Posts

by on

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

My books are available here.

by on

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.

by on

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.

by on

(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.

by on

(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.

by on

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.

by on

The Couch

Every time you sit here,
feels like you have gained some weight
I can see you eat at the dinner table
Do you really need the second hot dog
on that paper plate?
It would be one thing if you only sat here
for an hour or two
But you sit here for like four or five
Don’t you have other things to do?
I notice you watch reruns and see that
same episode three or four times
You eat cake, ice cream, chips,
Even I’m beginning to know the next line
I use to be more fluffy, vibrant, full of color,
plush, and the greatest item in the room
Let me remind you, it’s been a long time
since I’ve smelled another woman’s perfume
There are times I have to close my eyes
just some things I just don’t want to see
It’s childish, ridiculous, preposterous
to hear you yell at a sixty five inch TV
It doesn’t listen, respond, nor it does
it care your football team lost by three
For the love of God, just for once
Could you please think about me?

My books are available here.

by on

I took vows to be mistaken and unwanted
I took vows to be just a carcass
I took vows to feel the treacherous winds
I took vows to someone that is clueless
I took vows to someone that can’t read between the lines
I took vows to feel the written script
I took vows to someone that can’t hear my words
I took vows to talk to myself
I took vows to someone that just doesn’t listen
I took vows to someone that does the bare minimum
I took vows to be a shadow and a check book
I took vows when I was someone else
I took vows to be a trash can
I took vows to someone that refuses to evolve
I took vows to feel something because it was better than nothing

My books are available here.