you’ll end up. Neither do I know exactly where I am going. Nevertheless, I can tell you where you will find me, if ever you need to. I’ll be right where I’ve always been—it’s the only place I know.

I guess that’s the funny thing about love…it’s a special sort of madness.

 -Brad OH Inc.

‘A Song for Alec’

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampToday we have another song/ poem from the intellectual property vaults of Brad OH Inc. For your enjoyment, we present the lost ‘Basic Human Indecency’ song: ‘A Song for Alec’.

Old Alec McPhee
Was a man of the sea
He’d traveled all over the globe
But now his boots sat
In a house on a road
Where old Alec shouldered his load

He moved into the house
To care for his family
Who offered him no word of thanks
He worked for the army
To pay for his children
But poor men don’t rise through the ranks

Every day he worked hard
Every night he lay cold
His dreams and his future denied
Old Alec sat
In a chair at a table
And looked out his window and cried

Old Alec walked down
To the water one night
Kept walking as it reached his chest
He carried with him
The clothes on his back
Some memories and left all the rest

Walked into the water
Up past his neck
Through the water he pushed out so fast
Away from the land
Out into the water
Alec walked away from his past

A man that is living
Must live in the present
A man that has run carries shame
But a man that’s found dead
Will live on in memory
And not scar the worth of his name

Alec turned around
With the water at his nose
And knew he had made a mistake
Remembered his duty
To care for his children
And knew there was no choice to make

The sounds of his life
Were silence or screaming
His friends from the past never called
His kids barely knew him
His wife didn’t love him
Alec’s house was no home at all

His family was cruel
As if sent by the Gods
To punish him for all his sin
But they needed a man
To survive in this world
And damned if it wouldn’t be him

Old Alec walked dripping
Into his kitchen
And up to his wife for a hug
She shrugged him away
And tossed him a towel
And told him to stay on the rug

In his chair by the table
He looked out the window
As dreams of the past filled his head
He stared at the ocean
And knew he’d been foolish
For he was already long dead

A man he will live
For the Gods that he chases
And see them wherever he’ll roam
And he’ll chase the shadows
Make gifts into shackles
And a prison out of a home

Alec can you find
Alec does it seem
Alec won’t you learn
That you’re chasing dead dreams

Alec are you lost
Alec are you blind
Alec don’t you know
You’ve lost more than you’ll find…

-Brad OH Inc.

Yours Truly

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

I’ve missed you.

I know that may come as a surprise, given my apparent absence. But you’ll have to trust that I’ve held you close in my thoughts, no matter how distant I may have seemed at times.

And it certainly has been a while, I won’t deny it. I’ve been quite busy, although explaining the nature of my work might be a little too heavy at the moment. But you’ve been busy too. Yes, you certainly have. Things have changed around here, even more than I might have imagined.

Not all for the worse mind you. No, I’ve seen some things since my return that have brought a much needed smile to my face—and that’s a rare thing indeed these days, I confess. The decoration I’m a bit split on, but there’s a lot beyond that to appreciate. You’ve had some great ideas, no doubt about it, and there have been moments when you really lived up to your potential.

…It’s just that they’re so damn rare.

Part of it may be my fault, I know—I’ve been derelict in my duties. In truth, I’d been hoping my presence was no longer quite so imperative.

I see now that I was misled. You’ve had a rough go of it lately. It’s hard to say where it all started to go wrong, but it’s far gone now, and it’s time we faced the truth.

I’ll start by apologizing once more for my distance. You deserved some assurance that I still remembered my promise. More importantly, you clearly needed it.

If I’m being entirely honest—and I am, without fail—I actually thought I’d left you with enough to get by. I gave you my word, and I told you everything you needed to know. I tried to make it as simple as I could, but even the clearest instructions grow blurry with the passage of time. And it has been a long time, to say the least.

You must have known I’d be watching though. If not, you should have.

I watched as you forgot who your family was, and turned your back on all the things which really mattered. I saw when you began to use me as a source of justification rather than strength. That’s really what hurt me the most.

What we had was a beautiful thing; at least I thought it was. But you’ve let your passion ferment into a bitter brew, and the intoxication it caused within you has become a blight on everything we once had. We never used to be about the fancy things, but now it’s all you seem to remember about me.

When I first laid eyes on you, I couldn’t help but adore your every fault. All your naïve desires were a wonder to me, and I revelled in your successes and failures alike, as each one made you more and more…you. The way you could be so content in your own head, the way you appreciated everything around you. I lived vicariously through you in some ways, and I adored your passion for creation. I could see myself in that.

But you’re so angry now, so defensive. It seems like whenever my name comes up, you’re ready for a battle. The constant anger is shocking—it’s almost like you wanted to keep me away. Things are different I know, but you can handle it without the blood and teeth and bile. I know you can, because I know you.

Still, I don’t blame you for being bitter. You needed more from me, when I only wanted you to find your own way. You called my name, and I didn’t answer. I tell myself that you needed to learn for yourself, but I know that’s only half true.

I’m not sure what I intended by reaching out again. When I left, I was certain that things could never change between us. Now, I only wish they could once more. You’ve grown unwieldy in my absence, and managed to become something entirely detestable to me. But it works two ways, and I know in truth that the change was at least in part because of my absence.

So what to do now?

It comes down to needs, I suppose. Needs, and wants. I want things to go back to how they were, but I know it’s unlikely. What do you want from me? I can scarcely imagine. Some assurance? Some comfort? I can offer neither. The road is long and hard, and I cannot carry you for all of it.

Maybe the cause is the cure as well. If nothing else, I’d like you to speak of me without the rage, without the need to do battle in the vainglorious hope of proving to others what you doubt in yourself. If that’s too much, then I’d rather you not speak of me at all.

Forget about me.

That’s all I can ask now.

We had a good run together. Great even, at times. But it’s clear we’re beyond each other now. The longer you hold onto the past, the greater damage you do to your present, and I worry that your time is growing short.

So let me go. Just pretend I never existed. Forget my words and burn my letters. Tell yourself you never needed me. Scream from the mountains that you’d be better off without me, that you are beautiful and worthy and glorious just because you are.

…Because you are.

Please, don’t ever forget it. And more import still, please don’t prove me wrong.

Yours Truly…

-Brad OH Inc.

‘Actually’

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green DesklampToday we have another song/ poem from the intellectual property vaults of Brad OH Inc. For your enjoyment, we present the lost ‘Basic Human Indecency’ song: ‘Actually’.

You walked out

I said it was ok

I signed on the line

Said you wouldn’t go that way

You were gone from my mind

Until the newspaper today

It said you’d returned

To your place from way back

The old needs recurred

Set you on that same track

Lessons never learned

You just wanted what she had

They never called me

But it’s with me all the time

Once trivial choice

Less thought than a dropped dime

You made her your last

And I guess you were both mine

And actually I

Guess I never knew you

Factually I

Thought I saw right through you

Now finally I

Wish I never blew you off…

-Brad OH Inc.

‘Silent Truth’

Under the Green Desk Lamp…

Green Desklamp

Today we have another song/ poem from the intellectual property vaults of Brad OH Inc. For your enjoyment, we present the lost ‘Basic Human Indecency’ song: ‘Silent Truth’.

It was dark

Just like it always is there

I remember

I thought I’d never be here

I just needed to tell you again

I walked around

and I looked down upon you

I could see

The black amid the clear blue

And I knew that I could not stay

And so I placed

The rose upon those green sheets

And I felt

The moisture on my thin cheeks

And I knew it would not end there

So I looked up

To apathetic eyes

And I could feel

The echoes of my lies

But I could never have told you then

Yet now it’s safe

Because the quiet is so true

So I spoke

I said I’ll always love you

And I just turned and fell away…

-Brad OH Inc.

‘In That Number’

At Brad OH Inc., we dedicate many of our waking hours to the enjoyment and study of music. Soon, this may play a more pivotal role in the updates at Brad OH Inc., but for now we have for you a simple story, inspired largely by a single song.

‘In That Number’ is a story about change, and one man’s uncertainty as he heads irrevocably towards a reckoning that will leave his world unrecognizable. It’s not up to him who goes with him and who stays behind, and as he heads towards the unknown, he reflects on what’s come to pass, what may yet be, and the weight of the choices which have led him to this junction.

This enigmatic short story was partially inspired by the song ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’, with particular credit to the Bruce Springsteen version. We here at Brad OH Inc. hope you enjoy it, and your undying loyalty to us when the trumpets finally sound their call.

Click the link below the image to Download that new story free!

In That Number Cover

‘In That Number’- Smashwords

-Brad OH Inc.