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


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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

And she seduces hour by hour


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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


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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


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Ceramic Villains

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

Love was just a word that they wanted to believe


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Grab a copy!

“The journey of self discovery is never ending.”

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.


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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


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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


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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


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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


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Bitter Honey

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

Even in the dashed hope, the fall was awakening


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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


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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

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Scarlet’s Sin

Once upon a secret breeze
thirst and hunger tasted like transgression
Unhinged rage sought out an odyssey
from a provocative voice

And I swim into the deep of the saliva

A voluptuous silhouette in the sky
playing with precarious flames
splash of kerosene, a fatal match
Entwined in intoxicating magic

And I swim into the deep of the cravings

Disoriented from a hazardous touch
A forgotten goodbye evaporated
Dumbfounded and flabbergasted
Sucked in from a beloved sin

And I swim into the deep of the desire

Glazed from the saturation
Distracted and preoccupied
Falling in a pitfall of a fascination
Sinking deeper into the scarlet

And I swim into the deep where I may drown


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Except from “Unpaved Crossroads”

I’ve been in love with the nectar and the sour drippings of you
I’ve been captured by the glaze of your caress
I’ve been in awe by the comfort and the shivers of your embrace
I’ve been enamored by the never ending kisses and the affection
I’ve been mesmerized by the sparkle dancing in your midnight eyes

And the love with you is breathtaking
And the love with you is indescribable
And the love with you is remarkable
And the love with you has opened me up

After so many years
I wouldn’t have changed a second

I’ve been in love with the honey and the radiant treasures of you
I’ve been enchanted by your words and glamorous skin
I’ve been aching for the centerpiece to wake me up and feel alive
I’ve been daydreaming of an endless love
I’ve been intoxicated by the shimmering light twinkling in your soul

And the love with you is breathtaking
And the love with you is indescribable
And the love with you is remarkable
And the love with you has opened me up

After so many years
I wouldn’t have changed a minute


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Here I am, I don’t have followers
I have sanguine blisters and
indecisions stirring in my reckless mind
I’ve stood in the corridor of my considerations
and wide eyed aspirations
I’ve been guided by intolerable vices, a stench of trivial knowledge and sarcasm
I have concoctions growing in my garden
I’ve borrowed money from my child like brother
to rent a house not far from the Porcupine River
We use to play like thieves, run like dogs,
and wrestle in the amber mud for hours
I live in a two bedroom apartment,
One block away from the Midtown bakery
On Sunday’s I can smell the Apple fritters
I’ve worked at the local grocery store since I was fifteen
“Lucky” isn’t a word in my vocabulary
I bite my fingernails as I ponder in front of my 1971 typewriter
From 9pm to 10pm I’m a rapid reader
I fell in love with Mark Twain and the storytellers from the innocent wild
Stuck on the lucid and elusive chapter ten
Captivated between the commas and engaging dialogue
I cough at the errors and sniffle at the page count of my thrill seeking novel
I stretch out my imagination like a rubber band
Manuscript growing like a an oak tree
Here I am, born an offbeat writer
The people who know me stand distant
Afraid to crawl inside the brain of characters
I left my day job at the age of forty two
Perspiration and diligence were on my side


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Exchanging histories, undiscovered blessing
She was born with silent violet butterflies
dancing in her “catch my breathe” eyes
A surreal connection, depth with curves
She walks with simplicity dripping from
her mysterious and irresistible lips

And she sings with heartache and strength
And she sings with brilliant magic
And she sings with white hot conviction
And her inner beauty is a magnificent star

I walk through the forest listening to her enchanted voice
I walk through the forest following her footprints

Kindhearted edges, carrying wreckage
She carries invincible wings over her
worn out and distressed shoulders
crystals floating in her periwinkle soul
She lights up in the dark like a firefly
armed with blistering faith

And she sings with heartache and strength
And she sings with brilliant magic
And she sings with white hot conviction
And her inner beauty is a magnificent star

I walk through the forest concentrating on her enchanted voice
I walk through the forest guided by her dazzling spirit


My books are available here.