Brandy Danielle Nicholson

The days of Cold War and the nights of Revere rides have caught up to the times in which two and two equal four. This- the rationalists can prove but ask them where the two's abide or the perfect circles collide- with nobility? Ask them the equation of reverence times reason times honor times courage times good and love times morality times ethics times nobility... And they're faint- pale- for an answer. Because this terminology cannot be rationalized with objects- or multiplied by bones or equated to a number of footsteps. This equation must reside in the world of forms, Plato's perfect, immutable, eternal world where all true knowledge exists. And all of this- is imaginary like Descartes' uncertainty of life as a dream. Everything we know is nothing and paradoxically- the nothing is still everything. All appellations have clarifications and explanations that have been concocted by some mind of some time in another world wh...

I wish I could say, in one kind I find peace of mind. But, I've never known the glories unless I've slept alone. I drown in ignorance for a state of bliss, and my people are gone through time preference. I was never able to meet my day or meet my best friend who warred by my side. The night is lonely for kinds like mine, left amongst a troubled generation discovering none of their kind. The searching has brought me a multitude of people revealing their kinds in pairs. I've paired myself, but I fear my death before I've found the one I'm bound. The loosening of my soul is here, and I'm fearful of the tatter. The inept pieces have clouded my view of who I am and where are you? I miss you day, and I miss you night. I miss the connection for finding my life. If you were here, who would I be? And would I be searching for the current me? I'm yearning through the stage of blue, the doom has heeded farewell. There's a certain kind bursting through, and t...

The dawn of time is curled alive inside the peeping sun. The mountains bloom and days anew while the moon will loosen the tide. The gaping hole of the empty soul is hiding in the field. The wheat is ready and crops are full of aching in the mud. Outstretched roots have bartered through the future of the ruse. Wilting brine and heaven's hell must no longer hide. Time is here woven in space, it's captivated truth. Lost is what all have found surrounded by the dew. Blue is the wind and still is the rise of the breath that's given life. Stunned at sea and electrified by the coming of the night. Arisen here the dead will walk and all are left to die. Taking tolls amongst the road's forgiving dead end sign. The wooden will of the flavored air ceases to exist. A mental note is pacing drones through the cry of wretched fear. Amongst the stars, an endless disease of sanitizing peers. Revere the youth and wise alike with all who have been here. Beyond existence is carnal desire...