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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

My books are available here.

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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

I couldn’t make her remove her beloved wings

My books are available here.

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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”

My books are available here.

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Between the Verses and the Ink Vol. 1

Selected poems from each of Braeden Michaels’ first five books of poetry:

“The Raven’s Poison” – a full collection characterizing and describing all aspects of the human condition and emotions.

“Stella Walker’s Acquaintances” – character poetry surrounding the friends and acquaintances of a widowed woman as she reflects upon her life.

“Unpaved Crossroads” – poetry which depicts various scenes and moments in time, with a common theme of specific place throughout.

“Growl from the Sun” – a collection of political poetry including Michaels’ magnum opus of the same name, opining governmental and civic current events.

“For You, Love Always” – heart-touching and emotionally moving poetry for lovers.

My books are available here.

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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

My books are available here.

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Grab a copy!

“The journey of self discovery is never ending.”

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.

My books are available here.

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Neurotic Romantic (Mia Alcott)

Would you be my savior between the echoes and my morning screams? Would you paint the daffodils in my lucid dreams? Would you erase the smirk from my face? Would you ever remove the melancholy from my darkest place? Would you ever silence me and rip the rhymes from my tongue? Would you gather all the pieces from my heart and mold them back to one?

Will you be my joy and sorrow dripping from my eyes? Will you be my forever and never say goodbye? Will you make promises that you won’t break? Will you learn from the blisters and the comforting mistakes?
Will you hold me until the midnight cracks? Will you always have your tenderness send shivers down my back? Will you be my thunder and lightning that my pupils adore? Will you be the one to beside me forevermore? Will you be my waterfall when the wind loses all control? Will you fall in love with my weaknesses and the fragrance of my soul?

Could you be the one to calm my rattled nerves? Could you be the one to hold me when our road curves? Could you be the one to have all the answers to my endless questions? Could you be the song with a sweet hidden message? Could you be the one that makes me smile and laugh in the afternoon rain? Could you be my constant when everyone decides to change? Could you be the one that sets my heart on fire? Could you be the one to fulfill all of my desires? Could you be the one that feels my heart beat? Could you be the one that makes my life complete?

My books are available here.

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Joined in Holy Matrimony (Coleman Kerr)

I married a mannequin who sleeps in expensive clothes. I married someone who has been convicted of aggravated silence. I married a vegetarian who salivates when I eat meat. I married someone who sleeps during the day and is a scavenger at night. I married an owl with haunting and debilitating eyesight.
I married a rainmaker who is infatuated with the clouds in the hollow sky. I married a wallflower who strolls in a pastel garden. I married a boxer who punches with their sarcasm. I married a contextualist who takes everything out of context. I married a war who seeks out a battle. I married a liar who impersonates being a lawyer.

I married a cheater who is terrified to gamble. I married a bloodhound who laughs at fear. I married a stop sign who runs through a red light. I married a drifter who is clingy. I married a myth who tells long winded fairy tales. I married the dark who refuses to seek any light. I married a nightmare who is afraid to dream. I married a stigma who can’t see anything positive. I married a character who is fictional. I married an impressionist who never made a desirable impression. I married a run on sentence in a poorly constructed paragraph. I married a doubter who believes in Jesus Christ. I married a critical spirit with a vacant soul. I married a peasant who spends money like they’re worth a million.

I married a question mark who believes they have all the answers. I married a language who struggles to communicate. I married a cup of toxicity with a pinch of selfishness. I married a witch that can’t cast any spells. I married someone that is directionally challenged but carries a compass in her pocket. I married a confession who is often speechless. I married a lover who is incapable of giving love. I married a bricklayer that loves to build walls. I married a theory who doesn’t comprehend science and facts. I married a killer who didn’t understand what it meant to live. I married a corpse who didn’t understand what it meant to be alive.

My books are available on Amazon.

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Northwind Voice

I can’t recognize scattered pieces in my overwhelming puzzle
I can’t recognize the fragments that I let go
and the ones I grip onto
“And I hear the voice in the wind deliver me a message
I have less answers but I’m always full of never ending questions”
I can’t recognize the fears that seize me and the ones I destroyed
“And I hear the voice in the wind deliver me a song,
everything that was once here is now gone”
I can’t recognize the shadows that follow me and the ones I left behind
I can’t recognize the wisdom in my hands and the mistakes on my shoulders
“And I hear the voice in the wind tell me it’s heard me cry,
But there’s something magical and wonderful inside”
I can’t recognize the distinction between my emptiness and hunger
I can’t recognize the difference between laughter in the rain and the tears of the storm
“And I hear the voice in the wind scream don’t give up, you are amazing, extraordinary, you are full of abundant love”

My books are available on Amazon.

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Wildflower and a Whisper

For you, I was your wildflower and a whisper
I was drowning in your crimson flames
Letters from my jagged and jaded soul burnt
Free falling, lost your touch in the summer rain
I was sleeping in your elastic and lucid dream
a snowflake evaporating on your sleek tongue
I was just a temporary fascination and wonder
For you, I was your wildflower and a whisper
I was descending in your artificial paradise
Letters written from my heartbroken tears
Slipping, invisible to your smooth-spoken ego
I was growing dimmer in your nebulous eyes
a blanket you never wanted to feel and cradle
I was too invincible and priceless for you to hold

My books are available on Amazon.

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I am a connoisseur of analogies and a lost paragraph. The expectations are nonexistent and the inconsistencies are bloodletting. I’ve washed my hands in rain and rinse them in agony. I hate to stare in my complexion of mediocrity. I walk around with a fistful of aspirations and cough up restlessness. She keeps the awakening truth inside her shell. She ignores the knock on the door of confrontation.My knuckles are shaking. I spell out my fantasies in luscious ink as she pretends to read them.

I am the cerebral nighthawk that dances in the moonlight and dreams like a joker. I follow the road without a sign, just the sound of dragonflies, and the heartbreaking temptations.She’s made claims that I have acquaintances and sidekicks. She’s joined in holy matrimony with a introverted cynic who’s dying on the inside as the second hand moves. She holds in her frustrations and the fears stuck to her palms. I play with riddles and hide between the ten feet conundrums. I play with her subconscious and the ghosts that appear in her sleep. The end is just the beginning and the beginning is just a part of the end.

My books are available here.

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I was born between a California dream and a fog in the suburbs. I’m twenty percent scarecrow and the rest of me is a lion without a roar. I carry a pen and checkerboard notebook with fear parading in my alcoholic eyes. I have acquaintances that are on parole and a heart that is a victim of aggravated assault. Cassandra my dear, I’ve seen you take money from my camouflaged wallet. You plead insanity, is that what you want to call it? I juggle darkness and anxiety in my head. I fight battles I can’t see and shout at the gargoyles that laugh from the porch.

I fell in love with an embezzler who had a phrase “I don’t steal, I borrow” embroidered on her charcoal jacket. I once kissed an acrobat who tumbled away from my scars. I found myself glaring into an empty glass. I made love to a gypsy whose compassion and character couldn’t sit still. I was fond of a painter who sketched her tears on my chest. I found myself sipping on destruction. I was drawn to a lyricist who couldn’t convey her affection without a melody. I was magnetized to a whistle stopper who refused to stare into the truth. I found myself weeping in the dark gazing at the bottle.

I sat in therapy reliving my enigmatic past. He asked me in his continuous monotone voice “What do you write?” A part of me replied. “I write nonfiction because no one is listening.” He paused and provided his licensed smile.
“Can you please share your latest entry?”
“I thought I slept in a bed of catastrophe but I recognize that I’m the casualty in this foreign affair. I’m visiting a lackadaisical shrink who knows the answers to his longwinded list of satirical questions. I don’t want people to act like they care and he gets paid to show concern. I just have to move and stop sitting still.”

My books are available on Amazon.

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Coming Soon!

✨Release Date: 3/5/2024

Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed

Between shadows and memory, one woman’s diary elucidates relationships come and gone, those who helped shape who she is from the inside out. Turning the rain into something beautiful, the opening petals of a rose now blooming.

Veteran poet Braeden Michaels crafts his seventh collection of poetry into a mold of vision. Like pages from a twisted fairy tale, he narrates using his unique poetic style and perspective, first dissecting emotion before reconstructing and reimagining each one.

Pre order: Once Upon A Rain, She Bloomed

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⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Michaels doesn’t fail to deliver in The Raven’s Poison. From start to finish I was taking around the horn on an emotional rollercoaster and was left in awe of his words. Can’t wait to get the next book!”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Braeden knows how to tap into the human emotion and the sometimes dark nature of our innate characteristics. This is a book that is sure to grab you by the throat from the very first piece until the very last. You will be gasping and grasping for more until the very end.”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“I haven’t read a poetry book so full of great poetry in years. Everyone should pick this collection up.”

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

“I highly recommend this well written book. His writing is full of great imagery and it draws you in leaving you mesmerized.”

My books are available here.

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Coming Soon!

Between shadows and memory, one woman’s diary elucidates relationships come and gone, those who helped shape who she is from the inside out. Turning the rain into something beautiful, the opening petals of a rose now blooming.

Veteran poet Braeden Michaels crafts his seventh collection of poetry into a mold of vision. Like pages from a twisted fairy tale, he narrates using his unique poetic style and perspective, first dissecting emotion before reconstructing and reimagining each one.

My books are available here.

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She slumbers in jitters and uncertainty

She slumbers in quietness and nervousness

She slumbers in angst and needles

She slumbers in frozen butterflies

She slumbers in a catatonic atmosphere

And the all knowing and powerful listens

She slumbers in misguided beliefs

She slumbers in thin confidence

She slumbers in pale rose petals

She slumbers in the down pouring dismay

She slumbers in cold feet and horror

And the all knowing and powerful listens

She slumbers in cynical exasperation

She slumbers in headaches and irritations

She slumbers in deadweight

She slumbers in mishaps and misfortune

She slumbers in blame and agitation

And the all knowing and powerful guides

Check out my books!

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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

My books are available here.

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Once upon an unconditional love
love was woven in melodic souls
fears were embraced, tears were kissed
blessings were gifted and received
auras doused in immaculate authenticity
veracity is rooted, prosperity widened
depths are filled with nectar and joy
affection dipped in white hot sincerity
tenderness is etched and engraved
appreciation feels like a soft blanket
conversations filled with respect and zeal
A flame that is forever burning with bliss
spine-tingling devotion, astonishing wildfire
A magnificent universe filled with victories
overcoming obstacles and challenges
together, learning and growing hand in hand
A lifetime with a serene afterglow
beauty found in countless photographs

My books are available here.

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Bitter Honey

Bitter honey, the aftertaste is drowning
the affection once pure turns into ink
Disjointed and spots of spite stick to
my worn-down tongue, I dwell inside

I lost my existence but found my shadow
I lost my fears but found my perspective
I lost my pride but found my character

Even in the despair, the calm was burning

Bitter honey, the aftermath is devastating
the devotion once concrete crumbles
Frail and specks of turmoil rushes down
my frightened throat, I wallow inside

I lost my independence but found my direction
I lost my truth but discovered the lies
I lost my innocence but gained my wisdom

Even in the melancholy, the silence was light

Bitter honey, the afterthoughts are distant
the tenderness once snug is crippled
Cracked and traces of sorrow drip from my
serenading eyelashes, I cringe inside

I lost my thirst but found my hunger
I lost my laughter but found the jester within
I lost my ghosts but found my guardian

Even in the dashed hope, the fall was awakening

My books are available here.