The tower of Babel
was destined to fall
not because of the
wrath of God,
but the hatred

I keep seeing
them
out of shadows
they creep,
men in black robes.

We shoot for superiority.
The best of the idea,
the winning match and set
game for the domination.
I, with masculine energy,

Creating, condemning,
piercing my skin with a
rough sketch, tattoo ink
and a clueless reminder
found within every pore.

“You gotta let your poems sing, ma
the old poet said.
His red ball cap perched atop his
like a lonely old moment of youth,
covering a mind alive with creativ

I grew up staring starry-eyed at t
of healthier men walking out of do
head held high while I kept their
It wasn’t something to really envy
and a fine nights sleep. No family

There it is again,
that weird, translucent
awareness suddenly felt when
sitting directly opposite from som
in a small, non-intimate room.

She sat there
across the table from me
as music blared through
the night sky.
Heavy majestic clouds,

Here’s the bet.
What’s a blind?
Pass the pretzels bro.
I’ve never had this beer before.
Have these cards been shuffled?

This little book of rhyme
holds captive my heart.
No, my mind’s the real upstart.
Credit to my heart’s a crime.
Desperation took the real blow

In front of the eager class
stood the fool
who had been hand-picked
by the professor
to share

Do your work and remove yourself.
Don’t check the follower count.
You are a rock, immoveable in your
You are the river that breathes an
You are provider. And receiver.

Menacing clouds break thunder
with three snaps, and
the clock down the hall
strikes three chords
in the hallowed night.

I really wanted to die
underneath that heavenly blue sky,
and leave behind the tensions and
and float upwards and away from th
No longer called a buffoon,

I remember the tired streetlights
that emitted their hazy glow,
discoloring the grass in the park.
I remember the playful screams
of my fast rambunctious friends,

You used to walk around the park
and feel the air perched on your t
but now it is no more.
Once written in mosaic glass
is now just a shatter on the floor

The feeling came again.
Love or Lust?
Neither I hope,
I hate writing of love.
It invokes a powerlessness

You let them run free.
guided, sure, but still free
to make their mistakes and live li
You let them experience their pove
Let them earn success through dest

Rock 'n’ Roll kept me up nights
until the morning lights of the ne
became battered reminders of accos
that threw itself on my near-awake
Scrreeeeccchhhh! Long, Angry Yel

The language I live in
is a playground
of excessive expression.
Fitted to the guiles of love
and the rascal finishes

Inner burst of joy-
from a caffeine fix-
The modern day call to action.
I do not stand, I sit for miles
and transfixed on the

Stooping low to face the gentle wa
that drifted under my influence.
Heard these waters held sickness t
and a simple drink taught desponde
A hidden path felt through the unc

Lined up the gunmen
with sparkling garments, one by on
spelled doom for the poor prisoner
who gazed at the setting sun.
The pompous captain stood tall,

Remember when shots
were stolen,
foreign dreams left melted
in the chamber.
Left fulfilled

The rain wanted to fight me.
Pouring down to become pines and n
splashing upwards,
dropping down with mock-unison
into the now flooded sidewalk.

The stars above us
live gigantic lives,
and they allow us
a shimmering glimpse
in the eve of every night.

Stardust in the mind,
I contemplate in exact answers,
precise manners,
for the fulfillment of a question
that beckons forgiveness.

A long time ago
I wrote a poem for a girl
whose beauty and grace
was captivating, enthralling
but who was also

Seemingly inspirational,
apparitions
of the unconscious mind,
perhaps signals
of inherited and

If I could pray,
I would pray that you all
enjoy your lives.
Final, but not ultimate, enjoyment
of the self and restlessness.

It’s loud here.
Friday darkness,
with voices clamoring
over the clinking of
plates and utensils.

The rain was not refreshing.
we waited and waited
on those barren, thirsty
desert hills.
But no rain came.

I sat in a lowly lit room
in a harsh winter night,
fallen into a sense of despair
and feeling brutalized
by life.

My fingers tremble in the cold
as I stack the stones in a slanted
I’m accompanied by the hummingbird
who search for the mystery in gard
sprouting within the cracks of thi

Everything is a reaction
to everything.
This sentence is a reaction
to the last.
The periods at the end are all rea

At night, I wander out from my ba
Cloaked in darkness, shrouded in s
I unlock the old cellar door with
I keep hidden behind the wall.
I get back early enough to not let