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.

I’m glaring at a absent generation
minds glued to screens, tabloids,
Improving technology to do less
exercising depreciating value
at a ridiculous and outrageous rate
waving at the growl of the sunrise
four to six times a year, if that
operating like a business losing funds
I’m gawking at the disappearing
fundamentals, the backbone of humanity
digress, blaming the collapse of
civilization, pointing fingers at plastic
leadership, ignorance tattooed from
head to toe, wearing air pods to only
hear the agendas cloaked in madness
environmentalists shaking their heads

“listening” was just a nomadic word
fumbling around like a homeless man
sipping on vodka from his rustic flask
And the billions can feel the blisters
on their lackadaisical and passive feet
from the furious sun that hides behind
sinister clouds, rattle me off that diabolical
speech with spite beaming in your eyes
I can see our enemies juggling bullets
and nuclear warfare with a legislative grin
where the truth is hidden, lies are contagious
speaking from both sides of the mouth
camouflaging motives and authenticity

I have witnessed the formation of the
surface world order, removing shovels,
eyebrows not raised, accepting mediocrity
I am surrounded by mosquitos, snakebites,
takers, and a symphony playing in the
background of reality where the screams
are silent and the violence is obscene
I walk throughout the forest to seek peace
but only to discover the fall of humanity
“Borrow, borrow, borrow, we will pay the
high interest tomorrow, and forevermore”
the economy fluctuates, bargains with salesmen, trades with allies, shakes hands
with the murderers, and the sun boils like it’s
sitting on a hot stove at 6:30pm in suburbia
waiting for a mother of three to throw in a pound of rigatoni’s to cook, run down and tired from the six hours of restless sleep working
two jobs, patiently hanging for her ex husband
to knock on her sanguine door to hand her a a child support check that will most likely bounce

And the children develop atrocious habits,
slightly dysfunctional, erratic behavior, struggling in school, and the therapy bill
shows up three months past due
And she can’t pay that, saving nickels and dimes to take her joker like ex back to court
And the cycle of justice, lack of law
spins like a carousel without any pauses
education slowly slipping out the pyramid
degrees acquired through sixty five inch tv’s
while paperback books became archaic
illiteracy, comprehension, critical thinking,
tossed into a body bag and thrown into
the bloodhound River by hundred thousand
dollar jesters playing as puppet masters
dictating, removing “history”, deciding
on relevance, worth and silver dollar merit
Suits and paisley ties, accountants, who fixate
on numbers lack the ability to “understand”
people, individuals, and civilians
And the sun cringes at the decision makers,
narcissists behind a desk, keep drinking the
Devil’s urine, believe in your hypocrisy
your bed is on the bottom floor breathing
in his arrogance and his cryptic verbiage

I’ve glanced at the complexity of relationships
but see the shade of nuances in simplicity
break down the triangle into savoring sections
remove the minutia, erase the routine
create mouthwatering memories, frame the
watercolors of kisses and fragments of
the beloved tears, surrender to the emotions
light up humanity with a endearing greeting
extract the labels of humans, classify and only
subjects, things, and objects not individuals
advertise nothing, be who you are, be the magnet, collect the pieces that make you whole, ignore the punchlines, block out the
negativity, embrace the smiles, make new beginnings and say goodbye to the nerve
crashing endings, celebrate life, the seconds,
move forward, don’t sit still, rely on your instincts, love your shadow, and never stop dreaming, be who you want to be, grow from the sunshine

I steer clear from the plexiglass propaganda,
narrow minded narrative and the acidic agenda
I chuckle and smirk at the raised clenched fist
In my peripheral vision, I can see the dancing tricksters, articulate magicians, and the monotone zombies pacing on the streets
I am a stained bystander, observing the division, but put the universe under a
microscope and visually see Gods hand
holding the earth with tears falling from his
cheek, I can hear him whisper a few words,
but the only clear word I grasp is “rapture”
I can see tragedies thrown into junkyards
due to corporations believing anything
and everyone is expendable and has a price
And the sun turns it’s head, no longer in front of the vast kingdom we speak about
And the sun disappears like a unspoken ghost
hibernating from the turbulent storms

I scoffed at the down dressed pan handler that quietly entered his Mercedes Benz between
Delusive Avenue and Excrement Road
I wasn’t startled to hear the egos of pin stripped suits brag about what they owned
I drive by the boarded up apartments that
have been empty for a decade but filled with rats and carry a stench for endless miles
I scan the faded newspaper of the landlord who lives in a palace who is liable for the boxed up
belittled residence, slightly haunted and eerie
I recognize empty fields, hollow playgrounds,
clear parks, and trees that don’t hear a word
leaves blowing away, hushed and dampened,
melancholy drips into the creeks, fear deepen
ideologies hit a threshold, spirituality is a fog
serenity is crawling, chaos and havoc strut
hand in hand, cynicism is filling the air,
humanity generating the poisonous pollution


My books are available here.

I’m scrawling, swept away from the discord,
pleading to the amber crescent, hanging in the
audacious sky, gazing at the mindless clones,
no dismay of what will become, aggravation
turns into stone, eyelashes curve into dust,
puddles of demise, a graphite cyclone revolving around the fall, a population relinquishing to the avalanche, I scowl to the prognosis, hindsight is rubble, my conjecture is not a conspiracy, veracity is underneath the facade, I refuse to swallow the debris, I trash the publications, I displace the buzzards, I ignore the indoctrination, I carry my drum, I am the feather that flies with placid eyes, I don’t place stamps on foreheads

To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons
To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow
To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun

To the helpless sun, the indifference is a path to nevermore, but show us your sparkle, we pine for your radiance, numbness is not your color, your rays are in mourning, the lechery is within the choice, the preference to wear blinders, floundering into traps, shuffling excuses, pardon the shallow, explanation with holes, to the sun you are not accountable

I’m scrawling, furiously with an ambiguous message, forgive the gratuitous cyborgs, deception and the distortion was carved, the falsehood was chiseled, sculpted by self centered dastards, mercenaries injecting conflict with psychological warfare, no intersections, a blue print of disjuncture, a frazzled atmosphere, frayed and stripped,
scoundrels running ramped, policies dipped
into indulgence, documents soaked in disarray,
I lean into the incoherent ramblings, methodical
studies forged, verbatim tampered with spots of evasion, defamation spreading like a sickness, I refuse to consume the prozac,
paragraphs bellow with a enriched voice

To the awaken moon, I give you a letter of a thousand reasons
To the awaken moon, I am fond of your glow
To the awaken moon, I send you a letter to pass on to the unconscious sun

To the forlorn and damaged sun, please shimmer where there is darkness, let the gleam fill in the crevices, please shine where pieces are lost, let the air rejoice in your magic,
please be the aspiration to the cosmos, you are the enlightened preservation, you are the marvelous treasure, without you there is no growth, to the sun – you are not accused for the increased vibrations of the earth


My books are available here.

I can foreshadow a society crumbling
from applied science, twisting theories contorted plasma, and friction analysis
thesis based on wealth and leaking myths
Pillars from a system situated in sand
a sinking infrastructure, vanishing unity
colorless pupils plagued with a manuscript
spineless leaders, particles of blunders piling up, giant omissions paralyzing the fabric,
Programmed illnesses with a pinch of
annihilation, nations weeping counterfeit
drops of sadness, gradually seeking
contemporary alliances, executive orders
bleeding extermination, outlined syndromes
with a hint of illusions, corruption in the palms of the establishment, enigmatic statistics
catapulted in a ocean of the deceased

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I saw a glimpse of paradise, toddlers playing with brilliance, wonder, and a light breeze serenading through the air as a teenager
drinking water from fire hydrants, in front
of provincial chateaus, clarity and modesty
was a thread, surrounded by a crooning sky
of beliefs and faith, conviction is just an
antique sitting in a clammy basement,
wrapped up in newspaper with headlines
of World War Two, buried in a crate labeled
“Precious and few”, where dreams shifted, echoed, and the revolution within was smoldering, freedom was sung by entrepreneurs, capitalists, and poetry was
a blue jay flying from tree to tree, love was
a drink we all consumed and sipped all through
the decorated nights, yet today the clowns
wear painted tears and smiles are weary

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I am madly in love with the metaphors from
Walt Whitman, sweetness waltzing through Dickinson’s verses, where landscapes feel the sunlight, rain drizzling on white picket fences,
I fell for the similes that left glitter on my fingertips, ballads that reverberate within the words, stanzas that capture charm, but in the present I read a direct message, thoughts thrown on paper within seconds, impressions not thought provoking, automation becomes a crutch, loneliness seeking attention, reality drifting like a hitchhiker, dwindling patience, crime rising like flames in death-wish fields, scarecrows parading cracked pavement,
insanity yells, neon lights flicker every three minutes, like an apocalypse, but keep your
view on the illuminating screen, sarcasm spasms, bellies filled with microwaved meals

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve browsed countless articles of chemicals
being dumped in soil, animated creeks, flowing rivers, deep cobalt seas, and wide oceans
sweep it under the Persian rug, deposit the funds, retract it, close the column, turn off the comments, ignore the facts, don’t read it, let your fog disregard the bedrock of our country,
Freedom is the eagle on our printed currency
“In God We Trust” wasn’t coined by non- believers, deceivers, and tinted lawmakers
In a heap of literature, liberty isn’t just a statue,
a symbolism of integrity, war and peace,
mother of monuments, breathtaking torch,
Goddess of our Declaration of Independence,
classic signature standing in Manhattan, New York, she is the sanctuary of our nation, yesterday can’t be expelled, removed or deleted, Can I erase your self-righteous past?

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve seen grownups stomp their feet,
throw child like tantrums over slim debates
with cursed words thrown like daggers
I’ve seen electronic devices used to record
heinous crimes, satirical protests, and
mind bending disturbances across the globe
videographers portraying innocence,
displaying evidence, defending irresponsibility
I’ve seen switchblades pulled out over
loose change and collected indifferences
I’ve seen incompetency to be irrelevant,
tenure a driving force, dynasties collapsing
I’ve seen bewilderment shine brighter
than quickness and keen observations
I’ve seen enlightenment and murky insight
wither in closets at a candlelit masquerade

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun

I’ve seen cemetery’s of soldiers that gave
you rights, freedom, and opportunities
I’ve seen flags placed over coffins, brothers
in arms subbing, veterans in wheelchairs,
struggling to tell a tale, medals of honor with insomnia, abolished slavery, rise of women’s rights, PTSD worn on every soldiers sleeve,
But keep your eyelids on the screens, watch “Grand Opening” signs become obsolete, do what you do best, do nothing, stand for nothing, mankind defusing, watch the word
“Entitled” become sewn on our flag, replacing
the fifty gold stars, watch Betsy Ross cringe,
stare into the tears of the sun, feel the winter for decades ahead, watch the selfish gloat,
glare at the chill, embrace the still of the frost,

And the nerves of the vicious are numb
mankind’s existence dwells in an experiment
And I can’t feel the rays of the crying sun


My books are available here.

I coughed up a tangled fairy tale
A translucent liquid composed of quicksand
and psychedelic castles in the air
Dismay biting a breeze of reverberation
Lust was an unforgivable bottle of poison
Trapped between sincerity and admiration

For you and the wind that wraps me up in
clouds of dust, I surrender
For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender
For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender

Forgive me, if I need too much
Forgive me, if I desire too much

Caught up in the endearing glances
Unspoken words, intoxicating voice
Inviting and lost in a whirlwind
Confusing thoughts, mixed signals
Unhinged cravings, lava sensation

For you and the wind that wraps me up in
clouds of dust, I surrender
For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender
For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender

Forgive me, if I need too much
Forgive me, if I desire too much

A wicked charm alluring
Sweat pouring, rhythmic tongue
“Magic not seeing what was tragic”
Insatiable endless night dancing
Clawing and reaching for tenderness

For you and the wind that wraps me up in
clouds of dust, I surrender
For you and the sensitivity that twinkles like a star, I surrender
For you and your sacred taste of sweet affection, I surrender

Forgive me, if I need too much
Forgive me, if I desire too much


My books are available here.

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.

Sweet Ophelia,
Out of morbid curiosity
Are your lingering shadows in disbelief
Bitter tongue bound and burned
The scent of your scars never learned

Sweet Ophelia,
Between your warmth and generosity
How can you be in love with me
Sadness is a hummingbird in my eyes
Broken down with armor in disguise

“She deserves more than I could ever give,
But she clenches on to me as long as we both shall live,
Neither of us know what we deserve,
With her by my side, I can see my worth”

Sweet Ophelia,
Inside this snowflake feel the monstrosity
Are you afraid I will be the one to leave
Fear is the calm wrapped around my bones
Whispering “you are my center and my home”

Sweet Ophelia,
Of all the treasures and the uncertainty
Faith is trusting in the power of what you can’t see
How can you love a man who doesn’t love himself
For I have forgiven the stars, nothing else

“She deserves more than I could ever give,
But she clenches on to me as long as we both shall live,
Neither of us know what we deserve,
With her by my side, I can see my worth”


My books are available here.

Furthermore Allium,
your disparaging statement leaves a query
your impatience is shrugged off like grime
your insensitivity shrieks with havoc
your inferior pupils widen when silent
your misfortunes whisper like a cyclone

Between our beloved seasons
the grandfather clock whistles our song
your weakness’s held us together
your love is what makes us strong

And the affection seeps in after the calm
And the admiration between our fingers
is everlasting

Furthermore Allium,
your anxiety shudders and thickens
your nitpicking feels like a porcupine
your criticism often is a delirious fog
your secluded wounds weep in the dark
your bricks in your wall feel like quicksand

Between our beloved seasons
the grandfather clock whistles our song
your weakness’s held us together
your love is what makes us strong

And the adoration wraps around the stillness
And the peace after the hurricane shimmers in our history


My books are available here.

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.


My books are available here.

I’ve seen the icicles hang in the burning silhouette
I’ve been reminded of the unspoken truth
caressing my frozen ghosts
I’ve crawled between the spider like despair and mesmerizing sunset

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions

I’ve tugged on my restlessness and uneven faith
I’ve been surrounded by strangers with
mind numbing tension
I’ve sought out simplicity but eroded into complexity

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions

I’ve drifted away from the sympathy and magnetized to the obscurity
I’ve stolen hidden glances in my sleep and dream of the awakening
I’ve ran from fears wrestling in the dark and disappear in the light

Let the explanations seep and bellow
Let the justifications trickle down my face
Let the interpretations subside in the dusk
Let the denial drip down my pale cheek
I plead with my contradictions


My books are available here.

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”

No prescription for your malady
No antidote for your cynical inflammation
No injection for your discolored points of view
No drug for your toxic disorder
No capsule for your upended character
No serum for your ill advised prejudice
No elixir for your disgusted stance
No dose for your insensitive notions
No sedative for your piles of insecurities
No remedy for your black and white beliefs

“I opened my eyes to see the ugliness and beauty of humanity”

Braeden Michaels creates a curve in the poetic stratosphere revealing glimpses of the characters who walk amidst the life of newly-widowed Stella Walker. By exposing the flaws, scars, quirks, and the light we see in each other, this profound collection generates a fine line between friendships and acquaintances.

Within these pages, we are introduced to different shades of colorful characters in varying points of their lives. Every poem describes the hidden truths and realities of human attributes. Each perfectly imperfect person we meet is a representation of the people we run across in our individual journeys which then become stepping stones in our own growth.


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Cast the alabaster referendum
Spike the juice, transfix the vanishing liquid
Zoom the screenshots, taste the lip gloss
Scratch the two percent surface
Know nothing, keep the pulse on the dial

Seek optimism with self entitlement
Wrap your vertebrae around your cell phone
Dye the color of mass destruction
No dissection, analysis, or an ounce of depth
Know nothing, keep the finger on emptiness

Follow your ill advised democratic leader
Spit into the Declaration of Independence
Wash your jittery hands at the masquerade
Give Kim Kardashian a peck on the cheek
Know nothing, spell the word legislation

Walk the line between capitalism and socialism
Speak from one corner of your grand mouth
Run for mayor, sleep with the dirty sweetness
Dollars have value, integrity depreciates
Know nothing, move to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Parade around foreign affairs and zig zag policies
Trade agendas with corporations, chop down family shops
Spread the cancer with your thumb on reality TV
Download useless apps, swim into the word “myself”
Know nothing, wear the crown as you veto knowledge

Lack a vigorous backbone, ignore loans
Salivate over the disappearing social security checks
Pitch your ballot for the plagiarized speech
Steal from the rich, sit on your lazy throne
Know nothing, commit crimes and plead ridiculousness

Separate, divide, and do what you do best “Label”
Stare into the trends, curse at the economy
Blame the universe, unleash expletives at your choices
Embrace the seconds, neglect the forthcoming
Know nothing, glaze over conclusions and regurgitate

Wear the pin stripe suit like a hit man
Blend in with the smoke of politicians
Laugh in your three thousand square foot home
Drink the bitter honey on your porch
Know nothing, emulate the millions and toss your skull to the curb on presidential parkway

She slips on theological rhetoric
She hides behind the voodoo stuck to her silent tongue
Wearing her vixen like dress
She acquired accolades and accommodations from the saliva of the burnt orange wolf
She spoke the language of love in riddles and teenage rhymes
Wearing her Madusa like pearls
She mishandled truth and washed down a liter of half bitten lies
She threw away fortunes and laughed at others misfortunes
Wearing her witchcraft perfume
She roared liked the bitch she was and ignored the crowd who carried her on a Persian rug
Wearing her battle ax over her shoulder