Excess and greed on your tongue is a virus
concrete selfishness in your bones is a virus
distaste is a pill you swallow that tsunamis into a virus
malice is a never ending cough that explodes into a virus

And the spiral continues due to mass consumption
And the circular poison seeps into
your oxygen

hatred is a migraine that curves into a virus
envy is a venom that distorts into a shape of a virus
contempt is a concoction that awakens a virus
indulgence is a sip of vertigo that provokes a virus

And the longing for abundant security boils your integrity in your blood cells
And the hunger for wealth evolves in extermination

Consume at your own risk


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Growl from the Sun IV

And I tumbled for the architecture of the
cathedrals across the United States,
And the bricklayers who cemented spirituality
but shouted from rooftops at the turtle
pace of change among all the religions
And I found the backbone of faith and hope
relies on the individuals silver wisdom
“Experience” breaks or defines conviction
And loyalty just doesn’t reside in a chapel
I pray for the dying in my queen size bed
blending creed and politics is a toxic brew
And I cherished the artistic expressions on
the tarp, I was once fond of the textures
of our melting pot, I could taste the spices
and the tranquility, I use to take walks
in the garden of glee and feel the gust

But now the commander in chief raises
his disturbing hands, disrespecting our
ancestors, crippling the population,
And the sun bursts through the smog
with fury, the outbreak surges in the wind

The note is rejected…
“embrace all the materialism, self righteous possessions, gold and glitter, let the poison
eat your soul, feel the edges of your heart
burn, you prioritized your choices, the angels left you a long time ago”

I can’t weep for the wicked and vicious
I can’t weep for the manipulating tycoon
I can’t weep for the shallow ministry
I can’t weep for the blatant facade
I can’t weep for the glowing charades
I can’t weep for the brazen frontage
I can’t weep for the vibrant myths
I can’t weep for the singing deception

And the chill in the air reeks of self indulgence
insects crawling on infectious patriarchs
but numb from the riddles of greed
spewing a language of hatred and fear
And tearing into the poverty stricken class
gazing out into the seas of madness
And the wrecking machine, mechanisms, and the machinery used to oversee the mass
It’s the weapon and invisible bomb slithering
inside every human nervous system
You cry out safety and protection, misleading
from your glass throne, step by step you are entering your exodus, your skin is exiled
but your veins are hollow, calling yourself a leader, rushing to dismantle and depopulate
And the pieces of the massacre lies within you

But now the commander in chief raises
his disturbing hands, disrespecting our
ancestors, crippling the population,
And the sun bursts through the smog
with fury, the outbreak surges in the wind

The note is rejected…
“embrace all the materialism, self righteous possessions, gold and glitter, let the poison
eat your soul, feel the edges of your heart
burn, you prioritized your choices, the angels left you a long time ago”

I can weep for the innocent
I can weep for the fighters and warriors
I can weep for the fearless soldiers
I can weep for the sobbing children
I can weep for the unheard prayers
I can weep for the melody I never heard
I can weep for the deserving souls
I can weep for the fathers and mothers

And the sun will forever moan behind the clouds
And technology will continue to evolve
And God will remain quiet until the day he returns
He will leave the soulless the keys to the inferno

I’m scrawling, swept away from the discord,
pleading to the amber crescent, hanging in the
audacious sky, gazing at the mindless clones,
no dismay of what will become, aggravation
turns into stone, eyelashes curve into dust,
puddles of demise, a graphite cyclone revolving around the fall, a population relinquishing to the avalanche, I scowl to the prognosis, hindsight is rubble, my conjecture is not a conspiracy, veracity is underneath the facade, I refuse to swallow the debris, I trash the publications, I displace the buzzards, I ignore the indoctrination, I carry my drum, I am the feather that flies with placid eyes, I don’t place stamps on foreheads

To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons
To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow
To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun

To the helpless sun, the indifference is a path to nevermore, but show us your sparkle, we pine for your radiance, numbness is not your color, your rays are in mourning, the lechery is within the choice, the preference to wear blinders, floundering into traps, shuffling excuses, pardon the shallow, explanation with holes, to the sun you are not accountable

I’m scrawling, furiously with an ambiguous message, forgive the gratuitous cyborgs, deception and the distortion was carved, the falsehood was chiseled, sculpted by self centered dastards, mercenaries injecting conflict with psychological warfare, no intersections, a blue print of disjuncture, a frazzled atmosphere, frayed and stripped,
scoundrels running ramped, policies dipped
into indulgence, documents soaked in disarray,
I lean into the incoherent ramblings, methodical
studies forged, verbatim tampered with spots of evasion, defamation spreading like a sickness, I refuse to consume the prozac,
paragraphs bellow with a enriched voice

To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons
To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow
To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun

To the forlorn and damaged sun, please shimmer where there is darkness, let the gleam fill in the crevices, please shine where pieces are lost, let the air rejoice in your magic,
please be the aspiration to the cosmos, you are the enlightened preservation, you are the marvelous treasure, without you there is no growth, to the sun – you are not accused for the increased vibrations of the earth


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I can foreshadow a society crumbling
from applied science, twisting theories contorted plasma, and friction analysis
thesis based on wealth and leaking myths
Pillars from a system situated in sand
a sinking infrastructure, vanishing unity
colorless pupils plagued with a manuscript
spineless leaders, particles of blunders piling up, giant omissions paralyzing the fabric,
Programmed illnesses with a pinch of
annihilation, nations weeping counterfeit
drops of sadness, gradually seeking
contemporary alliances, executive orders
bleeding extermination, outlined syndromes
with a hint of illusions, corruption in the palms of the establishment, enigmatic statistics
catapulted in a ocean of the deceased

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I saw a glimpse of paradise, toddlers playing with brilliance, wonder, and a light breeze serenading through the air as a teenager
drinking water from fire hydrants, in front
of provincial chateaus, clarity and modesty
was a thread, surrounded by a crooning sky
of beliefs and faith, conviction is just an
antique sitting in a clammy basement,
wrapped up in newspaper with headlines
of World War Two, buried in a crate labeled
“Precious and few”, where dreams shifted, echoed, and the revolution within was smoldering, freedom was sung by entrepreneurs, capitalists, and poetry was
a blue jay flying from tree to tree, love was
a drink we all consumed and sipped all through
the decorated nights, yet today the clowns
wear painted tears and smiles are weary

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I am madly in love with the metaphors from
Walt Whitman, sweetness waltzing through Dickinson’s verses, where landscapes feel the sunlight, rain drizzling on white picket fences,
I fell for the similes that left glitter on my fingertips, ballads that reverberate within the words, stanzas that capture charm, but in the present I read a direct message, thoughts thrown on paper within seconds, impressions not thought provoking, automation becomes a crutch, loneliness seeking attention, reality drifting like a hitchhiker, dwindling patience, crime rising like flames in death-wish fields, scarecrows parading cracked pavement,
insanity yells, neon lights flicker every three minutes, like an apocalypse, but keep your
view on the illuminating screen, sarcasm spasms, bellies filled with microwaved meals

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve browsed countless articles of chemicals
being dumped in soil, animated creeks, flowing rivers, deep cobalt seas, and wide oceans
sweep it under the Persian rug, deposit the funds, retract it, close the column, turn off the comments, ignore the facts, don’t read it, let your fog disregard the bedrock of our country,
Freedom is the eagle on our printed currency
“In God We Trust” wasn’t coined by non- believers, deceivers, and tinted lawmakers
In a heap of literature, liberty isn’t just a statue,
a symbolism of integrity, war and peace,
mother of monuments, breathtaking torch,
Goddess of our Declaration of Independence,
classic signature standing in Manhattan, New York, she is the sanctuary of our nation, yesterday can’t be expelled, removed or deleted, Can I erase your self-righteous past?

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve seen grownups stomp their feet,
throw child like tantrums over slim debates
with cursed words thrown like daggers
I’ve seen electronic devices used to record
heinous crimes, satirical protests, and
mind bending disturbances across the globe
videographers portraying innocence,
displaying evidence, defending irresponsibility
I’ve seen switchblades pulled out over
loose change and collected indifferences
I’ve seen incompetency to be irrelevant,
tenure a driving force, dynasties collapsing
I’ve seen bewilderment shine brighter
than quickness and keen observations
I’ve seen enlightenment and murky insight
wither in closets at a candlelit masquerade

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve seen cemetery’s of soldiers that gave
you rights, freedom, and opportunities
I’ve seen flags placed over coffins, brothers
in arms subbing, veterans in wheelchairs,
struggling to tell a tale, medals of honor with insomnia, abolished slavery, rise of women’s rights, PTSD worn on every soldiers sleeve,
But keep your eyelids on the screens, watch “Grand Opening” signs become obsolete, do what you do best, do nothing, stand for nothing, mankind defusing, watch the word
“Entitled” become sewn on our flag, replacing
the fifty gold stars, watch Betsy Ross cringe,
stare into the tears of the sun, feel the winter for decades ahead, watch the selfish gloat,
glare at the chill, embrace the still of the frost,

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun


My books are available here.

Robert Frost examines “The Road Not Taken”
I reach for the boulevards that will leave you breathless and your hands shaking
I gravitate to the discoveries, lost souls and serenity in the changing lanes
I am magnetized to those who pick up the pieces and leave the remains
I find light, truth, and spirituality between
the signs
I spill the ink on what humanity can not find
I find the dark, screams, and tears at the intersections
I savor the twinkling memories despite the disconnections
I embrace the scenery while driving extremely slow
Get on the off ramp, turn on Unpaved Crossroads

Every road tells a story

Pre-order is now available for the ebook!


My books are available here.

(1st Verse)
I want you to be the rain in my Indian summer
I want you to be my queen of magic under the covers
I want you to be the sun on my darkest day
I want you to be my symphony on center stage
I want you to be my candlelight in the dark
I want you to be the butterflies circling around my heart

CHORUS
Come on baby,
I know you can feel it too
I can see my life with you
Come on baby,
I want to feel you in my arms
I want to wake up knowing you are my lucky charm

(2nd Verse)
I want you to be the light breeze in my storms
I want you to be my blanket to keep me warm
I want you to be my laughter when I want to cry
I want you to be my forever engraved in the sky
I want you to be my shining sliver wings
I want you to be my everything

Bridge:
I can see us walking hand in hand
I can see you being my woman and me your man
I can feel something growing stronger each day
I just want to love you in every single way
Come on baby, I know you feel the same

CHORUS


My books are available here.

That’s the way the addiction grumbles
That’s the way the drunk stumbles
That’s the way the moon serenades
That’s the way the elephants walk in the parade
That’s the way the politicians talk
That’s the way the predators gawk

That’s the way the innocent dream
That’s the way the raped scream
That’s the way the fears surrender
That’s the way the cold remembers
That’s the way the lost are found
That’s the way the veterans weep to the sounds

That’s the way the truth should be told
That’s the way the lies are bitten and sold
That’s the way the victim cries
That’s the way the quiet feel inside
That’s the way the impregnator stares
That’s the way the son of a bitch cares

That’s the way the glass is poured
That’s the way the children are ignored
That’s the way the perception is skewed
That’s the way the label is crude
That’s the way the society thinks
That’s the way the one percent drink

That’s the way the air becomes stale
That’s the way the skin becomes pale
That’s the way the poets write
That’s the way the day turns into night
That’s the way the heart breaks into bits
That’s the way the last puzzle piece fits

That’s the way the thunder growls
That’s the way the thieves prowl
That’s the way the light disappear
That’s the way the dark becomes crystal clear
That’s the way the luck falls
That’s the way the anger crawls

That’s the way the perpetrators finger points
That’s the way the hippies smoke a joint
That’s the way the teacher dresses
That’s the way the students make messes
That’s the way the winners gloat
That’s the way the captain steers the boats

That’s the way the rich treat the poor
That’s the way the small companies closes its doors
That’s the way the snake rattles
That’s the way the beast fights in battle
That’s the way the cookie crumbles
That’s the way the insider fumbles

That’s the way the performers act
That’s the way the sky becomes black
That’s the way the song is heard
That’s the way the villains see the words
That’s the way the view turns into stone
That’s the way the virtuous become alone

That’s the way the branch breaks
That’s the way the dealers make mistakes
That’s the way the world divides
That’s the way the humans collide
That’s the way the people see
That’s the way the universe will be


My books are available here.

(1st Verse)
I’m an exhausted lover on the inside
A part of me just needs a friend
I need something that I can truly feel
There is a part of me that can no longer pretend
I need someone that can care and not just take
I need someone that can’t be fake

CHORUS:
I’m tired of building shit on quicksand
I’m tired of treading water, can you reach out your hand
I’m tired of falling and hitting face first into the ground
I’m tired of screaming on the inside where no one can hear a sound
And you know who you are
Just like me, I’m crying within these invisible scars

(2nd Verse)
I’m a broken man who needs some understanding
A part of me needs someone like myself
I need something that I know is real
There is a part of me that can admit needs some help
I need someone that can care and can give
I need someone that knows how to live

CHORUS

And I can hear those words loud and clear
And I know deep inside you have the same fears
And you know who you are
And I can feel the doubt and danger
And I know we are distant strangers
And you know who you are
And I’m writing verses with you in my head
And I’m like you, lonely in this bed
And you know who you are

CHORUS


My books are available here.

I didn’t advertise this and I should have when I released this book, the majority of poems are personal. This collection was written over a long period of time. Through out my life I’ve used writing poetry as an outlet because I had no one to turn to. My mother passed away at a young age, 48, due to health issues. I grew up watching her being sick but take it like a champion. She was one of the first people to have had a liver transplant. Due to medicine, the medicine at the present time killed her kidneys. Because of this, I struggle with intimacy in many ways. My father was an alcoholic and in my twenties I married one. In my thirties I had outgrown my ex wife and wanted more in life as she digressed. She made the choice to say she didn’t have a problem when she did. Long story short, she killed herself after our divorce and left her daughter behind. I can admit I was not a perfect husband, I did some things I shouldn’t have done.

I went back to school to improve myself while trying to work. During that time, I met the woman I eventually married – a strong but vibrant woman. I fell in love with her ocean blue eyes and her gentle spirit. She works in the medical field to save lives and commend her for that. I now have a four year old son that looks up to me and strive to be a better person.

I want my writing to serve several purposes. I want people to look inward and identity their own destructive patterns that prevent them from any form of growth. Perhaps if you can recognize them, you can see them in others. I think most answers that we seek are within ourselves. We do need help from time time, but essentially it starts with being honest with yourself. But we struggle to look at ourselves because it’s hard.

Although I’ve started out writing from a personal place, I trained myself to write from different perspectives by observing humanity. I’ve also learned to write just for fun, for me, and to challenge myself to approach the writing process from a technical stand point.

I often use humor and sometimes am inappropriate at times because I don’t want people to know the real me because the real fear is that they will leave me. Making and maintaining friendships is a challenge. I don’t have any male friends that I do things with and to some degree I am ok with it for various reasons. I go by the motto “a pen and a piece of paper won’t leave me like people.”

I am a work in progress like everyone else.
Today was the day I felt the need to share my a part of my story.


My books are available here.