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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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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.

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Ceramic Villains

stomach acid
gorges the frame of the picture
ceramic villains
stand in the center of the image
credit card smiles
seek the light of the troubled road
wallets become empty
as they cling to the objects of the room

Love was just a word to deceive

camouflaged tears
reckon within the twitching of souls
charades is not
just a game
but the poison
they drank daily
They laid drunk
in the center of the bed
photographing plastic memories

Love was just a word that they wanted to believe

My books are available here.

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I applaud you for the tenacity you carry on your shoulders
I applaud you for the worth you see in your sensitive skin
I applaud you for the struggles you slowly shed
I applaud you for the fight you possess

Deep into the traces of your veins
lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger

I could fall for your grace on stage

I applaud you for the courage that’s woven on your heart
I applaud you for the compassion in your finger tips
I applaud you for your articulate and sharp tongue
I applaud you for the irresistible flame that burns within

Deep into the traces of your veins
lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger

I could fall for your backbone in the limelight

I applaud you for the drops of heartache you turned into strength
I applaud you for the affliction you endured and overcome
I applaud your for not staring into your past with sinister eyes
I applaud you for the intuition you carry like a candle

Deep into the traces of your veins
lies the sterling wings of a divine messenger

I could fall for your aurora without touching your skin

My books are available here.

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I was sparks of eccentricity and she wore a hat of gumption
I was a humming conundrum and she was a silver flask I barely sipped
Yet I was polarizing in her sapphire eyes
Something I will never understand
I was a battle scene from bloodshed and she was a vase of harmony
I was filled with indifference and she was full ofdrizzling kindness
Yet I was magnetic in her sapphire eyes
Something I will never comprehend
I was a cookie cutter of complexity and she was a polygon of wonder
I was a man of calculating conditions and she was overflowing with affection
Yet I was appealing in her sapphire eyes
Something I will never digest
I was a pinch of numb nerves and she was a calm sea of beauty
I was the king of carelessness and she was quite serene
Yet I was engaging in her sapphire eyes
Something I will never inhale

My books are available here.

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The dark side is gravitating
Scrambled thoughts of my reality
Playing with the toys in my closet
A world you could care less
Claiming to know me completely
You know what you want to know
My efforts to shed dead skin get unnoticed
I grin on the inside of these vandalized walls
We share a love that wears many disguises
that you refuse to see
You chose to see only a few layers of me
We display a miserable performance
Consistently staring into my silence
I can’t make you use your tongue
I will never be enough or give enough
You are as broken in pieces as me
You don’t know how to walk away
I dare you to walk away like the rest
The grin expects the unexpected
Can you spell the word depression
Waiting for God to take me away
You will understand me when I’m dead and gone
And give more of yourself to another man
The dark side is gravitating

My books are available here.

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I’m not worth a penny
You won’t see any shine on me
I’m only a dot on this earth
You won’t even notice I’m here
I’m not a decoration
You won’t see that I exist
I’m only made up of coal
You won’t even notice that I’m gone
I’m just a tragedy waiting to happen
You won’t even care that I spoke
I scream in silence
To recognize that I’m alone

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I started out a project about almost a year ago on “love poems” and within less fifteen poems I didn’t like the direction of what I was trying to accomplish. As a poet, I write more as a storyteller and sometimes forget why I started writing as a treen. Then it was an outlet and personal, something I needed. As I glanced at my project it didn’t take long for reality to slap me in the face. I am married to my inspiration. I see my light and the woman who said “yes” in a church. I’m hard on myself and consistently think I have to accomplish things to be something and someone. It became easy to continue this project once I made it more personal. Once complete, I handed my wife a copy and told her to flip to the dedication page. I’m not a perfect husband and willing to admit when I’m wrong. Every day that I wake up I know that I am blessed with more I could ever imagine. I am married to a woman with the strength of a lion, heart made of pure gold, and doesn’t have an ounce of selfishness. This collection has every shade of love! Grab a copy and swim in an ocean of poetry that awakens all of your senses.

My books are available here.

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Scarlet’s Sin

Once upon a secret breeze
thirst and hunger tasted like transgression
Unhinged rage sought out an odyssey
from a provocative voice

And I swim into the deep of the saliva

A voluptuous silhouette in the sky
playing with precarious flames
splash of kerosene, a fatal match
Entwined in intoxicating magic

And I swim into the deep of the cravings

Disoriented from a hazardous touch
A forgotten goodbye evaporated
Dumbfounded and flabbergasted
Sucked in from a beloved sin

And I swim into the deep of the desire

Glazed from the saturation
Distracted and preoccupied
Falling in a pitfall of a fascination
Sinking deeper into the scarlet

And I swim into the deep where I may drown

My books are available here.

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Here I am, I don’t have followers
I have sanguine blisters and
indecisions stirring in my reckless mind
I’ve stood in the corridor of my considerations
and wide eyed aspirations
I’ve been guided by intolerable vices, a stench of trivial knowledge and sarcasm
I have concoctions growing in my garden
I’ve borrowed money from my child like brother
to rent a house not far from the Porcupine River
We use to play like thieves, run like dogs,
and wrestle in the amber mud for hours
I live in a two bedroom apartment,
One block away from the Midtown bakery
On Sunday’s I can smell the Apple fritters
I’ve worked at the local grocery store since I was fifteen
“Lucky” isn’t a word in my vocabulary
I bite my fingernails as I ponder in front of my 1971 typewriter
From 9pm to 10pm I’m a rapid reader
I fell in love with Mark Twain and the storytellers from the innocent wild
Stuck on the lucid and elusive chapter ten
Captivated between the commas and engaging dialogue
I cough at the errors and sniffle at the page count of my thrill seeking novel
I stretch out my imagination like a rubber band
Manuscript growing like a an oak tree
Here I am, born an offbeat writer
The people who know me stand distant
Afraid to crawl inside the brain of characters
I left my day job at the age of forty two
Perspiration and diligence were on my side

My books are available here.

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Walking Paradox

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.”

My books are available here.

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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

My books are available here.

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For You, Love Always

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.

My books are available here.