Biography of Brandon McConnell
It all basically started during the poetry unit in my English class. Part of the assignment was to write your own poetry, which I thought would be difficult. Although, when it came down to writing, I poured my heart and mind into my poems, giving each one a lot of thought. Years later, poetry is now what I use to express myself.
Brandon McConnell Poems
Triplet coyotes From the day of their birth Desired the moon And all it was worth
What Is Poetry
What is poetry more than words Thought into existence by a writer. What is life than a mystery unspurred
First To The Finish
Last to the kill, First to the finish. Fighting until The thoughts diminish.
One tear Feelings sincere The blue sky melts away The bright sun fades and clouds appear
In awe of your beauty The allure in your eye At the touch of your hand My heart started to fly
Slaving hard each day and night To bring the world it's dark and light And aura of refulgence divine You make the sun wish it could shine
What hath a mind If it hath not a choice What hath a man If he hath not a voice
A Year And A Day
A year and a day Are all that lay Between me and My love
My Heart Lullaby
Messages in bottles Each drifting through the sea Sidle back and forth Some are bound to come to me
Louder to him than the deafening cries, Are the gunshots that pierce each man as he dies. He looks about and sees the demise, Of his once good friends and his trusted allies.
Full Of You
Closer to fainting with every thought To stay awake so hard have I fought When thinking about your immaculacy My heart is lifted; I fly; I am free
In My Eyes
Drop the disguise It's you I prefer Because in my eyes You already were
Caught By The Hand
There is a place I have come to know Where grief and anger tend to grow I know well how to reach this place While venturing though, I leave no trace
It’s winter now, the time has come, Temperatures are freezing, Bare hands become quite cold and numb, With gloves, the weather’s pleasing.
Caught By The Hand
There is a place I have come to know
Where grief and anger tend to grow
I know well how to reach this place
While venturing though, I leave no trace
But many before me too have found
This path I walk, and in it drowned
For this path is rather misleading
One wrong turn, it's death you're meeting