Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight,
And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the marquees weren’t weeping, they went stark-raving mad,
And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made
And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill,
And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill
And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins,
And the raconteurs and roustabouts said “Buddy, come on in, ’cause
‘Cause the dreams ain’t broken down here now, they’re walking with a limp
Now that Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight”
And nobody flinched down by the arcade
And the burglar alarm’s been disconnected,
And the newsmen start to rattle
And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle
And the fire hydrants plead the Fifth Amendment
And the furniture is bargains galore
But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor
And what a hot rain on Forty-Second Street,
And now the umbrellas ain’t got a chance
And the newsboy’s a lunatic with stains on his pants, ’cause
‘Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight

Flourishing joy
An abundance of butterflies
Sinking in mush
Overflowing of blossoms
My daunting sunshine

Saturated in kisses
Caressing precious skin
Merging as an invincible love
Weaves of everlasting innocence
My daunting sunshine

Unraveling the power of touch
Overwhelming grace
Drowning in your beauty
Falling for a miracle
My daunting sunshine

Lying in narcosis

Descending in narcissism

brushing up against controversy

Collapsing into the static

Toppling onto the obsolete scenes

Squabbling over a chalice of ethics

Between the upside down convictions

and the cone shaped postulates

The marrow of my identity cringes

Glaring at the nervous complexion

A temperament slowly dividing

Daydreams sorrowing in the cloverleaf

My sun has set, I dwell
In darkness as a dead man out of sight;
And none remains, not one, that I should tell
To him mine evil plight
This bitter night.
I will make fast my door
That hollow friends may trouble me no more.

‘Friend, open to Me.’—Who is this that calls?
Nay, I am deaf as are my walls:
Cease crying, for I will not hear
Thy cry of hope or fear.
Others were dear,
Others forsook me: what art thou indeed
That I should heed
Thy lamentable need?
Hungry should feed,
Or stranger lodge thee here?

‘Friend, My Feet bleed.
Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.’
I will not open, trouble me no more.
Go on thy way footsore,
I will not rise and open unto thee.

‘Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see
Who stands to plead with thee.
Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou
One day entreat My Face
And howl for grace,
And I be deaf as thou art now.
Open to Me.’

Then I cried out upon him: Cease,
Leave me in peace:
Fear not that I should crave
Aught thou mayst have.
Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,
Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.
What, shall I not be let
Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?

But all night long that voice spake urgently:
‘Open to Me.’
Still harping in mine ears:
‘Rise, let Me in.’
Pleading with tears:
‘Open to Me that I may come to thee.’
While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:
‘My Feet bleed, see My Face,
See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,
My Heart doth bleed for thee,
Open to Me.’

So till the break of day:
Then died away
That voice, in silence as of sorrow;
Then footsteps echoing like a sigh
Passed me by,
Lingering footsteps slow to pass.
On the morrow
I saw upon the grass
Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door
The mark of blood for evermore.

Hello All,

I am sure many have noticed that I have not been on here in a while. You can find me on instagram.

I have not posted any new material due to some soul searching and over time you will see my blog change. I am currently in transition and reinventing myself as a writer.

I appreciate all of your support.

Thank you,

Braeden

I want to break your traditionalism

I want to unleash the lion underneath

I want to unveil the darkest red

I want to feel the wrath of your lipstick

I want to feel your mold crumble

I want to feel your transformation

I want to reveal your ripped secrets

I want to throw away the blue towel

I want to move side by side with you

I want to roll the dice in the flames

I want to be ignited by your thoughts

I want to prance in your amazing mind

I want to make you let go of the fear

Loving the nectar

Loving the juice

Loving the heavenly bliss

Loving the squirm

Loving the flow

Loving the delight

Loving the sounds

Loving the movements

Loving the wetness

Loving the sighs

Loving the taste

Loving the feast

Loving the peak

Loving the spasms


Check out my books!

Define the magnitude of one word

A parentheses around the verb

State the clarity in one sentence

Clarify the significance of the emotion

Stagger around the density

Between the solitude and frustration

Singularity sticks to loneliness

Revelations bound to ignorance

Disregarding the format of communication

Absolutely disheartening

Wasted chapter sealed shut


Check out my books!

Available on Amazon

I felt the slick editing

pawing the lust in the paragraphs

Turn the page

I was lured by the gravitational pull

and the scent of the ink

Turn the page

I stared at the flames between

each word

Turn the page

I must confess that ecstasy was

painted with your sighs

Turn the page

I stood between the desires and

the tingling sensations

Turn the page

I watched the letters blend into one

as our insides turned into mush

Turn the page

Saxophone is singing on 9th street
To the rhythm of bus doors opening and closing
Shuffling of feet gliding on the concrete
Chewing gum sticking to the bottom of brand new shoes
Limousines pulling up to a twenty dollar whore
Staring up at the lemon sun above the empty playground
Children glued to their iPhones, laptops, and technical galore
Struggling to see the reality of obesity with every fast food chain on the corner
Taxes rise as our education system falls
Blaming presidents, corporate America, government officials,
And not looking at ourselves in the stain glass
Reflections of wealth, greed, and money grow as our morals decrease as generations pass us by
And the acoustic guitar plays the melody to the gamblers, sinners, and welfare checks to those who abuse the system
Perception is only seen through the eyes of a republican or a democrat
There is no jester in the middle
And the saxophone continues to play on the 9th street
As we become more in tuned with ourselves others really don’t matter
Racism still continues as wars between religions rise around us
And the harmonica plays for Jesus
Remembering why we are here
We should be embracing all of the joys of life
Instead we try to hide our tears

I walk around with sanity

wrapped around my cold neck

I chatted with the in acid reflux

stuck in my throat

I slept with the hurricanes

surrounding the monster within

I fell into the ocean that

consumes the wreckage outside

I stood in front of the villains

that stole love from the monsoon

I left the darkest tunnel

to seek empathy in the light

I haunted grief like the night wept

under the hooked stars

I woke up from the phantasm

and threw away the silence to breathe

Thoughts of you bend ninety degrees

Fallen words seem to swirl

We are candy among strangers

Sweetness drips from the corners

Deep scars displayed widely

Thoughts of you doesn’t see an exit

Ignoring temptations and attraction

Feeling small and idiotic

Gripping onto selfishness

Desiring someone unattainable

Exacerbated teeth

Displeased tone

Fiercely antagonized

Resentful up to the neck

Offensive esophagus

Twitching irrationally

Ill tempered and fuming

Provoked by repetition

Inflamed and irritated

Constantly harping

Strapped in defense

Whiplashing an offense

Sore and wrathful

Frozen solid to the center

A fistful of anger

Disrespectful and disregarded

Mouthful of harsh words

A storming outburst

Hanging acid from the corners

Bitter and twice bitten

Open up the wounds

One brutal tongue lashing

I’ve fallen between the snarl and the calm whispers

I’ve fallen between the thin cracks and the hollow cries

I’ve fallen between insignificance and crumbs of emptiness

I’ve fallen between the corners and crevices of brokenness

I’ve fallen between the remains and disguised pieces

I’ve fallen between the torn walls and dreary coatings

I’ve fallen between apathy and a misfit playing in the black

I’ve fallen between misery and torture dancing in my blank eyes