The serpentine somnambulence of fire,
like a drop of a dragon, encapsulated in
pine kindling and smoking oak, the stone
fireplace watches her as she poems ink,
birthing galaxies on old parchment, and
as the flames grow, she sees sentences
dancing in the gold and orange, alight
muses nine of Apollo, burning just for her.

Under a catastrophic star he stares into the abyss of the flames. Forgotten love hibernates within the charcoal as he gazes at her lost wick. Castles drift in his mind as he wishes the blaze never died out. She stands in front of the tangerine edges seeing her soul be reignited.

There are bonds of ashes that settle like
the dust of an old book with intaglios of
her former lover in the flames, immolated,
she was a witch on a pyre for him, he was
gasoline poured onto her bonfire, and now
all that is left are dead nebulae and ghosts
of “I do.” She arises a phoenix, only to see
him, in the space between shadows, a ghost.

There are screams within the chandelier dreams. There are fires within the light, there is a glimpse of light in the flames. No matter where he turns, no matter where she rises, there will always be a breeze of ink. Hearts need to bleed, veins need to cry, and pages never fade. The gust of memories will live forevermore.


Dances with TrickstersItalics

Braeden Michaels – Non Italics

It was a pleasure to collaborate with Allie. Please check out her blog!

There’s a blue ball in the gutter
The willows weep amidst the oaks
Drunk street sweepers spreading trash in the air
Abandoned porch swings on hundred year old houses
Blackstrap molasses dripping from that window seal

The Post office is flooded with lost letters of love
The PTA is full of divorced housewives giving the acronym new meaning
The cathedral on 2nd street has been empty
for a decade
The minister can only preach on Sunday’s playing poker sipping on whiskey

Faded hopscotch in rundown school yards
Old man Beetle dressed to the nines for a walk to the donut shop
Laughing girls in pigtails tossing a coin in the fountain
That woman there sneaking a smoke behind the doctors office
What is that strange smell in the air

The asphalt has pot holes screaming murder
Stop signs blushing like lovers on the beach
57’ Chevy is chasing the rabid dog around the square
Rhinestone glasses waitress wins lottery goes broke in sixty seconds
And the pond on Summersby Lane has fish crooning Dean Martin

A police chase down Main st
Same story same time last week
Dirty little secrets of hit it and quit it
Who’s that the preachers wife driving on the wrong side of the street
It’s poison from the power plant on the edge of town

The crab apple tree has leaked mystique
On the bottom of Lake Plateau lives six dead men
And Butchers Field has dancing scarecrows
And the Barber Shop on 3rd Street has chatter that never ends

Peculiar feeling here
The sign at the homeless shelter has been blinking less for years
That house on the corner a double murder suicide
Swept under the rug in the police chiefs house
Don’t mind me I’m just the messenger

Crime rates doubled downtown
Not a dime or a fade penny on the streets
Too many ex lovers chugging medicine at Stella’s Bar
Not enough landscapes or rivers on this side of town
No one here sits on a porch gazing at the stars
Too many staring at the end of a bottle


Braeden – Italics

Stella – Non Italics

This was a fun collaboration with Stella! Check out her blog if you haven’t!

Stumbling in and out
A blurry vision stuck in the corner
Moments ripped at the seams
Strangers on the edge of thirst

There was a rush
Some unspoken urgency
His alluring eyes dripped desire
Intoxicated with need

Thoughts unraveled
Urges climbing to the top
Animalistic hunger bitten
Senses enhanced

A throbbing pain
Engulfed her senses
Enthralled and smitten
By his glance

Intensity bursting
Hidden gliding hand
Slightly revealing
Inevitable attraction

Both were in trance
Captive in each other’s arms
Heaving and breathing
Forgetting all moral qualms

Deep thrusts of fire
Like a train in a tunnel
Torn clothes
Devouring velvet

Their night of passion
Met the break of dawn
They savored each moment
And moaned to climax


Braeden – Italics

Sakshi– Non Italics

Check out Sakshi’s blog if you haven’t!

I didn’t mean to fall for your
magnificent intellect and brilliant eyes

I didn’t mean to fall for your
stunning curves and accent

I didn’t mean to fall for your
innocent laugh and magnetic charm

I didn’t mean to fall for your
echoing fortress and wide skies

I didn’t mean to fall for your
lips of ecstasy and golden tongue

I didn’t mean to fall for your
luscious skin and blissful scent

I didn’t mean to fall for your
beloved moon and drops of silver

I didn’t mean to fall for your
desirous flame and solid wick

I didn’t mean to fall for your
intoxicating personality

still we have no control over destiny
and luck is not the same as fate.
Reflections blending through a window
lovers and strangers, the cruelest fate.
My heart is a bird trailing its shadow
Its course charted and true</
I never meant to fall,
but I’ve fallen like the night for you.


Holly – Italics

Braeden – Non Italics


Check out Holly’s blog if you haven’t!

This was fun to collaborate with her!

Watching caterpillars smile

Hands digging in the dirt

Ankles in slosh and goo

Filthy and funny tomboy

Tossing dolls away

Playing with plastic trucks

Stacking blocks up high

Mind of a engineer

Embracing complexity

Mastering the rubix cube

in under four minutes

Sophisticated and grown

Intimidated by her intellect

Accomplished with accolades

Fearing the all knowing woman

knowing exactly what she wants


Mary – artwork

Braeden – Poem


Check out her blog if you haven’t, not only can she do art she can write. Mary is extremely very talented! She created the art based on the poem. She did an awesome job!

This is her book, Dakota Son.

Photographs stir inside
Grasping a birthday wish
Thirst and hunger subside
Frustrations built like a wall

Slowly, yet with sated ease,
Allowing you to enter,
You break the walls of slicing past
And pull me from my centre

Staring at what I should have done
Gravitating to a brand new me
No longer sipping on cravings
Voices stretch out to you

Allowing words to touch my sense
It may have left me long ago…
And in the midst of innocence
I tremble as new wings grow

Sweet fascination spreads
Leaping for your finger tips
Throwing away could haves
October skies open up

I let the rain pour over me
Cleanse my doubts and cure my mind,
Cast out shadows of bruised yesterdays
Tiptoe through days I’m yet to find

Reborn and teary eyed
Appreciation drenched in our song
Fallen and tattered
Still seeing and clenching on to you

My voice cries notes of you and I,
You heal my wounds, I will not die
In storms I hold you, beat your heart
A molten canvas, whispered art.


Braeden – Non Italics

Fiery – Italics

Check out Fiery’s blog if you haven’t! This was really fun and enjoyed collaborating with her!

Unpaved pitch black
Torturous and twisting
Glaring at a rustic sign
Unrecognizable and foreign
A lump in my throat

Cracked rear view mirror
Pieces of a faded sunset
Reflect a wrong direction
No map to point us South
Toward a new life, new route

Passing up Evergreen Cafe
Sipping on luke warm French Vanilla
Clenching to my hand
Whispering fear next to me
Grasping onto hope like a flask

I slip a quarter in the jukebox
My lips moving to a song
Forgotten in the tattered backseat
A memory that makes me yearn
For heat, flesh and forgiveness

Locked in the friend zone
Secrets guarded with a flag
Minimal and discrete conversation
Continually crossing borders
Stations only turned twice

Silence embraces then suffocates
Greener pastures a mirage
Our defenses are stone walls
Covered with heavy sighs
My hand crosses the fine line

Stuck at a broken light
Struck by the moving sensation
Trying to hide the risen tension
As she stares at my flush face
Urges from her leap forward

Unsure if he will yield
to the congestion of emotion
My smile a signal or a hazard
Time for me to shift gears
And fuel his lost passion

In the midst of driving
Unthinkable and unforgettable
Lips surrounded
Lighting a fire
Masterful tongue

The windows fogged
With curvaceous temptation
Our journey begins anew
A landscape drawn and devoured
In flashes of passing lights

Barriers removed
No caution tape around
Wanted and needed
Slipping into her palm
Astonished and amazed


Braeden – Non Italics

Amberangst – Italics

Check out Whiskey Tales and Spells if you haven’t! This was really fun to collaborate with her!

The fables between us
Satirical metaphors prance
The ironies bleed pretty white lies
Sarcasm bursts like ejaculation
Covered in Satan’s thick liquid
Storybook pages stick together

The fables between us
Sardonic recitals
Recited by jesters and
Ponies dance in time while
His portal opens to swallow us all

Sadistic hymns
Written by gargoyles and
Unicorns prance in the clocks while
Her throat opens to consume the tale

Sadistic hymns
Hummed at Sunday Mass
Panic the court and
Constable is lighted aflame

Tarnished fairy tales
Scripted by euphoric lovers
Dripping sweat lingers in the air
Scent of religious perfume
Lurks between the satin sheets

Tarnished fairy tales
Playwrights
Tragedians
Star-crossed nothing
But sky
Moonlight paints you
Angel white and me
The daemon

Stonewashed dogma
Doctrines drenched in your spit
Undressed teachings
Relentlessly misinterpreted
Forgotten verses
Lyrics shredded
Constantly concaved
Staring into the phantasm
Sucked in by your gospel

Stonewashed dogma
Canon loaded
Peace be with you…


Kindra – Italics

Check out her blog if you haven’t! It’s always fun to collaborate with Kindra!

Braeden – Non Italics

Darling of the thrill

Coldness disappears

Sizzling personality

Vivacious and ascending

Tingling excitement

A soaring surge bolts

Incredibly desiring

Sparkling complexion

Provocative to the bone

Risqué and spicy

A tint of crimson

Far away and distant

Crushes my spirit


Mary – artwork

Braeden – Poem


Check out her blog if you haven’t, not only can she do art she can write. Mary is extremely very talented! This is our second collaboration and loved the artwork!

This is her book, Dakota Son.

Laced in Frost

Drawn with a silver tip

Blessed with perfect tip

Awestruck in alabaster

Bleached with kindness

Dipped with sweetness

Heart shaped like a pearl

A generous soul

Nurturing and polished

Delicate as a china doll

Maybe too fragile

Brittle and Frail


Mary – artwork

Braeden – Poem


Check out her blog if you haven’t, not only can she do art she can write. Mary is extremely very talented! She created the art based on the poem. I was very pleased!

This is her book, Dakota Son.

Once upon a time,
I used to wish for a love like ours,
Once upon a time
I pondered that very phrase.
I sat under those bright stars beside you
and saw the words “forever” ring in my ears.

Or at least a love that the stars would forever engrave in themselves,
To be look upon with awe and wonder,

Questions of how did they over come the odds and make it to that kind of happiness,
A love worthy of songs and fairy tales and beauty,
As we gazed into each other’s eyes
I wanted to see a glimpse of happiness.
In my heart I could feel the world stop
but darling in my mind our lives continued
.

But I’m starting to find that once upon a time only begin once,
The moment had scratches and it was no longer clear to me.
The only clarity I saw was that we should no longer stare in the fairy tale and stare into reality.

And everything that falls in between is up to chance.
Love is just not a word in a song, card, or in a poem.
Love isn’t just displayed in a movie scene or a play.
Love requires action, consistency, and a splash of romance.

So darling, I could be your perfect once upon a disaster,
Tangles in the highest tower laced with thorns and roses, tasted in the last bite of the poisoned apple,
Or….or we can work to create a new fairy tale.
Once I threw our written fairy tale in the trash can I grabbed a note pad.
I wrote 10 reasons why I am madly in love with you.
I wrote 10 reasons why I want to be with you.
I tore this sheet out of the notepad and placed it on the refrigerator.

Let the old stars die, fall with the hearts of those before us,
I don’t need a fairy tale nor a “Once Upon A Time” beginning.
Sweetheart, my love, I just need to be open, expressive, intuitive, caring, and considerate.

And lets give birth to a new galaxy full of stars that will shine and dazzle those who look up and wish a forever on once upon a time….
If I truly love you, every day that word “forever” will truly mean something.
Forever starts with my attitude, outlook, and the desire to show you how much you mean to me.


A Writer’s Soul – Non Italics

Overflowing Ink – Italics


I had done a collaboration with Kristen and it was quite fun! Kristen is a wonderful writer. Please check out her blog if you haven’t – you will read some great poetry!

“Unable to perceive the shape of you, I find you all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart, for you are everywhere.”

You are the Breath of Passion
The Embodiment of all my Heart beats for,
Longs for,
All this understanding
So unworthy of the least of You,
Can ever perceive.

You are the blood in my veins 
Saliva drippings from the fire ooze magic 
All this longwinded gust 
Soar through every inch of 
my glowing urges

Stars that span the ebon Nighttide,
Miracles of Light and Time
are mere phantoms,
shallow and hapless,
Unremembered figments of Yesterday
Compared to the Depth of my Love

I can see fragments of the twinkles 
Sweat pouring from the golden heavens 
Caught in a whirlwind of passion 
Your moans are magnetizing 
Never ending cravings 
Watching you grip the sheets, sigh

All that Speaks of mystery
All that Whispers portentous enigmas
All the Hums with the Vibrancy of Forever
Are Fading shadows,
Dim and Meaningless
Compared to the Depth of my Passion

Caution tape ripped 
Entering euphoria without bounds
Slippery and yet rough edges 
Lip biting memories etched 
Nonexistent tenderness 
Unleashed saturations 

How I Sigh in your Sweet Embrace!
How my skin yearns for the Touch of Your hands,
How these lips long to be Kissed by Yours,
How I have waited,
Breathless, Trapped, Longing
For Your Sweet Honeyed Love!

A bellow of raw words 
Intoxicating oceans 
Commanding you to vulnerability
Taste the lava, taste the lava 
Overwhelming fervor 
Yearning for more 


This was a joy to collaborate with Morgan!

Braeden – Italics

Morgan – Non


Cynthia A. Morgan is an award-winning author & blogger; columnist for the national publication Fresh LifeStyle Magazine; and member of the Poetry Society of America and Artists for Peace. Creator of the Epic YA Fantasy Dark Fey Trilogy, Morgan’s powerful story relates how the power of Hope, Acceptance and Forgiveness can change the world when Positive Action is taken to create change.  The only way to achieve Peace is to become Peace.

Morgan is also the author of the popular blog Booknvolume where her over 17K followers are regularly treated to Morgan’s own brand of poetry, English Sonnets, musings about life, personal recipes, photography, book reviews and more.

https://booknvolume.com