Exchanging histories, undiscovered blessing She was born with silent violet butterflies dancing in her “catch my breathe” eyes A surreal connection, depth with curves She walks with simplicity dripping from her mysterious and irresistible lips
And she sings with heartache and strength And she sings with brilliant magic And she sings with white hot conviction And her inner beauty is a magnificent star
I walk through the forest listening to her enchanted voice I walk through the forest following her footprints
Kindhearted edges, carrying wreckage She carries invincible wings over her worn out and distressed shoulders crystals floating in her periwinkle soul She lights up in the dark like a firefly armed with blistering faith
And she sings with heartache and strength And she sings with brilliant magic And she sings with white hot conviction And her inner beauty is a magnificent star
I walk through the forest concentrating on her enchanted voice I walk through the forest guided by her dazzling spirit
Forget me not, my sweet fears I found untouchable verses within my discomfort I found veracity within the crevices of the dark I found my reflection staring into my tattoo of courage I found emptiness deeper than this bottle
And my tears dry up and it’s time to stand up And my anxiety carries a heart beat And my passion bleeds forever more And my endless ink soars like a blackbird
“Take my hand, I can no longer do this alone. I can admit, I can no longer do this on my own”
Forget me not, my sweet fears I found my imagination spinning out of control I found my recklessness ripping me at the seams I found my identity buried in a grave with a bouquet of havoc on top I found my revelations reading scripture
And my tears dry up and it’s time to stand up And my anxiety carries a heart beat And my passion bleeds forever more And my endless ink soars like a blackbird
“Take my hand, I can no longer keep hurting myself, I can admit, something inside needs some help”
On Monday, the garbage men didn’t arrive and the sun hid behind the unbiased clouds, the jalopy on Crescent Road sang a piercing tune, the widow across the street glared at old photographs and the newspaper was thrown into an oak tree, and the mime laughed until she cried
On Tuesday, the wallpaper pleaded guilty for bad taste and the cinnamon rolls were hard as hockey pucks, the taxi drivers were riding unicycles, and the truth cracked the widescreen TV’s, the preacher’s sermon was written by an atheist and the raven sipped on the concoction just like humanity has for generations
On Wednesday, there was no lumber at the construction site and the henchmen counted their bullets, the playgrounds are now empty malls, California morphs into an exotic island,the register is as desolate with dust, and the politicians are suffering from withdrawal of greed, the drug pushers reside in mansions, and the moneyless become the majority
On Thursday, prejudices and pregnancy rise ten percent, paradigms dissolve and systems fail, symbolism becomes a lost diamond necklace that no one wears, ignorance is a bag of sugar that millions consume, education is no longer a pillar but now a pile of rocks, authenticity is rare and mindsets are stuck in a ten by ten box
On Friday, fools prance on the sidewalk and allegations disperse, heathens scoff and judge, Christianity wears a band aid that you can’t see and God is playing a violin for non believers, no one drinks the water they paid for and the porn that is free rest in their palms, the backward society is quiet and the questions are camouflaged in the answers
On Saturday, plagiarism is on sale and sarcasm is a $10.99 subscription, adultery is on the side, and sincerity was removed from the menu, I can pick up a prescription for a lack of integrity and sell a bottle of lies, the catatonic grin is plastered on every mannequin and the rain washes away the stench of civilization for a split second
On Sunday, the fears turn into rubble and the conscious of mankind fades like ink on paper, the echoes of society feel like a non stop siren, the static in the air tarnishes souls, the earth is decimated by dollar signs and all that is hidden, and the agendas are carved into invisible laws, and the cycle continues without stripping the labels
She will care for thirty seconds and write a novella of accusations She will pine for your sensitive hands and cry a stream of tears from a distance She will crave hours of chit chat and stare at grim skeletons in silence She will dance and twirl in the garden and be embarrassed of her defects in loneliness
“In my view, I was raped by his alluring vocabulary, molested by his wit and probed by his twinkling generosity. He turned me into a walking paradox.”
And the mystery within her dwells And the inconsistency smears her delusions And the absurdity fills her weary lungs And the enigma is like condensation And the anomaly marches within her mind
She will walk with poise and diligence and shout with obscenities doused in wildfire She will cherish the remains and residue and toss her pieces she loathes in the garbage She will wrap herself up in sanitized anxiety and chuck courage up against the wall She will run with convictions in her fist and ignore the principles that define her
And the secrecy within her is desolate And the conundrum drips frustration And the perplexity drains her focus And the complications steer her vision And the rattle stumbles within her mind
“In my perspective, I was poisoned by his compliments, fondled by his intellect and abused by his sincere confidence. He turned me into a walking paradox.”
Dandelion skin, your consequences hang from your eyelashes your backbone has an invisible crack your tenacity wallows in the closet your cheeks are filled with solitude your apprehension feels like a heart beat
Grace from within witness’s a glimpse
“I can’t hear what you are saying, I’m too busy fading”
Dandelion skin, your affliction surrounds you like a cloud your sheath carries an uneven stigma your serenity is deep in your lungs your perseverance sleeps with obscurity your illusion is smeared and splattered
Grace from within is numb and worn
“I can’t run from the silence any longer, I can finally see parts of me that are stronger”
Dandelion skin, your uncertainty plays hide and seek your strain trips over your kindness your sway crumbles in your defeated fingers your delusions disappear in the fog your trance whispers in the shade
Grace from within has the answers
“In this garden, I will blossom and continue to grow, the grace from within will finally show”
She’s exhausted from spilling ink She’s uncertain with her fingertips She’s wobbly and shaking on the inside She’s powerless from the past She’s flimsy as a thin piece of paper Sing me a song for wide hope Sing me a song for stretched out faith
She’s frail within her bones She’s isolated from the rattle She’s licking her wounds quietly She’s aching for companionship She’s comfortless and abandoned Sing me a song for freedom Sing me a song without chains
She’s tangled up in desolation She’s withdrawn and torn down She’s a tragedy without a witness She’s reclusive and friendless She’s a sky without any clouds Sing me a song for change Sing me a song for healing
That’s the way the addiction grumbles That’s the way the drunk stumbles That’s the way the moon serenades That’s the way the elephants walk in the parade That’s the way the politicians talk That’s the way the predators gawk
That’s the way the innocent dream That’s the way the raped scream That’s the way the fears surrender That’s the way the cold remembers That’s the way the lost are found That’s the way the veterans weep to the sounds
That’s the way the truth should be told That’s the way the lies are bitten and sold That’s the way the victim cries That’s the way the quiet feel inside That’s the way the impregnator stares That’s the way the son of a bitch cares
That’s the way the glass is poured That’s the way the children are ignored That’s the way the perception is skewed That’s the way the label is crude That’s the way the society thinks That’s the way the one percent drink
That’s the way the air becomes stale That’s the way the skin becomes pale That’s the way the poets write That’s the way the day turns into night That’s the way the heart breaks into bits That’s the way the last puzzle piece fits
That’s the way the thunder growls That’s the way the thieves prowl That’s the way the light disappear That’s the way the dark becomes crystal clear That’s the way the luck falls That’s the way the anger crawls
That’s the way the perpetrators finger points That’s the way the hippies smoke a joint That’s the way the teacher dresses That’s the way the students make messes That’s the way the winners gloat That’s the way the captain steers the boats
That’s the way the rich treat the poor That’s the way the small companies closes its doors That’s the way the snake rattles That’s the way the beast fights in battle That’s the way the cookie crumbles That’s the way the insider fumbles
That’s the way the performers act That’s the way the sky becomes black That’s the way the song is heard That’s the way the villains see the words That’s the way the view turns into stone That’s the way the virtuous become alone
That’s the way the branch breaks That’s the way the dealers make mistakes That’s the way the world divides That’s the way the humans collide That’s the way the people see That’s the way the universe will be
Captivated and infatuated by love’s delicate spirit, poet Braeden Michaels composes a collection as timeless as the dawn of time: from budding first glances to whispers of a heart broken yet mending to vows in forever to the exhilaration of a lover’s touch to joy in parenthood and the reverberation of desire. Here is love in all forms. New love. Learned love. Growing love. Surprising love. Love through the ages from a man for his woman. She is the compassion that forever sits still. She is the scent that lingers on his skin. She is the enchanted sea of grace. She is the sunflower’s breeze in his eyes.
With inflation, a blockbuster blast reeks carnage With inflation, we depreciate the minds of a exasperated society With inflation, a ruckus erupts and commotion explodes With inflation, economic indicators are ignored and bullies are savored With inflation, an empty suit lacks comprehension and consequences
And Tyler Boulevard will lose its character And Tyler Boulevard’s existence will turn cold
With inflation, pennies evaporate and the cost of living rises like a hot air balloon With inflation, the prosperous hibernate and the money laundering is glaring With inflation, the embassy’s schemes are outlined with chalk and paint With inflation, the fear monger salivates from a haunting distance With inflation, the downward spiral staggers and the nations posture weeps
And Tyler Boulevard will lose its integrity And Tyler Boulevard’s remains will shiver
With inflation, the Capitol Hill henchmen’s stench is pungent with greed With inflation, the arrangements and the intentions are to eradicate the foundation With inflation, the crowded distractions come from all angles of the compass With inflation, the animosity drips freedom with a blaze With inflation, civilization works with a handicap and walks spiritless
And Tyler Boulevard will lose its luster And Tyler Boulevard’s shadow will fade
With inflation, corruption is at its highest peek and the lows are dwelling in caskets With inflation, it’s number eighty nine in the radical bill to change the landscape With inflation, the intellectuals want us to be a copycat of Venezuela With inflation, the middle class will disappear in the snap of a democratic finger With inflation, the earth will sit on an axis as the sky will read its eulogy
And Tyler Boulevard will be crippled for generations And Tyler Boulevard’s demise begins with those who live on islands
She use to be my enraptured muse A mystical raindrop that drenched my entirety guided by purity, kindness and authenticity unveiling the sentiments in navy ink written in the coveted firethorn notebook
In the afterglow she disappeared Stillness was the enemy
She use to be the prayer between both hands A snowflake cleansing my weary tongue navigated by a sweet hummingbird whistling displaying the verses with a keen eye penned in a diary surrounded by flames
In the afterglow she vanished tranquility was the rival
She use to be my northward carnival A buzzing gypsy crooning in my orchestra maneuvered by truth, sympathy and light revealing the lines with unseen impressions authored in a journal of mysterious flare
In the afterglow she escaped serenity was her shadow boxer
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
Invigorating flare, divine storm Slipping into a harmonious dimension wrapped up in all of your inferno vicious kisses, candy like touches immersed in your tactile desires, my muse Taste the hunger of the blazing star
And the electricity ripped the champagne sheets And the sparks lit up in the tragic skies
A liquid sigh, voluptuous wildfire gliding into a psychedelic mist surrounded by your musical sirens delightful growls, exotic whispers sparkling in the moonlight, my muse craving the thirst of the blazing star
And the provocative motion burned And the ricochet sent shockwaves
whiplashed tension, pulsating snake spiraling into a smoldering spasm toes curling, spellbinding tongue breathtaking havoc accelerating oblivion touching nerve endings, my muse yearning the skin of the blazing star
And the enigma was quite exquisite And the mesmerizing fever glistens forever
I’ve watched you become the acrobatic apologist I’ve heard about the yellow fellow who broke your melodic heart I’ve recited the third page from your journal pertaining to your inadequacies For your wounds will heal in the garden I stand as your protector, silver shield, and the knight in the desert My love for you is a basket of gold I’ve witnessed the boy who cemented crippling demands I’ve stared at the smeared carmine lipstick on your oval mirror and that reads “The chip on my shoulder weighs a ton” I’ve scolded the gentleman who made claims of manhood For your discolorations will be cleansed I stand as your defender, eagle’s eye, and sword My love for you is fearless and is a scent of heaven I’ve growled at the heathens who replaced love with immaturity and lust Daphne, my beloved, your fantasies and dreams are sacred Your darkness can shine in our universe
I use to wear a serenading taxi cab colored sweatshirt with a patch of of birds heading south for the winter to Morgan’s house She’d always laugh at the caption below “Are we there yet?” and pour me a drink She paraded her fathers den that reeked of nicotine and late night affairs Flipping through the eclectic taste of albums Spinning the quarter in the afternoon air Indecisiveness roaming like a soldier Morgan was the advocate of passive aggressiveness Mumbling curse words and playing with a rubber band in tangled dialogues Morgan would often lean in and tap her fingers on my thigh as if she was playing the piano Slightly obtrusive and deliberately coy Consistently playing word games with my emotions Shouting “Love is fickle, but you could dance with me for a nickel” Often devilish wearing a copper halo Tossing idioms between stirred pauses Blatantly ignoring the officer in the pictures on the olive walls She referred to him as the man that dragged her from state to state Leaving her in decorated homes with meaningless jewelry Constantly toying with closeness and distance with my lips in the sanctuary Shaking my head from the autumn perfume From month to month my title changed from tool box to aberration On that fateful hour I made the doorbell sing and no one replied Glancing down at the welcome mat I picked up the ivory envelope Ramblings were engraved and cemented Paragraphs leaving a starry eyed melody Entranced by the last line that catapulted reality “The officer who claims to be my father hasn’t taught me how to say goodbye”
For you and the truth, I lay awake circling my vulnerability I can taste the poison on my tongue I dwell in my pond of insecurities I gnaw at my unspoken and sedated soul I claw at my resilience with my tired fingers I pick at my invisible wounds with an axe I watch the apprehension hang over my head I whisper to my demons “listen to the crack”
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I find myself misplaced and disoriented I spot the conditions and uncontrollable urges I removed the hindering spotlight I am haunted by my effervescent carnival I have waved goodbye to the magnetic carousel I steer toward the corridor of isolation I clutch on to the paradise dancing in your eyes I am sinking in the malevolent circus
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
For you and the truth, I am weeping on the inside in this masquerade I am praying I will find edges of my identity I leave my pieces behind reaching for you I grip on to tomorrow and replay yesterdays I cough up the suffocating air and sorrow I choke on my frustrations and crooked thunder I see the lightning in my affliction I recognize the heartache that flickers within
I am holding your hand with one eye open a gust of change feels like a storm I’m terrified to open up both eyes to see I don’t deserve you
Between the ivory blank page and the tangle among the frozen words I grunted frustrations and dabbed my fingers in the reverberating clouds Love was written for daydreamers I vigorously plucked the petals from the fortune teller’s teary eyed rose Agony and torment stretched out along my hypersensitive spine Tenderness was shattered into fragments glaring at the distinguished pieces Astonished from the inward discovery never seeking the grace within Clarity crept in under a cherry tree
Invincible Verses 