Antidotes tasting like black coffee A chalk outline of Patterson’s grumbles China dolls parade 13th street with residue on the corners of their mouths Adversaries hack up off colored jokes under a jagged and teary eyed sun whispering forgotten fairy tales “I can’t shine, I don’t have time, I’m lost and forgotten in these rhymes”
And the ghost of Patterson counts his secrets Smears his name at the gates for attention Picking the lock, shouting at the kingdom
Romantics playing hopscotch on cracked and overused sidewalks Protagonists and thieves banter in the smog at Jameson’s bar on Kingsman Cynics and skeptics erasing evidence of hope on belligerent walls Butterflies flying over restless Samaritan’s chained to oxidized dumpsters Walker struts with a nervous alibi
And the ghost of Patterson counts the bullets painting his name on the golden walls Crouched down, yelling at the kingdom
Walker stalks the neighbors, wrestles with friction, and turns into a killjoy Leaking out minor details and spilling of a lethal homicide filled with inquiries Butterflies swarm the garden, surrounding a sealed box Sounds of an ax break the venerable crate Intriguing signatures, bag of money, and a letter from Patterson to a world class criminal Conviction and Walker go hand in hand
And the ghost of Patterson sheds its feathers Staring up at a dot of light, Staring down at a dot of black, Cemented in a glass underworld
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
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’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
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.
Sweet Ophelia, Out of morbid curiosity Are your lingering shadows in disbelief Bitter tongue bound and burned The scent of your scars never learned
Sweet Ophelia, Between your warmth and generosity How can you be in love with me Sadness is a hummingbird in my eyes Broken down with armor in disguise
“She deserves more than I could ever give, But she clenches on to me as long as we both shall live, Neither of us know what we deserve, With her by my side, I can see my worth”
Sweet Ophelia, Inside this snowflake feel the monstrosity Are you afraid I will be the one to leave Fear is the calm wrapped around my bones Whispering “you are my center and my home”
Sweet Ophelia, Of all the treasures and the uncertainty Faith is trusting in the power of what you can’t see How can you love a man who doesn’t love himself For I have forgiven the stars, nothing else
“She deserves more than I could ever give, But she clenches on to me as long as we both shall live, Neither of us know what we deserve, With her by my side, I can see my worth”
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
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
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.
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?
Storm of Ink 