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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.

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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.

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Especially when the October wind
With frosty fingers punishes my hair,
Caught by the crabbing sun I walk on fire
And cast a shadow crab upon the land,
By the sea’s side, hearing the noise of birds,
Hearing the raven cough in winter sticks,
My busy heart who shudders as she talks
Sheds the syllabic blood and drains her words.

Shut, too, in a tower of words, I mark
On the horizon walking like the trees
The wordy shapes of women, and the rows
Of the star-gestured children in the park.
Some let me make you of the vowelled beeches,
Some of the oaken voices, from the roots
Of many a thorny shire tell you notes,
Some let me make you of the water’s speeches.

Behind a post of ferns the wagging clock
Tells me the hour’s word, the neural meaning
Flies on the shafted disk, declaims the morning
And tells the windy weather in the cock.
Some let me make you of the meadow’s signs;
The signal grass that tells me all I know
Breaks with the wormy winter through the eye.
Some let me tell you of the raven’s sins.

Especially when the October wind
(Some let me make you of autumnal spells,
The spider-tongued, and the loud hill of Wales)
With fists of turnips punishes the land,
Some let me make of you the heartless words.
The heart is drained that, spelling in the scurry
Of chemic blood, warned of the coming fury.
By the sea’s side hear the dark-vowelled birds.

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A classic vantage

Perceptions gauzed in antiques

Edges of photographs crinkle

Rustic but euphoric

Art history in sight

Words written from thick blood

Deep appreciation of jazz

Grasping the top notch pen

Refined and elegant

Dressed in sophistication

Adoring her exquisite tongue

Artistic in the hurricane soul

Tasting the vintage ink

Check out my new book!

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Wider than a bulldozer

Enormous sight for hungry eyes

Long and gigantic

Bigger than her mouth

Generous and gigantic

A massive gesture curved

Grand and sizable

Staring at the abundance

Curious as a small kitten

Wondering in delight

Glaring at the immense

Extravagant and humongous

Gawking at the thickness

Fixated on the strength

A portion leaps to be inquisitive

Blushing inside and out

Intensity risen beyond its heights

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Roses of transparent moments collide

I do a moist conversation in the horizon of the orange sky

I am drenched in sweat craving your magical words

I am lost in the softness of your mind

I float on lips of resurrection, I hang in the golden wax of your lotus body

I hang and you hold me like the dripping twists and turns on fold of my skin,

I disappear on Cupid’s pavement searching for your fragile soul

I inhale your breathless scars

I have counted pain, I have sustained and coloured my pain

I sip your honey in the chalice of my tongue

I embrace your canvas like an artist

I have fallen for your words like a ballerina

Your words strike paradise and pour a lump of seasons.

A travesty, tapestry, Titanic.

I am in awe of your twinkling perception

I cradle your warmth and stitches

As I take birth and die in the symmetry of your curve.

I am in reborn absorbing your divine essence

My words – Italics

My Valiant Soul – Non Italics

Check out My Valiant Soul blog. She is a brilliant writer and it was a pleasure to collaborate with her.

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Hello All,

Today I have reached a milestone of acquiring a 1000 followers. I have stumbled across many great people, aspiring writers, and have enjoyed this journey.

I also want to thank those who have purchased my books. Thank you for all the support.

– Braeden Michaels

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Holly Rene Hunter is the “House of Heart” blog. When I do stop by and read her blog I am quite impressed. Holly does a great job creating beautiful imagery. She writes with elegance and it’s almost as if I’m reading a famous poet from the 1970’s. I am always impressed when I read her blog. I enjoy the choices of word and style. Some may not know this but she also has a book. I encourage for others to take the time to read it.

Please check out her blog if you have not.

I take the time to do this because it is very time consuming for a blogger to answer questions for an award that is offered to them. This is my way of appreciating them without doing a bunch of work.