I’ve been cauterized by my figment of my bleary imagination I’ve overlooked the obscurity dripping in the marrow of my bones I’m reminded of my thin sensibilities drifting in a whirl my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the encouragement Thank you for the warmth Thank you for walking with me in the dark Thank you for the light you gave your grandson
I’ve been sobbing at the gravesite with a four leaf clover clenched in my hand I’ve heard the growl within the pieces of my shattered heart I’ve stared into the loss and the pins sticking in my sensitive nerves my memories weep in the photograph of Black-Eyed Susans in the vase next to the grin of my brave mother
Thank you for the joy Thank you for the unconditional love Thank you for your never ending presence Thank you for the smile you gave your grandson
She disguises herself with prescriptions and 1970 cliches. More often she sleeps in black leaves and clenches to the whispers of the blizzard. She prays to the secondhand lions and searches for forgotten riddles. She laughs at horror films and weeps at the comedy classics. She’s never used the word forgiven.
She wrestles with the fears in the morning and drowns in the insomnia at night. She speaks in a language without discretion. She plays with her skeletons in the closet. She ignores the left side of her imagination. She dances to jazz and dips her fingers into white pages to write enigmatic poetry.
She expresses affection with amber kisses and her fingertips. She said goodbye to her fireflies. She built walls with quicksand and tears. She stares at her right side of her imagination. She pleads with the stone truth. She’s witnessed more endings than beginnings.
She circles her anger like a hawk. She’s deprived of human decency. She loves with a small percent of her tattered heart. The rest is locked in a music box surrounded by caution tape. She sings to her frustrations to soothe the madness. She’s in love with only parts of her identity.
For I am the gust in this brilliant joy For I am the hope in these disorientated chapters For I am the trembling suspicion in the corner For I am the optimism in your stained pupils
And the fascination pierces in the burgundy sky
For I am the prosperity in this shattered mirror For I am the wisdom you have never heard For I am the glare in the whispering blur For I am the salt in your four seasons
And the enchantment glows in the burgundy sky
For I am the zest in your shaky bridges For I am the rainbow in your weeping azure For I am the shine in your rusty screams For I am the fear in your gripping wishes
And the artistry blooms in the burgundy sky
For I am the peace in your self destruction For I am the grit in your sandcastle For I am the treasure you haven’t touched For I am the daydream in your hallucinations
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.
I took vows to be mistaken and unwanted I took vows to be just a carcass I took vows to feel the treacherous winds I took vows to someone that is clueless I took vows to someone that can’t read between the lines I took vows to feel the written script I took vows to someone that can’t hear my words I took vows to talk to myself I took vows to someone that just doesn’t listen I took vows to someone that does the bare minimum I took vows to be a shadow and a check book I took vows when I was someone else I took vows to be a trash can I took vows to someone that refuses to evolve I took vows to feel something because it was better than nothing
No, I couldn’t stand in your resonance and your mind numbing negligence No, I refused to be your noxious scapegoat and omission in your dangerous eyes No, I wouldn’t be a remainder in your lopsided mistake
“Hush hush, nothing will save you” Yes, I thought I was rescued from my haunting past Yes, I thought this residence was permanently carved
No, I dismissed the fatal request but still felt the jagged nail in my back No, I denied you satisfaction and drifted in an awkward disposition No, I fell in your discrimination and felt blackballed from the very second
“Hush hush, nothing will save you” Yes, I thought I was found until I realized the pieces were scattered Yes, I thought this residence was secure and guarded
No, I destroyed the walls you built with your reckless hands No, I stumbled into your humiliation with anxiety stuck to my skin No, I cried until my rage leaked from my mouth
“Hush hush, nothing will save you” Yes, I thought I discovered love in a colorless dream Yes, I thought I found peace when in reality all I heard were silent screams
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’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
I drank rain from a malevolent cup
and I couldn’t touch the terror in the wind
I distinctly felt the extinction in the air
and the intruders inside me left fingerprints
I anticipated the rumblings, jitters, and
the despair to rest in my esophagus
I stood in the fog seven miles away from
the shadows and the vile from the hill
I swallowed ignorance with a blend of
dismay, concern and suspicion
I fell before the behemoth’s sins and
I stared at the tarnished wisdom
I inhaled the scent of darkness
and I could feel the breeze of agony
I witnessed my logic, quirks, and talking
Skeleton disappear into the clouds
I was consumed by crisis oriented faith,
misplaced psychology, and charades
I stared at the dementia with my lip
quivering and with the aftertaste of sorrow
I stood six feet apart from the quicksand
and the rattle swimming in the sea of chaos
I severed the gospel from my identity
and I muttered words of inadequacy
I stepped on the carousel of deception
and shrugged off human decency
I became one with the vile from the hill
and detested the color of my pupils
I was obsessed by the anxiety and the
venom in my stomach turned into stone
I was crushed by my weaknesses
and the stench of loneliness dispersed
I devoured the indecisions, complexity,
and the tears in my eyes evaporated
I despised the grave of my haunting past
and ignored the road to the sunrise
Storm of Ink 