I coughed up a tangled fairy tale A translucent liquid composed of quicksand and psychedelic castles in the air Dismay biting a breeze of reverberation Lust was an unforgivable bottle of poison Trapped between sincerity and admiration
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
Caught up in the endearing glances Unspoken words, intoxicating voice Inviting and lost in a whirlwind Confusing thoughts, mixed signals Unhinged cravings, lava sensation
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
A wicked charm alluring Sweat pouring, rhythmic tongue “Magic not seeing what was tragic” Insatiable endless night dancing Clawing and reaching for tenderness
For you and the wind that wraps me up in clouds of dust, I surrender For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender
Forgive me, if I need too much Forgive me, if I desire too much
I am the color black wrapped up in a midnight curse torture dripping down my bleached face gripping on to the endangered lies whispers growling in my prejudice ears sorrow was a door to throw away my beliefs clutching on to the skeleton chain tomorrow weeps from my skewed perception, stumbling in the waterfalls, praying to blurry shadows and the sinister moon, I sip on the poison of a poor man’s cup and I hide in the mist to make me blind Lord, save me from the lake of screams
I am the color black severed from the spinning rainbow buzzards flying around my dying tree decaying stains, fumbling in the dark crawling toward the vibrations of the stigma haunted by my twitching nerves anxiety and insecurities boiling on the inside grief jumbled, agony waltzing carrying heartbreak over my shoulders I quietly stare into the atoms of my distress molecules sizzling, bloodstream crying depths of discomfort, circling headaches and I seek grace with a pitchfork and knives Lord, save me from the lake of screams
I am the color black ripped from the sobbing vermillion sky distinctively malevolent, serene and ill tarnished and frozen, inside the frostbite slightly obscene, smothered in vile a predator within, carrying a tarantula grin vertigo parading, obscurity blending corrosion running down my esophagus A diabolical mind dipped in scarlet oil walking with a criminal like scent cemetery gray with a pinch of graveyard dirt a night crawler climbing in your memory spellbinding oblivion, twisted secrets Lord, save me from the lake of screams
I am the color black unhinged and sadistic salivating from the burns, scatterbrained, splash of schizophrenia, thousand microscopic splinters in my cornea I’m a child of the fifth obsidian scarecrow untouched apricot skin, labeled as a dead end, hunger promenading, brisk spasms lightning smacks across my crimson back fractured, friction is my lifeless mother I live in a atmosphere of short breaths and gasping for oxygen among my bothers consistently sucker punched and jabbed with crude remarks, self esteem is hollow Lord, save me from the lake of screams
I am the color black characterized as the lustrous sin specks of halcyon, spots of carmine symbolizing annihilation and wreckage disfiguring truth, a heinous sparkle I strut with apocalyptic and corrupt nerves veins filled with cynicism and suspicion doubt trickling, hyperboles drooling nonstop fiction rolling off my slanderous lips sugarcoated fabrication stewing I’ve shaped my ruthless tombstone Viciousness is my fathers favorite drink I’ve learned to slurp vengeance Lord, save me from the lake of screams
I am the color black stamped as a disastrous villain I smirk at tragedy and illuminate within magic, identified as a slithering savage I slap hope with a monstrous hand distinguished as liquid monstrosity I despise faith and lurch in your nightmares venom is like loose change in my pockets I’ve exchanged bitten conversations with corpses in my slaughterous backyard quietly, I am the joker who plays with satire and explosive irony, kiss the rage on my cheek, I am the gift you are afraid to open Lord, save me from the lake of screams
For you and the truth, I lay awake circling my vulnerability I can taste the poison on my tongue I dwell in my pond of insecurities I gnaw at my unspoken and sedated soul I claw at my resilience with my tired fingers I pick at my invisible wounds with an axe I watch the apprehension hang over my head I whisper to my demons “listen to the crack”
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I find myself misplaced and disoriented I spot the conditions and uncontrollable urges I removed the hindering spotlight I am haunted by my effervescent carnival I have waved goodbye to the magnetic carousel I steer toward the corridor of isolation I clutch on to the paradise dancing in your eyes I am sinking in the malevolent circus
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I am weeping on the inside in this masquerade I am praying I will find edges of my identity I leave my pieces behind reaching for you I grip on to tomorrow and replay yesterdays I cough up the suffocating air and sorrow I choke on my frustrations and crooked thunder I see the lightning in my affliction I recognize the heartache that flickers within
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
I am a connoisseur of analogies and a lost paragraph. The expectations are nonexistent and the inconsistencies are bloodletting. I’ve washed my hands in rain and rinse them in agony. I hate to stare in my complexion of mediocrity. I walk around with a fistful of aspirations and cough up restlessness. She keeps the awakening truth inside her shell. She ignores the knock on the door of confrontation.My knuckles are shaking. I spell out my fantasies in luscious ink as she pretends to read them.
I am the cerebral nighthawk that dances in the moonlight and dreams like a joker. I follow the road without a sign, just the sound of dragonflies, and the heartbreaking temptations.She’s made claims that I have acquaintances and sidekicks. She’s joined in holy matrimony with a introverted cynic who’s dying on the inside as the second hand moves. She holds in her frustrations and the fears stuck to her palms. I play with riddles and hide between the ten feet conundrums. I play with her subconscious and the ghosts that appear in her sleep. The end is just the beginning and the beginning is just a part of the end.
Between the ivory blank page and the tangle among the frozen words I grunted frustrations and dabbed my fingers in the reverberating clouds Love was written for daydreamers I vigorously plucked the petals from the fortune teller’s teary eyed rose Agony and torment stretched out along my hypersensitive spine Tenderness was shattered into fragments glaring at the distinguished pieces Astonished from the inward discovery never seeking the grace within Clarity crept in under a cherry tree
Seven O’clock drifts vaudeville inauguration, tranquil introduction A breeze of pleasantries and greetings center stage, sponge like audience mixed congregation sipping on souls connecting with unbiased strangers nervously releasing free verse on a axis “I placed a chunk of the run down moon deep in my threadbare pocket no longer glistening or luminous cemented in a tuberculosis celestial sphere over a twelve thousand acre of soil filled with sulking predators, non stopping vixens, and smirking baby-kissers With a plethora of fear I packed my cobalt suitcase and changed my landscape Arrived in a view with miracles and lilies dancing around a bonfire with a beam glaring at her sunset daydreams head over heels, star striking overture forgotten piece of the crescent tumbling for love forevermore” sewn chapter left my lips with a joyful taste
She murmured sardonic puns, three line riddles and a secret written by her morning phantom She was sipping on Coca Cola with percolating eyelashes carrying a catatonic grin I sighed “your diabolical scent is quite ravishing and eloquent”
I didn’t mean to ignite the past I didn’t mean to love you with the left eye I didn’t mean to fall so hard with a faithless romantic
She gargled bits of authenticity, lucid theories, and swallowed a vitamin of intensity She often spills her aggression, animosity, and uneven morals in her bloodhound diary I cringed “your radiant light is piercing through the thick of the night”
I didn’t mean to surrender to your heart of stone I didn’t mean to adore your nightmares I didn’t mean to wipe away the rain in the storms
She has a mystifying language drenched in symbolism and an accent with a pinch of kindness She miscalculated and misplaced the affection I gasped “your insidious magic feels like gold, makes me wonder why your story hasn’t been told”
I didn’t mean to say those words I didn’t mean to remove your veil I didn’t mean to make you so afraid
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.
Grappling with a toxic incubus Static tangled up in hallucinations A diabolical perpetrator is lurking Dabbling with molecules and carbons And I sleep with annihilation
Memorizing the periodic table of elements Sinister mind combining mercury and lead A splash of chromium, pinch of caesium Blending a explosion in a wicked bottle And I sleep with obliteration
Ensuring a plague like disease spreads wide A blackhearted voice speaks with a chuckle Corrupted hands, apocalyptic intentions Selfishness wrapping around throats And I sleep with termination
Belligerent critters stalking the lands Referencing the last chapter of the divine Symbolic torture rest within the dollars Greed softens up the lips and tongue And I sleep with eradication
A clash of reasons, brawl between sins Fears sobbing until the break of dawn Scent of misery swarmed the dirt End of virtues, end of light And I sleep with a contagious virus
I’ve been cauterized by my figment of my bleary imagination I’ve overlooked the obscurity dripping in the marrow of my bones I’m reminded of my thin sensibilities drifting in a whirl my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the encouragement Thank you for the warmth Thank you for walking with me in the dark Thank you for the light you gave your grandson
I’ve been sobbing at the gravesite with a four leaf clover clenched in my hand I’ve heard the growl within the pieces of my shattered heart I’ve stared into the loss and the pins sticking in my sensitive nerves my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the joy Thank you for the unconditional love Thank you for your never ending presence Thank you for the smile you gave your grandson
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.
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’m glaring at a absent generation minds glued to screens, tabloids, Improving technology to do less exercising depreciating value at a ridiculous and outrageous rate waving at the growl of the sunrise four to six times a year, if that operating like a business losing funds I’m gawking at the disappearing fundamentals, the backbone of humanity digress, blaming the collapse of civilization, pointing fingers at plastic leadership, ignorance tattooed from head to toe, wearing air pods to only hear the agendas cloaked in madness environmentalists shaking their heads
“listening” was just a nomadic word fumbling around like a homeless man sipping on vodka from his rustic flask And the billions can feel the blisters on their lackadaisical and passive feet from the furious sun that hides behind sinister clouds, rattle me off that diabolical speech with spite beaming in your eyes I can see our enemies juggling bullets and nuclear warfare with a legislative grin where the truth is hidden, lies are contagious speaking from both sides of the mouth camouflaging motives and authenticity
I have witnessed the formation of the surface world order, removing shovels, eyebrows not raised, accepting mediocrity I am surrounded by mosquitos, snakebites, takers, and a symphony playing in the background of reality where the screams are silent and the violence is obscene I walk throughout the forest to seek peace but only to discover the fall of humanity “Borrow, borrow, borrow, we will pay the high interest tomorrow, and forevermore” the economy fluctuates, bargains with salesmen, trades with allies, shakes hands with the murderers, and the sun boils like it’s sitting on a hot stove at 6:30pm in suburbia waiting for a mother of three to throw in a pound of rigatoni’s to cook, run down and tired from the six hours of restless sleep working two jobs, patiently hanging for her ex husband to knock on her sanguine door to hand her a a child support check that will most likely bounce
And the children develop atrocious habits, slightly dysfunctional, erratic behavior, struggling in school, and the therapy bill shows up three months past due And she can’t pay that, saving nickels and dimes to take her joker like ex back to court And the cycle of justice, lack of law spins like a carousel without any pauses education slowly slipping out the pyramid degrees acquired through sixty five inch tv’s while paperback books became archaic illiteracy, comprehension, critical thinking, tossed into a body bag and thrown into the bloodhound River by hundred thousand dollar jesters playing as puppet masters dictating, removing “history”, deciding on relevance, worth and silver dollar merit Suits and paisley ties, accountants, who fixate on numbers lack the ability to “understand” people, individuals, and civilians And the sun cringes at the decision makers, narcissists behind a desk, keep drinking the Devil’s urine, believe in your hypocrisy your bed is on the bottom floor breathing in his arrogance and his cryptic verbiage
I’ve glanced at the complexity of relationships but see the shade of nuances in simplicity break down the triangle into savoring sections remove the minutia, erase the routine create mouthwatering memories, frame the watercolors of kisses and fragments of the beloved tears, surrender to the emotions light up humanity with a endearing greeting extract the labels of humans, classify and only subjects, things, and objects not individuals advertise nothing, be who you are, be the magnet, collect the pieces that make you whole, ignore the punchlines, block out the negativity, embrace the smiles, make new beginnings and say goodbye to the nerve crashing endings, celebrate life, the seconds, move forward, don’t sit still, rely on your instincts, love your shadow, and never stop dreaming, be who you want to be, grow from the sunshine
I steer clear from the plexiglass propaganda, narrow minded narrative and the acidic agenda I chuckle and smirk at the raised clenched fist In my peripheral vision, I can see the dancing tricksters, articulate magicians, and the monotone zombies pacing on the streets I am a stained bystander, observing the division, but put the universe under a microscope and visually see Gods hand holding the earth with tears falling from his cheek, I can hear him whisper a few words, but the only clear word I grasp is “rapture” I can see tragedies thrown into junkyards due to corporations believing anything and everyone is expendable and has a price And the sun turns it’s head, no longer in front of the vast kingdom we speak about And the sun disappears like a unspoken ghost hibernating from the turbulent storms
I scoffed at the down dressed pan handler that quietly entered his Mercedes Benz between Delusive Avenue and Excrement Road I wasn’t startled to hear the egos of pin stripped suits brag about what they owned I drive by the boarded up apartments that have been empty for a decade but filled with rats and carry a stench for endless miles I scan the faded newspaper of the landlord who lives in a palace who is liable for the boxed up belittled residence, slightly haunted and eerie I recognize empty fields, hollow playgrounds, clear parks, and trees that don’t hear a word leaves blowing away, hushed and dampened, melancholy drips into the creeks, fear deepen ideologies hit a threshold, spirituality is a fog serenity is crawling, chaos and havoc strut hand in hand, cynicism is filling the air, humanity generating the poisonous pollution
She disguises herself with prescriptions and 1970 cliches. More often she sleeps in black leaves and clenches to the whispers of the blizzard. She prays to the secondhand lions and searches for forgotten riddles. She laughs at horror films and weeps at the comedy classics. She’s never used the word forgiven.
She wrestles with the fears in the morning and drowns in the insomnia at night. She speaks in a language without discretion. She plays with her skeletons in the closet. She ignores the left side of her imagination. She dances to jazz and dips her fingers into white pages to write enigmatic poetry.
She expresses affection with amber kisses and her fingertips. She said goodbye to her fireflies. She built walls with quicksand and tears. She stares at her right side of her imagination. She pleads with the stone truth. She’s witnessed more endings than beginnings.
She circles her anger like a hawk. She’s deprived of human decency. She loves with a small percent of her tattered heart. The rest is locked in a music box surrounded by caution tape. She sings to her frustrations to soothe the madness. She’s in love with only parts of her identity.
Invincible Verses 