On Monday, the garbage men didn’t arrive and the sun hid behind the unbiased clouds, the jalopy on Crescent Road sang a piercing tune, the widow across the street glared at old photographs and the newspaper was thrown into an oak tree, and the mime laughed until she cried
On Tuesday, the wallpaper pleaded guilty for bad taste and the cinnamon rolls were hard as hockey pucks, the taxi drivers were riding unicycles, and the truth cracked the widescreen TV’s, the preacher’s sermon was written by an atheist and the raven sipped on the concoction just like humanity has for generations
On Wednesday, there was no lumber at the construction site and the henchmen counted their bullets, the playgrounds are now empty malls, California morphs into an exotic island,the register is as desolate with dust, and the politicians are suffering from withdrawal of greed, the drug pushers reside in mansions, and the moneyless become the majority
On Thursday, prejudices and pregnancy rise ten percent, paradigms dissolve and systems fail, symbolism becomes a lost diamond necklace that no one wears, ignorance is a bag of sugar that millions consume, education is no longer a pillar but now a pile of rocks, authenticity is rare and mindsets are stuck in a ten by ten box
On Friday, fools prance on the sidewalk and allegations disperse, heathens scoff and judge, Christianity wears a band aid that you can’t see and God is playing a violin for non believers, no one drinks the water they paid for and the porn that is free rest in their palms, the backward society is quiet and the questions are camouflaged in the answers
On Saturday, plagiarism is on sale and sarcasm is a $10.99 subscription, adultery is on the side, and sincerity was removed from the menu, I can pick up a prescription for a lack of integrity and sell a bottle of lies, the catatonic grin is plastered on every mannequin and the rain washes away the stench of civilization for a split second
On Sunday, the fears turn into rubble and the conscious of mankind fades like ink on paper, the echoes of society feel like a non stop siren, the static in the air tarnishes souls, the earth is decimated by dollar signs and all that is hidden, and the agendas are carved into invisible laws, and the cycle continues without stripping the labels
Television is a disturbance of luster and plentiful Television is a scandalous invention Television is a disruptive mechanism clogging your arteries Television is a vacuum sucking the cells from your cerebellum
And the imagination crumbled And the ingenuity succumbs And she seduces hour by hour
Television is nerve gas crippling your legs and motivation Television is a apparatus blended with hype and inferior hogwash Television is a machine gun of information with a steering wheel Television is a junkyard of contraband with sounds of justification
And the mind evaporates And the muscles sit And she seduces hour by hour
Television is a volatile substance with a grin Television is a crutch with a bomb chained to your feet Television is a fifty two inch rectangle civilians idolize Television is a glass religion with no faith
Once upon an unconditional love love was woven in melodic souls fears were embraced, tears were kissed blessings were gifted and received auras doused in immaculate authenticity veracity is rooted, prosperity widened depths are filled with nectar and joy affection dipped in white hot sincerity tenderness is etched and engraved appreciation feels like a soft blanket conversations filled with respect and zeal A flame that is forever burning with bliss spine-tingling devotion, astonishing wildfire A magnificent universe filled with victories overcoming obstacles and challenges together, learning and growing hand in hand A lifetime with a serene afterglow beauty found in countless photographs
Once upon a blistering silhouette I wiped away my tears with feathers from the bitterness, I slept with misery and the faults I refused to see, the sun disappeared and my heart is vacant, the veil is ragged and torn, the anguish is dispersed and I wallow in the fields of exhaustion, guided by thorns and a cloud of animosity without a compass, I use to embrace the darkness, I bellow from the exotic tremors, hoping to discover the light I have forgotten, I have gripping dreams and an isolated peace I misplaced
Selected poems from each of Braeden Michaels’ first five books of poetry:
“The Raven’s Poison” – a full collection characterizing and describing all aspects of the human condition and emotions.
“Stella Walker’s Acquaintances” – character poetry surrounding the friends and acquaintances of a widowed woman as she reflects upon her life.
“Unpaved Crossroads” – poetry which depicts various scenes and moments in time, with a common theme of specific place throughout.
“Growl from the Sun” – a collection of political poetry including Michaels’ magnum opus of the same name, opining governmental and civic current events.
“For You, Love Always” – heart-touching and emotionally moving poetry for lovers.
stomach acid gorges the frame of the picture ceramic villains stand in the center of the image credit card smiles seek the light of the troubled road wallets become empty as they cling to the objects of the room
Love was just a word to deceive
camouflaged tears reckon within the twitching of souls charades is not just a game but the poison they drank daily They laid drunk in the center of the bed photographing plastic memories
From the mind of Braeden Michaels, drink from this cup, the raven’s poison, a concoction of his collected poems all about the human condition. Imbibe in the rainbow of emotions found in the soul’s colors and taste the bitter aftertaste when you’re drenched in rage.
Indulge in the reasons beneath dripping lust before absorbing all the ways we experience our wide-ranging flavors of love and finish off with a sip of self-destruction. This is us. Humanity. All the layers stripped away and arranged for your pleasure.
With bureaucracy, cities are filled with coal black odor and oily propaganda With a nation split, curbsides are weeping ignored tears With silent voices, the suburbs are submerged in delinquent credit cards With unlocked screens, cybersecurity is ringing in their ears With devastation, vacant buildings are filled with cynical vagabonds
Within the letters from Johnson Boulevard I can feel the thunderous chill I can feel the drops of poverty hit the ground
With phobias, the empyrean is brimming with frozen echoes and hallucinations With trampling chaos, wallets are vacant and figureheads spit out quarters With melancholy, anklebiters and adolescences lose a pinch of oxygen With blatant defamation, freedom is pulled and slapped With misinformation, points of view are written with a vindictive tongue With fraudulence, whispers and blackmail are sleeping in a king size bed
Within the letters from Johnson Boulevard I can feel the winter’s nights subside I can feel the battle’s fire descend
With deceit, finger pointing and raised eyebrows come with nail biting With money laundering, hands of indulgence are shaking With bombshells, ammunition comes in diabolical forms With sleep deprivation, insomnia is staring at the eyes of the moon With coercion, manipulation is a bouquet of addictive flowers With anger, the dust is swept away under a hand knotted rug
Within the letters from Johnson Boulevard I can feel the pride sparkle like a star I can feel the graveyard’s breeze glisten
With commentary, opinions shuffle and parade in the opaque air With disregard, wings disintegrate and laughter is tossed in the dumpster With hopelessness, arbitrary symptoms turn into a derogatory spell With disinterest, the jargon is masked with ill conceived agendas With double talk, the carelessness tone is at full volume
Within the letters from Johnson Boulevard I can feel liberty silently falling from her cheek I can feel the compassion scream as the ink dries
She bleeds heartbreak like tortured waves She bleeds drops of hopelessness on her vacant canvas She bleeds translucent sins and whiplash She bleeds numbness and savage cuts
Tormented sea, please don’t let me drown I have a will with armor and a fortress
She bleeds silent lightning and hollow caverns She bleeds lost yearnings and tainted echoes She bleeds obscurity with traces of animosity She bleeds contorted anxiety with frustration stuck in her throat
Tormented sea, please don’t let me drown I have a fire that won’t be extinguished
She bleeds nightmares with a voice of gnarled wars She bleeds a cry with torn rainbows and blazing reverberations She bleeds goodbye with a wailing fizzle She bleeds into yesterdays with tomorrows screeching
Tormented sea, please don’t let me drown I have something that you can’t see
I applaud you for the tenacity you carry on your shoulders I applaud you for the worth you see in your sensitive skin I applaud you for the struggles you slowly shed I applaud you for the fight you possess
Deep into the traces of your veins lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger
I could fall for your grace on stage
I applaud you for the courage that’s woven on your heart I applaud you for the compassion in your finger tips I applaud you for your articulate and sharp tongue I applaud you for the irresistible flame that burns within
Deep into the traces of your veins lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger
I could fall for your backbone in the limelight
I applaud you for the drops of heartache you turned into strength I applaud you for the affliction you endured and overcome I applaud your for not staring into your past with sinister eyes I applaud you for the intuition you carry like a candle
Deep into the traces of your veins lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger
I could fall for your aurora without touching your skin
I was sparks of eccentricity and she wore a hat of gumption I was a humming conundrum and she was a silver flask I barely sipped Yet I was polarizing in her sapphire eyes Something I will never understand I was a battle scene from bloodshed and she was a vase of harmony I was filled with indifference and she was full ofdrizzling kindness Yet I was magnetic in her sapphire eyes Something I will never comprehend I was a cookie cutter of complexity and she was a polygon of wonder I was a man of calculating conditions and she was overflowing with affection Yet I was appealing in her sapphire eyes Something I will never digest I was a pinch of numb nerves and she was a calm sea of beauty I was the king of carelessness and she was quite serene Yet I was engaging in her sapphire eyes Something I will never inhale
Bitter honey, the aftertaste is drowning the affection once pure turns into ink Disjointed and spots of spite stick to my worn-down tongue, I dwell inside
I lost my existence but found my shadow I lost my fears but found my perspective I lost my pride but found my character
Even in the despair, the calm was burning
Bitter honey, the aftermath is devastating the devotion once concrete crumbles Frail and specks of turmoil rushes down my frightened throat, I wallow inside
I lost my independence but found my direction I lost my truth but discovered the lies I lost my innocence but gained my wisdom
Even in the melancholy, the silence was light
Bitter honey, the afterthoughts are distant the tenderness once snug is crippled Cracked and traces of sorrow drip from my serenading eyelashes, I cringe inside
I lost my thirst but found my hunger I lost my laughter but found the jester within I lost my ghosts but found my guardian
The dark side is gravitating Scrambled thoughts of my reality Playing with the toys in my closet A world you could care less Claiming to know me completely You know what you want to know My efforts to shed dead skin get unnoticed I grin on the inside of these vandalized walls We share a love that wears many disguises that you refuse to see You chose to see only a few layers of me We display a miserable performance Consistently staring into my silence I can’t make you use your tongue I will never be enough or give enough You are as broken in pieces as me You don’t know how to walk away I dare you to walk away like the rest The grin expects the unexpected Can you spell the word depression Waiting for God to take me away You will understand me when I’m dead and gone And give more of yourself to another man The dark side is gravitating
I’m not worth a penny
You won’t see any shine on me
I’m only a dot on this earth
You won’t even notice I’m here
I’m not a decoration
You won’t see that I exist
I’m only made up of coal
You won’t even notice that I’m gone
I’m just a tragedy waiting to happen
You won’t even care that I spoke
I scream in silence
To recognize that I’m alone
I glared into a faded photograph of our founding fathers, where dogma was priceless,the ink used to place the period behind our Declaration of Independence spoke volumes, where freedom wasn’t part of a cliche or a sales pitch, where dreams were bright as the clouds on the Fourth of July, where individuality was embraced but businesses thrived from the word capitalism, when tax was minimal, but as generations progress with a letter from the alphabet, the labels make the period disappear,traditions were once cherished, differences were honored, education was a foundation, face to face communication was imperative, and tears from the moon never fell into the cracks of the sidewalk of Washington Street
I carefully placed the collectible portrait between the pages of one fifty seven and one fifty eight of my history book, nonchalantly I sat on the curbside, glancing at the emptiness, no bumper to bumper traffic, no obscenities lashed out, civilization working behind rectangular screens, nominal movement, and goods can purchased with the click of a button, inch by inch, decade by decade, the zest is thinning, the lawmakers relish in spending income that isn’t their own, hankering over tax brackets, salivating where to raise outlandish charges, pulling a percent from this pie from the chart, manipulating statistics, storytelling and fabricating, patiently waiting to feel the tears from the moon on the sidewalk of Washington Street
As I walked down Washington Street, I recognize too many boarded up buildings, morals and ethics were pennies that jingled in in legislators pockets, make no mistake “we are shrewd burglars that don’t need to break into your house to steal from you,” no bureaucracy is willing to save a dime, “Let’s not pretend, we love to spend” is the proverb for thieves in two piece suits, I can recollect the carpenters that hammered every nail to the bankrupt superstructures being unemployed minutes after the task was complete, the cosa nostra and baby-kissers are no longing working against each other, the henchmen and handshakers are exchanging recipes for disasters over a bottle of burgundy, chuckling, smoking Churchill cigars, reciprocating filthy and racist jokes behind doors of the dungeon, but hours later standing in front of billions with both hands together pleading “togetherness, one, unity” reading it from a teleprompter, fumbling through every word, and the sound of the crack pipe falls to the floor, the camera moves in a split second to ensure the puppet is protected by the exclusive, but let me remind you the stooge who can barely walk up a flight of stairs received eighty one million votes, let the confidence ripple, and the thunder in the catastrophic sky pierces a million ears across the globe, as I walk toward “The Devil’s Backbone Tavern” I could see the lightning whisper danger, my feet froze on the sidewalk of Washington Street
I entered the tavern and could hear the introduction of the spoken word from Ramsey Parker, a local townsman, with a raspy voice, with his arms swinging, a theatrical display…”Welcome to the the insidious circus, where the clowns are incoherent, and the ramblings labeled as a speech are gnarled and tangled, weaving in and out of grains of truth, silently signing executive orders to vaporize the capital air, beware, apathy is a tattoo on our forearm, endless pages of calculating distractions, categorized and classified, blindly swindled, if you disagree, childish tantrums will be heard, lack of respect and cohesion, popularity plummets, approval ratings dismissed, impeachment being tossed around like a softball, no hardball here, afraid to rock the sinking ship with a stumbling captain who is meant to be an oar thrown in the ocean of disgust, humanity struggling to keep their heads above water, if we throw you a life jacket, we own you! Safety wasn’t a priority, designed for the survivors to be a minority” Ramsey shouted at the top of his lungs “Wake up America before it’s too late” grab your weapon, freedom, parade Washington Street, bark at the moon and pray it doesn’t cry
The sipping regulars clapped their hands, even the bottles of bourbon and scotch are pointing fingers, the mice on the thirty year old floor scrambled from the outspoken rhetoric, the shadows on the wall nod their heads, the bartender wipes down the hallucinations over and over, the optimism shrieks like a ghost, the misfits in the booth exchange civic points of view, babbling on about equal wealth distribution, working twenty five hour weeks, bellowing over exhaustion, taking orders from convicted illegal empty headed authority figures, the bystander on the left is a former navy seal listening to the nonsense, a man who carried laurels on his back, with eyes like a sniper, capturing detail like an artist, shrugging his shoulders walking away, discomfort is drank on the rocks, while truth is an invisible spot, heading for the door to leave a place of familiarity yet smelling a stench of wrecking change
Author and poet Braeden Michaels delves into the many-layered political realms in his newest collection, Growl from the Sun. Beginning with his fourteen-page magnum opus of the same name, he confronts and denounces modern society and the politics of the day. No stone is left unturned. There are no sides, no labels, only raw emotion and unbending truth. This gritty selection of poetry is sure to provoke introspection and deep conversations for any who dare open its pages.
I started out a project about almost a year ago on “love poems” and within less fifteen poems I didn’t like the direction of what I was trying to accomplish. As a poet, I write more as a storyteller and sometimes forget why I started writing as a treen. Then it was an outlet and personal, something I needed. As I glanced at my project it didn’t take long for reality to slap me in the face. I am married to my inspiration. I see my light and the woman who said “yes” in a church. I’m hard on myself and consistently think I have to accomplish things to be something and someone. It became easy to continue this project once I made it more personal. Once complete, I handed my wife a copy and told her to flip to the dedication page. I’m not a perfect husband and willing to admit when I’m wrong. Every day that I wake up I know that I am blessed with more I could ever imagine. I am married to a woman with the strength of a lion, heart made of pure gold, and doesn’t have an ounce of selfishness. This collection has every shade of love! Grab a copy and swim in an ocean of poetry that awakens all of your senses.