My name is William Bradford III, and I’m a writer/poet born and raised here in Oklahoma. I’m 25 years old and have been writing since I was about 11. I love music, especially old music; something a little jazzy always does me good. I love to perform poetry live at open mics and poetry competitions. In fact, you could catch me at the local poetry spots around OKC regularly — well, before COVID-19 sucked the air out of 2020. Even under quarantine during a pandemic, I still find time to be creative. My hobbies include listening to music and writing and composing music of my own. I also like to express my creativity visually with a painting or drawing session. Though these activities keep me creatively active, my work wouldn’t have the heart and soul that it does without the love and support of my family: my wife Kendra, my son William IV and my newborn baby girl Stella. They fill my heart so much that I’m able to write with soul, not sadness.


“One by one from my storm drain”

I'm up before the sun, as the moon and stars say their goodbyes until tonite. The thunderstorm that soothed the silent sleepers starts to calm and the rhythmic raindrops slow drip from my storm drain. Slowly dropping, dropping one bye one until a steady drip of a single drop at a time relays a tune. A tune I find familiar. A posthumous song sings about a mighty storm that refused to be denied. The chorus is a repetitive melody of downpour whilst the verse sings of thunder, lightning and wind. With subtle interludes and thunderous, but harmonious pick-ups. A break in the symphony comes only to tell a short story, a story of soft raindrops falling one bye one from my storm drain until the grand symphony comes full circle with a similar harmony. Only this harmony included each piece of mother natures quartet. The thunder, the lightning, the rain, the wind. All sing in the different keys of life, perfectly in tune with each other as nature intended and suddenly I feel balanced. As the Sonata comes to a close it fades out with distant thunder cracks and silent lightning strikes. Smooth wind sings as it dances on my windowsill and the slow raindrops keep the beat like a metronome. One bye one, one bye one from my storm drain.