Sweet little darling
Sipping tea from her cup
Deep thoughts on her rocking chair
Nose stuck in a Dickinson book
Style in her fingertips
Turning page after page
Wrapped up in forever
Coddling lukewarm memories
Counting grandchildren and lost ones
Guided by an inward candle
Unforgettable and refreshing

I read this book in paperback. This is a unsolicited review.

What I Loved:
Braeden Michaels is another one of my favorite poets. He is a master at creating imagery with his varied and vivid lines. Somehow he combines these images to create a scene and that scene, if we allow it, gives us a view deeper into our own humanity.

He writes with such depth and his lines make you really think about who we are as humans and our place in this world, our emotions, and our different perspectives. I find that I can read nearly every piece over and over, each time walking away with more meaning than the time before.

I also appreciate his creativity and his titles are dynamite. Things like “Coughing Up a Smirk”, “Psychobabble”, “Tangled Snowflake”, “Marmalade Boots”, and “The Blush Vertebrae”… how does he come up with these names??

I didn’t find a single grammatical error or misspelling and that made me very happy (because if you know me at all, it is that those are pet-peeves of mine). Also, the paperback quality was very good. A nice size in your hand, great overall length, and the front cover art for me was great.

What I Didn’t:
I honestly have nothing negative to say about this book. It now happily sits on my shelf to be read again and again.

My Overall Score:
5 stars – This book is exactly what I want from a book of poetry. Excellent length, quality writing, professional and engaging cover. Worth every penny and minute invested.

Highly recommended for those who enjoy unique modern poetry that makes you think and feel.

Check out where “The Raven’s Poison” is available! The review can be found on Amazon.

A part of me is mangled
A part of me is incarcerated
A part of me has no meaning

A part of me is ruptured
A part of me is poisonous
A part of me has fragments

A part of me is dismembered
A part of me is misrepresented
A part of me has a disease

A part of me is severed
A part of me is slivered
A part of me has lived in a smog

A part of me is a siren
A part of me is annilihated
A part of me has lost color

A part of me is ruptured
A part of me is an invisible soul
A part of me has died on Mangled Iron Lane

Under her breath she uttered “Life is as beautiful as a forehead kiss”
Joy dances like a ballerina on her spellbinding tongue
She squeezed tea parties with her doll Delilah with her artistry
Quietly adoring her childhood books on the shelf from the tallest to the shortest
She painted love with the ocean with her steady hand on her prized canvas
Gazing at her innocent imagination
Memorized the pattern and pastel colors of her quilt
In a whisper she mumbled “Beauty is inside, not in the eye of the beholder”
Climbing inside her mellow perception
She glided across the beige carpet with an ornament of a smile
A sphere filled with crayons, lite bright, easy bake oven, and ballroom dresses
Cherishing the extraordinary recollection,
Embracing the collage of photographs in her heart
Drops fall to the floor as she glances at a hollow room on Wildfire Lane

I woke up next to a vulture with a
dog bone chain around her neck
Staring at me with vile
I woke up next to a flame that wrapped
her sins around my waist
Staring at me with corruption
I woke up next to a blood sucking leach
that smirked with a lush appetite
Staring at me with disdain
I woke up next to a villain made up
of clay hiding the weapons
Staring at me with a plan
I woke up next to a furious soul
that was shaken from discomfort
Staring at me with delight
I woke up next to a bitten snake
that slithers through the camouflage
Staring at me with vengeance

Photographs stir inside
Grasping a birthday wish
Thirst and hunger subside
Frustrations built like a wall

Slowly, yet with sated ease,
Allowing you to enter,
You break the walls of slicing past
And pull me from my centre

Staring at what I should have done
Gravitating to a brand new me
No longer sipping on cravings
Voices stretch out to you

Allowing words to touch my sense
It may have left me long ago…
And in the midst of innocence
I tremble as new wings grow

Sweet fascination spreads
Leaping for your finger tips
Throwing away could haves
October skies open up

I let the rain pour over me
Cleanse my doubts and cure my mind,
Cast out shadows of bruised yesterdays
Tiptoe through days I’m yet to find

Reborn and teary eyed
Appreciation drenched in our song
Fallen and tattered
Still seeing and clenching on to you

My voice cries notes of you and I,
You heal my wounds, I will not die
In storms I hold you, beat your heart
A molten canvas, whispered art.


Braeden – Non Italics

Fiery – Italics

Check out Fiery’s blog if you haven’t! This was really fun and enjoyed collaborating with her!