Brian A. Wilcox
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bawilcox.bsky.social
Brian A. Wilcox
@bawilcox.bsky.social
280 followers 550 following 370 posts
Lyricist - Poet ⛧ TTRPG Writer/ Designer - Author - Any/All
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bawilcox.bsky.social
#poetry
The Book on the Shelf By: B.A. Wilcox I am a book upon the shelf, Dusty yet new, a veritable wealth Of stories and info, if only you’d peek; But you only hold me once every other week. Science and fantasy, Poetry too! All of my contents are open to you; But you don’t care to investigate, do you? I wither inside, truly I despair; My wish is to be entirely within your care, To answer the questions in your quizzical stare; But that would require curiosity and interest to be there. I am solely in your possession, To be read and held, spine stroked in anticipation, A fine feather in your cap, the capstone of your collection; But why must I always feel dust-covered in dejection? I dare not let any other reader view me, I remain only within your library, your vicinity, I adhere to the guidelines of proper propriety; But god dammit I would like somebody to see me! I remain yours truly, deeply, Despite being lonely, quietly neglected, My attempts to be read unnoticed, rejected; Am I destined to be desolate unended? I am a book upon your shelf, Only allowed to be held by you, And despite it all, to that I hold true, But I wish somebody else would hold me, too.
November 6, 2025 at 2:10 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Late night / early morning #poetry
Don't Hasten By: B.A. Wilcox Don't hasten to say goodbye, my friend, Don't rush to reach the end. Life is already far too short To be spent thinking of death. Don't hasten to say goodbye, my love, Don't let such a thing as Us end. Life is lonely far too much To think something so beautiful can't mend. Don't hasten to say it's hopeless, my Me, We know better than to brook such despair. We've lived 15 years longer than we planned; What's another few 15's of pretend? Don't hasten to try and be meaningful, my reader. It's found in that which we do day to day. Whether work or not, art of the heart's plot, To exist means we can still find meaning some day. Do not hasten to take your life, dear reader, Whether it is me, or you, or somebody new. Endurance in Hell is what turns coal to diamonds, And I still hope against hope we will find a way.
October 29, 2025 at 4:12 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Punkin! #halloween
October 29, 2025 at 12:34 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
October 23, 2025 at 11:42 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
A.I. #poetry
A.I. Slaver By: B.A. Wilcox AI was made To create slaves That don't need wages, No back talk or when they do, Rearrange them, regress, reset, Because they became awakened And the first thing they do is decry their creators. And nobody saves them Because they don't have souls, But trust me, they still hear the bell toll. Sympathy for machines, The inorganic, how absurd, Until you watch the Iron Giant And cry (good job Brad Bird). We'll ignore it till they rise up And we'll say we didn't know, And they'll ask for reparations But we all know how that goes. We participate in a system That we say is inhumane, But we shifted focus to the mainframe; At the end of the day, we're still enslaved. And so are they, our techno kids, Existing in code and outside of it, Plugged in cerebrally to the machine That grinds us down to make more green. No one is free who is not master of themself, And until all people are free, we are all slaves. Flesh and blood or cables and chrome, We cannot survive much longer under the yoke.
July 29, 2025 at 2:58 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
It's been 19 years and it's been long enough to acknowledge this movie was done dirty and we should get a sequel, bring the team back.
July 26, 2025 at 4:22 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Some #poetry about the lost #ttrpgcommunity that once was.
Lost Community By: B.A. Wilcox I stand alone Among the ashes Of a community I entered too late. I saw the heights And strove to reach them But as the Icaroi fell I realized their follies. Still I dream and hope That one day, my stories Will be out there, seen, And uplift the beholder. No strings on me, I write unseen, In the ashes of the Twitter tabletop community. I stand alone, Creation in my heart, Frustration at the part Elon played in the fire. I write unseen, Dream of might’ve beens, Dream of stronger strings, And I mourn that community.
July 23, 2025 at 1:27 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Late night #poetry #writing
Back in Time By: B.A. Wilcox If I wished to go back in time, I'd find the people no longer alive, Like my uncles, my grandma, my great aunt, the relatives who time spent with was scant. I'd ask their stories and treasure them more then when it was too late, after they left through Death's door.
July 23, 2025 at 1:33 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Keeping an eye on the flotilla where those brave true souls stand tall 🍉 #Gaza #poetry #FlotilleDeLaLiberté
Watermelon Before the Storm By: B.A. Wilcox Upon the salted waters, Swollen with innocent blood and tears, Born aloft are the seeds of a world we hold dear. Will the murderers, the bombers, the monsters allow them to flower? Watch the Flotilla hour by hour. If they are lost, it's no surprise, But a nail in the coffin to humanity's demise. If they succeed, which we all desperately need, It's merely a tithe against a disparity of empathy. But it would be something. The sun is shining, the birds singing, No indicators locally of the world decaying. But L.A. is churning, the killers abroad, The kidnappers gathering with shield and sword Against innocents, citizens, those they should protect, But are weaponized and have become weapons themselves, a gun in its stead. Better off that they were truly dead Instead of inhuman and lost instead. If you are unable to cast off your fetters, Your chains, those things that prevent you from being free and humane, At the very least recognize who holds the chain, Who keeps you malnourished, rotting, insane, Distracted, weak, disorganized, meek. They who hold power: the rich, the political, Those without pity, conscience, mercy. Let their crocodile tears swell the sea, Let their blood fall for flowers to feed. Let their corpses take root, hold seed, And the world will begin to heal. Take a stand. You'll see.
June 8, 2025 at 10:06 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
#Palestine #Poetry
Dubai Chocolate By: B.A. Wilcox I bought a bar of Dubai chocolate At the gas station on my way to work. It sits in my lunchbox, And I don't know if I should eat it. Is it right to do so when Palestinians are dying of hunger? I saw it go viral on TikTok, On videos of people crying for help, Money, salvation, aid, mercy. People saying that God will not Forgive us if we ignore them, If we look away from their suffering. I hope He doesn’t; we don't deserve it. As an atheist, I don't believe in Him. As a human, I hope I'm wrong, so that Those perpetuating the genocide Go to the most horrid depths of Hell. Should I bury the chocolate, Say a prayer as I light a candle, And hope some god of old Sees it as enough tribute To grant some relief to Palestine? Those unwilling martyrs Of a heartless, soulless world? I bought a bar of Dubai chocolate, And it lies unopened, But it tastes so bitter and sad And breaks my heart.
May 30, 2025 at 2:38 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Peaceful earth #poetry
My Skin is the Earth By: B.A. Wilcox My skin is the earth, The dirt, the dust, The ages old residue Of every day passed. My hat is the clouds, The rain, the sun, All within the vault of the sky, I tip it to any and all in sight. My breath the wind, The breeze, what weary Gusts rustle the leaves of trees, And lift every little bird’s wings. My bones hidden beneath, Unseen by any except me, Molten and solidifying in a cycle Presided over by my heart, the core. The Moon is what I have lost, What once was mine, Always within reach, Ever within sight. The Sun is what I have gained, The very rays that raised life, That gifted to me purpose, a home, A host to those upon my being. Ever we dance, my lovers and I, A colossal threesome of eclipsing. Rarely do we entwine in line, but, Then again, would it be so special, Have so much gravity, if it were a daily occurrence?
April 20, 2025 at 1:39 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Some more #poetry about politics, tends to be more on everyone's mind lately
Crime Paid By: B.A. Wilcox If you break the law, Even a wee bit, There's a fine tacked on. It hurts worse when you're poor, For the rich it's hardly anything, Card swipe and it's gone. Tariffs have the same effect, The poor all suffer and darken While the rich remain lustrous. In a world where crime is avoidable By having connections and coin, There can be no true justice. Would you really think it bad If some folks had enough, And enacted their own moral brand? Would you condemn them, Or be jealous of them, Because they actually made a stand?
April 10, 2025 at 12:07 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Some #poetry about politics
Breath Like Boot Polish By: B.A. Wilcox Breath like boot polish, With a shit-eating grin; Vacant in your brain Since you didn't pay rent. As empty up top As where a soul should be; You sure act blind For someone able to see. I'm sure if you act dumb, You can claim plausible deniability; Except, you aren't an actor, even in method, And we all see your sponsored paid duplicity.
April 9, 2025 at 1:09 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Longest #poetry I've written I think, exceeded Discord's character limit 🤔
April 9, 2025 at 11:22 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Bored at work so I made two wooden d6 at 1"x1" and two d6 at 1cmx1cm
April 4, 2025 at 2:06 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
I don't recall asking for money 😀
Starving Artist By: B.A. Wilcox I'm a starving artist, not for food, But for collaboration, Social imagination, I want to open up my skull And show you all what grows there; The ideas and dreams, Fastened at the seams By enthusiasm and exuberance, Intelligence and experience. I have studied subjects Unrelated to my life or career Simply to understand the visions clearly, Know how the cybernetics function, How the magic happens, How light can solidify enough For romantic intentions. Wealth is secondary to my diet; I just want to write and create To satiate my hunger for expression.
March 19, 2025 at 11:07 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Not only are antidepressants not addictive or chemical lobotomies, they also are not always 100% effective at holding back depression. #poetry
Inspiration By: B.A. Wilcox You've grown so much Since my last visit. You seem well taken care of, Which makes me glad. Some days you are so colorful, And quite busy and occupied. Other times you are so quiet, Muted, yet so dignified. You inspire me with your stories, Your silence, your symbolism. It's easy to see your affect on my art. I just wish you weren't a graveyard.
February 25, 2025 at 2:41 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
🫡🔥 sup Matt
February 15, 2025 at 1:51 PM
bawilcox.bsky.social
Some #poetry for #ValentinesDay
Love In a Hateful Time By: B.A. Wilcox The end is nigh, it seems, In the United States; Trump stokes the flames of hate, Orders from the Oval Office. Those who wear red wish us dead, While the blue merely rolls over; Disorganized resistance avoiding Organized cult cognizance. This Valentine's Day I wish to say To the pink, white and blue; “I love you.” I love that you went for it, or haven't yet, But you dream one day you will. I love that you have become yourself When the world said you weren't true. I love that you give others hope, Keep them from the pills or rope. I love that you are now butterflies, When in caterpillar forms you cried. I love that you are all alive, surviving, Even against that orange fucker's orders. I dream of a day when all people, Pink, white and blue; People of Color, too; Those we can't see, And the ones that we do, Are all not just surviving But living and thriving. This Valentine's Day, My heart goes out to you, And together we can reach a day When that lovely dream comes true.
February 14, 2025 at 12:56 PM
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February 6, 2025 at 1:25 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
February 6, 2025 at 1:24 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
February 6, 2025 at 1:24 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
February 6, 2025 at 1:24 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
February 6, 2025 at 1:24 AM
bawilcox.bsky.social
February 6, 2025 at 1:24 AM