Encrypted File- Poem

Encrypted File

By: Brandon Brooksby

V feel like there are

Apposite

Apposing

Sorces at work here,

V don’t want to be the bent fork,

Ghe one you fear I will be,

Put you feel so far

Met so near

Ond familiar to me

Ghat our collision seems tu brief

Olthough I should like it to

Xinger

Vn gravity

Sor eternity.

Orange Lights

Orange light passes slowly on; as a slow brook passes an even slower traveler on his melancholy way through life.
The light came from shapes, out of focus to the stranger, trudging the late streets of night; large ominous,omniscient,and oppressive poles, stalking the wanderer on his way.
Was it the light that passed, or was it he?
The lone figure couldn't tell.
Alone was this shape, a shadow of potential seen only by The Divine.
They marched, as death, alongside the traveler, these lights did, but no one took notice, save the broken soul, alone.

Walking through pain, walking through sorrow, walking through Hell, walking to no tomorrow.
These orange lights kept drifting by, with maddening persistence,
and even still more maddening slowness and sureness of their path.
On and on and on and on.
Black, then orange light, slowly...slowly..brighter..and brighter..
fading now..a bit more...almost gone......
black again.
Over and over the pattern repeats.
Again and again, the saddened walker moves slowly from dark blackness,
to bright orangeness, and back again into black.
So slow that he could barely breathe,
so slow that he could barley see,
so slow that the movement felt like stillness, and the stillness like movement.
Until the dawn came.
And only the God of creation,all,
knows where this poor soul will go,
and from where the saddened traveler came.

Bee Farm

Short Story
By: Brandon Brooksby
When I was a little lad, life was idyllic, for the most part. I worked on a bee farm with purple pants on every day (the mere fact that I had pants on, in the first place was good). Those bees were so friendly. We passed the time baking pies in organic ovens, heated by the core of the Earth; Oh such pies we made!
The bees lovingly excreted their honey upon these pies, so eating these pies was much like eating my friends.
I've always wanted to eat my friends, they seem so scrumptious in only the way that friends can.
On this lovely fall afternoon I resisted the urge no longer, and took a bite into my nearest bee friend, Eric. Shrieks tore through the air, like air-raid sirens. The other bees swarmed the air, fleeing every which way. They swarmed This way and That way, Up and Down, Side to Side, and all sorts of directions in the 4th and 5th dimensions. The swarming was like watching Nazis Germany franticly trying to find the spatula, in a not very well maintained kitchen, before the Führer came in for breakfast, demanding his morning eggs. Then the chaos began to take form, and the bees soon settled into a hideous dragon; claws, jaws, and all, smiling wickedly at me. It's skin was alive and buzzing a low, ferocious buzz.
"My Friends," I cried," let me apologies for my horrible crime, I lost myself in the excitement of the moment. My fuzzy little friend just seemed so satisfyingly scrumptious that I forgot that it is not socially acceptable to eat one's friends."
The buzzing didn't lessen one bit.
"'Socially Acceptable ?!" That doesn't even begin to scratch the surface! The injustice of this abhorred sin is grossly being overlooked by your perverted mind," the bee-dragon belched.
"Well, I'm sure I meant no offence by it," I began.--
"What you meant, and didn't 'meant' has got nothing to do with it," interrupted the bees. "The fact that you meant no offence does not change the fact that your actions have greatlyoffended us!"
"That's your fault, not mine. You can choose not to be offended, you know," was my response.
"Nonsense, in this instance we have no choice. We must be offended or else more injustice like this will happen to us," one bee replied.
"What other offenses?!" I argued.
"Your people have always treated us inferior, and we are done putting up with it," shouted another bee. A general murmur from the bees followed this remark.
"What about the injustice your people show mine, or better yet the injustice your people show to others of your kind? Humans are not the only offenders in this, surely you can see that, or are you so blinded by your hate that you refuse to see it?" I retorted.
"No, we are fighting against the hate that the humans have towards us. The only actions we can take are being offended and a general outcry of media and lawsuits against all damages against us," the bees proclaimed.
"This is getting quite out of control," I stated," and I've had enough. Let's make peace and be friends again."
"Are you crazy? We'd make a lot less money off of you guys if we did that," came a response from the crowd.
"Money?! This is about money?!" I yelled incredulously.
"Indeed not! It is about correcting the wrongs that society has placed on us from the beginning," replied a bee.
"And to get enough money off of you and the government as to make sure we don't have to fill another bottle of honey in our lifetime," added another.
"This is heading south quickly," I muttered to myself. And with that I walked away and thought about how stupid working on a bee farm really was, and how much I loathed those purple pants.