Deep inside a serious social commentator I chronicle little nothings from something Residing in a seven hundred square foot apartment with spaghetti stains on Saudi Arabia colored carpet Exhausted from walking on egg shells and shrapnel from the one word responses “I planted seeds, give me what I need” She exclaimed with a riddle with her arms raised in the alabaster breeze Shrugging my shoulders in discomfort “You dealt me ripped cards, at Zero Point Boulevard” Squinted eyes, zig zig aggravation, and disgust is a ghastly taste I use to dance in your verses and your loose lipped stanzas Coincidentally there are no replies to my praise Dwell in your manipulation, circus mind and a diary written in mud Frankness stood upright and you ignored it No transitions in your language, just a hint of apricot Senselessness and ramblings squabble on this path Coping is your worst enemy
From the mind of Braeden Michaels, drink from this cup, the raven’s poison, a concoction of his collected poems all about the human condition. Imbibe in the rainbow of emotions found in the soul’s colors and taste the bitter aftertaste when you’re drenched in rage.
Indulge in the reasons beneath dripping lust before absorbing all the ways we experience our wide-ranging flavors of love and finish off with a sip of self-destruction. This is us. Humanity. All the layers stripped away and arranged for your pleasure.
No prescription for your malady No antidote for your cynical inflammation No injection for your discolored points of view No drug for your toxic disorder No capsule for your upended character No serum for your ill advised prejudice No elixir for your disgusted stance No dose for your insensitive notions No sedative for your piles of insecurities No remedy for your black and white beliefs
Lock your trite lips in the propaganda administration Enlighten the elastic genesis, raise your meandering eyebrow Impose sanctions, disregard the impositions The wreckage is caught in your esophagus
Tiptoe on Infinite Promenade Street Engage in this four year sentence Presidents don’t destroy America Americans dismantle the roads we built
Reciting vomit, enunciate the splattered fiction Nominate a two headed figurehead Surrounded by bigots, cockroaches, and the ministry of backbite Inflame the toxicity, lay in the genocidal rubble
Tiptoe on Infinite Promenade Street Engage in this four year sentence Presidents don’t destroy America Americans dismantle the roads we built
Discern the contaminated logic Walk through the fog of monstrosity Seek out page one fifty one of the aberration Italicize the phrase “The American Delusion” Sip on the symptoms of the patriotic zombies
Tiptoe on Infinite Promenade Street Engage in this four year sentence Presidents don’t destroy America Americans dismantle the roads we built
Dilute the bloodletting, reject the veracity Follow the path of the misguided narrative Turn up the volume on this impaired speech Clap your hands for the disturbing inauguration Wrap yourself in the collusion and friction
Tiptoe on Infinite Promenade Street Engage in this four year sentence Presidents don’t destroy America Americans dismantle the roads we built
I witnessed a revolution within my evolution Blending between the escape and noise Seeking a discrete language within my bones Torn into shrapnel and self diluting conflict
“Son, you can never walk away from the pain Don’t bother trying if your mindset is the same We all have to fall to see where we are It takes a lifetime to recognize what was easy and what was hard”
Thirty five years passing by, Staring at the same rooms with the same old eyes Points of view turned me into stone It’s not a secret that I’m walking alone
I’ve held a reputation to ignore the sensation A fusion of mediocrity and ignorance Hunting down a passage in a coma Frayed and twisted in my frozen mind
“Son, you can never change what was Don’t bother trying to walk off the buzz We all have to crawl before we can run It takes a lifetime to recognize what you’ve become”
Thirty five years passing by, Staring at the same rooms with the same old eyes Points of view turned me into stone It’s not a secret that I’m walking alone
“I opened my eyes to see the ugliness and beauty of humanity”
Braeden Michaels creates a curve in the poetic stratosphere revealing glimpses of the characters who walk amidst the life of newly-widowed Stella Walker. By exposing the flaws, scars, quirks, and the light we see in each other, this profound collection generates a fine line between friendships and acquaintances.
Within these pages, we are introduced to different shades of colorful characters in varying points of their lives. Every poem describes the hidden truths and realities of human attributes. Each perfectly imperfect person we meet is a representation of the people we run across in our individual journeys which then become stepping stones in our own growth.
I’ve been chasing a sky of blurry lines I’ve been chasing constellations with my eyes closed I’ve been chasing misplaced trust with heartfelt lies I’ve been chasing danger with silent explosives I’ve been chasing peace with a vicious expression I’ve been chasing filled pages in an empty book
If these decorated walls could shout crumbled words would cut my open arms If these rooms could plead guilty my disease would cry indifference And my inflicted patterns dwell on Silence Boulevard
On my knees with my hands clenched together Reciting scripture and broken prayers Begging “Take my pain away, tired of all the shadows of yesterday”
I’ve been chasing delusions with a vacant jar of pills I’ve been chasing wisdom with limited experiences I’ve been chasing a river of echoes with a pierced eardrum I’ve been chasing a fantasy with numb fingertips I’ve been chasing daylight on a dim path
If these decorated walls could shout crumbled words would cut my open arms If these rooms could plead guilty my disease would cry indifference And my inflicted patterns dwell on Silence Boulevard
On my knees with my hands clenched together Reciting scripture and broken prayers Begging “Take my pain away, tired of all the shadows of yesterday”
I’ve been chasing riddles with a cracked compass I’ve been chasing affection with a crippled identity I’ve been chasing sentiments with a star dripping resentment I’ve been chasing sweetness with a bitter tongue I’ve been chasing suspicion with an arrow in my hand I’ve been chasing time with drops of heartache
If these decorated walls could shout crumbled words would cut my open arms If these rooms could plead guilty my disease would cry indifference And my inflicted patterns dwell on Silence Boulevard
On my knees with my hands clenched together Reciting scripture and broken prayers Begging “Take my pain away, tired of all the shadows of yesterday”
Love was just an insignificant occupant making me gag Love was just a bad joke I heard in another language I couldn’t comprehend Love was just a citizen that held me down and raped my soul with a jagged knife Love was just a stench I couldn’t wash out Love was just a word created by Hallmark Love was just four letters thrown together to serve a ridiculous purpose Love was just a shadow so I can feel myself Love was just a bruise on my shin to prove I exist Love was just a song written by a billion dollar jester Love was just a death wish waiting in the wings Love was just a plant I didn’t water Love was just a black eye with covered up lies Love was just a watercolor I can’t see Love was just mascara running down my face Love was just a cloud of obscurity Love was just a gram and a kilo of voids Love was just a room of emptiness Love was just a shattered mirror I look at every day Love was just a pile of poems that made sense one day Love was a just a pile of poems that I threw away the next day Love was just an adolescent that claimed to know it all Love was just an adult with an addiction that didn’t know a damn thing Love was just a bomb that exploded on planes, in buildings, and in schools Love was just a clan, cult, gang, a war of losses Love was just a book that millions don’t read Love was just a doctrine of stolen beliefs Love was just a pile of divorce papers Love was just a trigger pulled by one finger as the other four were staring at him Love was just an overused word Love was just ten minutes of causal sex Love was just an irrational scream Love was just the sun not seeing the moon Love was just a down payment for an item I haven’t touched Love was just a puzzle piece that doesn’t seem to fit anywhere
