Robert Frost examines “The Road Not Taken”
I reach for the boulevards that will leave you breathless and your hands shaking
I gravitate to the discoveries, lost souls and serenity in the changing lanes
I am magnetized to those who pick up the pieces and leave the remains
I find light, truth, and spirituality between
the signs
I spill the ink on what humanity can not find
I find the dark, screams, and tears at the intersections
I savor the twinkling memories despite the disconnections
I embrace the scenery while driving extremely slow
Get on the off ramp, turn on Unpaved Crossroads

Every road tells a story

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(1st Verse)
I want you to be the rain in my Indian summer
I want you to be my queen of magic under the covers
I want you to be the sun on my darkest day
I want you to be my symphony on center stage
I want you to be my candlelight in the dark
I want you to be the butterflies circling around my heart

CHORUS
Come on baby,
I know you can feel it too
I can see my life with you
Come on baby,
I want to feel you in my arms
I want to wake up knowing you are my lucky charm

(2nd Verse)
I want you to be the light breeze in my storms
I want you to be my blanket to keep me warm
I want you to be my laughter when I want to cry
I want you to be my forever engraved in the sky
I want you to be my shining sliver wings
I want you to be my everything

Bridge:
I can see us walking hand in hand
I can see you being my woman and me your man
I can feel something growing stronger each day
I just want to love you in every single way
Come on baby, I know you feel the same

CHORUS


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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


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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.


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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


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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


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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


My books are available here.

Slithers like a charcoal sidewinder
French accent is a wicked aphrodisiac
Natural head turner, twinkling nighthawk
strutting her curves at the Foxglove Tavern
A logical spinning conversationalist
twirling liberal storyteller with satin lips
dogs with saliva disregard the translation
centered on the painted mask and surface
neglecting and overlooking her education
refusing to sift through her elegant layers
ignoring her quiet pulsating sensitivity
discounting her popular and beloved color
suits craving sin with childish innuendos
speaking bland three dollar pick up lines
meaningless chatter leading to nothing
outsmarting the tacky salesman pitch
self respect higher than a skyscraper
hidden goals remain underneath
patience lingering in her queen size bed
two hands on the steering wheel of self love