Please excuse the comma splices, tense changes, verbosity, etc. I was just a youngin' and now I realize the error of my grammatical ways. Plus, I preferred the flowery and descriptive writing styles of the early 19th century and beyond rather than the short, journalistic post-Hemingway-style of writing. I love intense imagery and descriptions in general. Still deciding whether I should edit my old poetry for grammar mistakes or take the Beatnik approach and fuck it.

Disclaimer: I only wrote/write on bad days. Grand days have never inspired me enough to write as I've always used writing as an outlet. A majority of my poetry is angsty, dark humored, or depressing, however, I don't have depression, and I'm not self-destructive or suicidal by any means. My writing is mostly a tenfold representation of the kind of day I was having at the time. Embellishing the realities of my bad days on paper helped turn them into good days. Not sticking my head into an oven anytime soon (or ever, actually). :P +10 points if you got the reference.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to comment

Thursday, September 13, 2007


I canoe along the ocean-like lake,
Not a care in the world, not the sound of a motor.

My paddle, caressing the water with every stroke,
The canoe, walking on water, careful not to capsize,
Just my paddle and I, skimming the water.

Gazing upon the forest edge that meets the shore,
Noting the fire-burdened trees to our right,
Twigs and trunks, burnt and charred,
Victim to a decade of fires, vulnerable.

The forest, isolated and lacking inhabitants,
Centuries old, nearly forgotten,
Greets the world, "Hello", with its gift of oxygen,
No reply, no appreciation, no thanks.

The island just up ahead, holding a deserted house,
The crimson paint, chipped, the windows, broken,
The rocky shore of the island, barricades the house,
Years of memories, hidden behind its doors.

Remnants of its garage, hanging over the water below,
The foundation, crumbling and eroding away,
Days away from calling the rocky lake bottom "home",
The lake's castle, in its final resting place.

An old beat-up fishing boat, anchored at the house's dock,
The boat, natural, matching the landscape,
In its rightful home and place,
The ancient boat, swaying to and fro, in its own harbor.

Pondering creation's great accomplishments,
Reminiscing the beauty that surrounds me,
The serene setting, unknown to most,
Away from bustling cities and at peace.

I continue on my journey to nowhere, enjoying nature,
Bird calls surround me, the quiet splash of the water below,
The many throngs of mosquitoes, decorating the air above,
I make my way along the silent waves.

Home, sweet, home...

Copyright © 2007


My heart pierced with the thoughts of the past,
Will there ever be hope, for my heart is lost,
My eyes fear the the light, for I know it's bright,
This dagger, already so deep, I lack a strong grip.

My hears hear hate and sense its arrival,
I turn away and ignore reality, fake it,
My life turned abstract caused by fear,
The dagger, life on a string, heart weeps.

Reality bites, but I try to let go, escape,
I'm dreaming of a nightmare, so close, yet so far,
My thoughts are endless, my heart filled with regret,
This dagger, eternal, shows no sympathy.

Copyright © 2007


Throngs of horses, so wild, young and free,
The sound and feeling of their gallop
-no instrument can make,
Their sudden neigh, breaking the silence
-call of freedom.

Jet black and caramel coats,
Manes decorating their features,
One of the highlights of God's creations,
Tame creatures, gentle and humble.

Symbol for freedom, love, and hope,
Outstretched hand, comforting heart,
Their courage and bravery
-getting the best of us.

So wild, so young, so free...

Copyright © 2007

Monday, August 13, 2007

Fame and Heroes

Lohan and Hilton,
Misdemeanors, slap on the wrist,
Gaining fame by faults.

Everyday heroes,
Saving lives and loved ones,
Their stories forgotten.

Copyright © 2007


Actors - stage fright their demon,
Performance day, carrying their worries,
Show - Hit or miss, they will decide,
Their demise, revealed upon the final act.

News of talent scouts amidst the audience,
Their future, hanging by thread on opening night,
Ready for their performance, hurry to the stage,
Crossing fingers, the show is announced.

Curtain call.

Copyright © 2007

Tuesday, August 7, 2007


My life intertwined in a vine of hope,
Climbing to the top with no intentions,
What is expected is a mystery,
Anxious to reach the top of the vine.

Grapes all around as I try to reach my goal,
Laughing as I ascend to the top,
My confidence weakens as I approach the zenith,

The green grapes, sour with taste,
The eyes of jealousy soon await,
I reach the height of the vine,
My legs, grasped by the grapevine.

My body, carried into an inferno of grapes.

Hatred of fruit,
Vegans beware.

Copyright © 2007

Mind, Body, and Spirit

My mind, inhabited by thoughts of love,
Daring to escape in the form of passion,
My thoughts revealed to everyone around me,
Dexterity, what I need most.

My body, cloaked from the world,
Physique veiled from plain-eyed view,
Hiding behind a shaggy burlap sack,
Allure, what I lack.

My spirit, homely and encased in sorrow,
Happiness lacking, grotesquely fulfilled,
Walking on water, unapproachable dream,
Spontaneity, my better half.

Copyright © 2007

Sunday, May 6, 2007


Hands and feet shackled, shirtless backs whipped,
Unfortunate and unforgivable,
The world, losing all sense of humanity and moral,
The conclusion of Adam and Eve's demise.

Our fight for freedom has turned cold,
Our voice is left unheard,
Our eyes, open, but blind to morality,
God's message is heard, but are we listening?

Our hearts, the rocky, dark earth beneath our feet,
Our voices, fade with the voices of many,
Our eyes, blind from what's happening in our midst,
Our minds, controlled by the media's wishes.

Our wrong actions are shadowed by the works of others,
The human race, at stake, for our own wrongdoings,
Our acts, changing, will reverse morbid outcomes,
Standing together, we fight for freedom.

Copyright © 2007

Monday, April 9, 2007


Concealed aromas escape from bottle,
Essence of rose, departing spray.

Passion consumes,
In air exotic,
Propelled by love's romantic thought.

I, the wearer, masked behind perfume's power,
Entranced by scent.
Lust for the potion nestled on my body,
Those around me-controlled by mist.

The fragrance captivates its keeper,
I, the possessor, administer mist,
The elixir, a dangerous weapon,
My indulgence revealed.

My body, inhabited by sensuality,
The brew, the host upon my spirit.

With the last spray of its intoxicating fumes,
The marvel lingers.

Copyright © 2007

Thursday, April 5, 2007

The Sun

A luminous beacon of hope for the meek,
The light end of the tunnel, sinners seek,
The world’s clock strikes noon, burning shirtless backs,
Of unfortunate slaves carrying baskets and sacks.

War-hungry leaders seeking darkness, not light,
The world’s everlasting flame, forever burning bright,
Farmers cry out and pray for plentiful crops,
A loud silence of many, the world’s clock stops.

Amidst chaos and destruction, the beacon is lost,
The end of the Olympics, the world’s discus tossed,
Darkness falls upon the arrogant world below,
In revenge, the beacon, extinct, drops its halo.

The world stops turning, as the beacon expires,
Gloom falls upon bustling cities and great empires,
Silence and blindness, not a cry nor a tear,
Sooner than you think, Judgment Day draws near.

Copyright © 2007


Uncle Sam would sure have a laugh,
From Bush, to Washington, to William Taft,
A whole new world across the big “lake”,
Somebody help us all for Heaven’s sake!

From North to South to East to West,
Cape Cod to the Great Lakes to the Grand Canyon and the Key West,
Minnesotans strut their stuff in winter boots and coats,
In Florida they show off their sandals, while yachting in big boats.

From the Golden Gate Bridge in the West,
To the Brooklyn Bridge, claiming to be best,
The Great Lakes in Minnesota to fake lakes in Florida,
Claiming ponds to be lakes, oughta' sorta' bored ya'.

Copyright © 2007

The Weather Haiku Collection

Rain Drops

raindrops dive slowly
to the many umbrellas
far below the clouds


sunshine beams down low
to cities, parks, and beaches
many people hope


snow cascading from the sky
miraculous white
blanketing the land beneath


raging winds torment the coasts
placid winds near the main-lands


drops of sorrow descending
faster and faster
sun appears and joy ascends

Copyright © 2007


crystal blue open oceans
shared by the whole world
deep forgotten mysteries

Copyright © 2007

The Sense's Haiku Collection


Eyes view the whole world,
The world around us is viewed,
Even to the blind.


Ears hear everything,
The never-ending grapevine,
Even to the deaf.


Touching and holding,
The textures throughout the world,
Those closest to you.


Taste-test everything,
sweet, bitter, salty delights,
The Taste bud Dreamland.


Smell the sweet flowers,
Smell the not-so-pleasant trash,
Smells are everywhere.

Copyright © 2007

The Season's Haiku Collection


The onset of time,
Trees blossoming, birds singing,
Everywhere you go.


The sun gazes down,
Beach-goers are all around,
Swimming and playing.

Leaves of all colors,
Blow through the harsh, yet cold, wind,
Winter is nearing.


Snow falls from the sky,
Birds fly south and blizzards come,
Fireplaces burn.

Copyright © 2007


Someone is watching,
Somewhere they are concealed,
They are surely there.

Copyright © 2007

The Mysterious Miss Captain Juniper

The colossal sail and mast blowing to and fro,
“We must set sail before the season of snow”,
We all throw our hats up in congratulations,
"Sailors, sailors, man your stations."

Without a map and without a compass,
"Where is the gigantic ship headed, miss?",
"We are approaching the town of Aquarius",
"Where is Aquarius; aren’t we headed for Paris?".

"Paris is cold at this time of year",
"Aren't you interested in just visiting "here"?",
"Yes, Captain Juniper, but where is "here"?"
"You'll find out, within the next year.".

"What? The snow is soon drawing near",
"If we stay to long, ice cracking we'll hear",
"Oh, first mate Reynolds, stop making such a fuss",
"The worst that could happen... A whale the size of a bus".

So they sailed to what seemed like the ends of the Earth,
For the sailors, this voyage was meant to show her their worth,
For little did they know, their bravery was tested,
Captain Juniper was working, while the other crew rested.

This made her mad, so her powers were revealed,
She thought for a moment, and appeared an ice field,
"Captain, there's an ice field straight dead ahead",
"I know, Cooper, now go back to bed".

She was so obvious, yet her crew didn't have the slightest clue,
The ship cook came up to ask, "Would you like some Irish stew?",
"Not now, not now", Miss Captain Juniper replied,
"Miss Juniper, Miss Juniper, will you be my bride?".

So there it was, a wedding ceremony on a vessel,
The ship crew got back to work, while the honeymooners lay nestle,
But who asked Miss Captain Juniper's hand in marriage?
I can only tell you this; he owned a nice, white horse carriage.

But yet you're still wondering, who this mysterious ex-bachelor must be,
I can tell you this, it was where they met, under the plum tree,
They met in Aquarius, the land of the sea,
For them it was reality, but tis' fantasy for we.

For the land of Aquarius is fictional, dare I say,
The story, as fictional as Rumplestiltskin spinning gold from hay,
For Aquarius lies only in one’s dreams,
The only way to escape reality, it seems.

One can only travel there via dream,
Take heed to my warning, the travel to there is extreme,
The travel to Aquarius isn't for the weak of heart,
For the road there is depicted in your mind's fine art.

Alright, alright, you're making me feel flustered,
In order to answer your question, please give me ice custard,
Okay I'll tell you, I'll tell you it's true,
Her spouse is Crewmen Cooper, but the suspense must now ensue.

Copyright © 2007

The Meaning of Poetry

Poetry is a sandcastle, being washed away by the sea.

Poetry is a way to get out, for people just like me.

Poetry is silence, when no one will listen.

Poetry is sadness, when tears make eyes glisten.

Poetry is laughter, when you are in the mood.

Poetry is a weapon, when you get yourself in a feud.

Poetry is guidance, when you need to find the way.

Poetry is a voice, when you can't find something to say.

Poetry is anger, when you need to yell.


Copyright © 2007

The Green-Eyed Monster

To tell a lie is an unfortunate act,
For a lie is an evil, wrongdoing pact,
What goes around comes around in daily life,
Till the day you die by nature or by knife.

White lie or not every lie is wrong,
Even the littlest lie ends in a sad song,
Tis' lies that brought great empires down,
It forced some monarchs to give up their crown.

Whether peasant, warrior, king, or queen,
They all had to be sent to stocks on the village green,
Your greatest friend one day, could not be the next,
All because of a lie, your friendship be hexed.

Abstain from the dark art of lie-telling,
Tis' sat*n who ye' your soul be selling,
Take heed to my warning and forever tell the truth,
Set a good example for this generation's youth.

Copyright © 2007

The Climbing Vine

There was a vine that was colored red,

It was so tall it touched my head,

I climbed the vine that ran so high,

I was headed right towards the sky,

I climbed on a cloud that was shaped like a square,

The vine was 100 times longer than my hair,

Then the vine wrapped around my feet.

I felt the pitter-patter of people drumming a beat,

I felt like a drummer,

Beating their drum,

I beat the drum, Rum-a-tum-tum,

I was eager to enter the kingdom above.

In fact, I found a magical dove,

The dove was shaped like a hydroplane,

Then, I heard a choo-choo train,

It was headed toward a cloud as lout as thunder,

I thought the train wouldn't make it under!

I was right,

Or so I thought,

The train tied the cloud into a knot,

Then, with a great big boom,

The cloud burst, and I went zoom!

I slid down the vine, and started to fly,

As I bid farewell and descended from the sky,

Than I finally reached the ground,

But as I fell,

I didn't make a sound.

Then, I finally knew what's-up,

As my mother yelled "Get Up!"

Even though it didn't seem,

I knew that it was just a dream.

Copyright © 2007


Rain falling from the gray, cloud-ridden sky,
Clouds like smokestacks, billowing so high,
People below holding, firmly, umbrellas brief,
For some it brings freedom,
For most it brings grief.

Teardrops from angels, falling lightly,
People wishing for the sun, shining brightly,
Sadness, like a woman weeping,
Joyfulness, with happiness seeping.

Wonders of what the new day will bring,
Crows, foretelling bad luck, or bluebirds, joyful, sing,
Children, waiting for rain to cease,
Rainfall comes, bringing everlasting peace.

Copyright © 2007

Ode to Lake Superior

Waters ever-so serene with peaceful weather while waves stall,
Roaring and tyrant waves torment the lake after the season of fall,
Seagulls, turtles, and hawks roam the shores,
Ferocious armies of mosquitoes, one by one, escape from Heaven's doors.

A freshwater ocean painted on a painter's canvas,
Claiming lives of the innocent by hundreds, alas!
Its rocky bottom, which many ships call home,
Ship wreckage of centuries, hidden by sea foam.

Hills and forests with colossal tress line its shore,
Sea monsters, ghosts, and other Lake Superior lore,
Varieties of fish in schools of many,
Superior shines, like a brand new penny.

What are the secrets of Superior, you say?
Well, I could tell you, but I only have a day,
What has happened in past histories,
There will always be undiscovered mysteries.

Copyright © 2007

Middle School Mayhem

Middle school is such a bore,
Crowds of students rushing to the door,
Teachers scolding the innocent,
But ignoring the clearly incompetent,
Conductor-like teachers, shameful of their class,
Class is in session while students pass various gas.

Flirting, snagging, and butt-pinching too,
The lives of a middle schooler are long past due,
Dating, kissing, and hugging as well,
I'm sure this don't happen to the Farmer in the Dell,
Noisy classrooms and crazy teachers,
Students, teachers, principals, and auditorium preachers.

Cafeteria food crawling off your plate,
The cafeteria food, so much I hat*,
Talk of the warts, lice, and wake-up pimples,
Why are you staring at me with those huge dimples,
Everyone always in an unnecessary spat,
Always about this and that and "You ran over my cat!".

There goes the morning bell,
I'm goin' in, and wish me well!

Copyright © 2007


Behind a veil of invisibility, I wait.
Waiting for my long-lived fate.

Will I take off the veil, revealing my face?
Will he leave me, without a trace?

Will I wait, for his awaited return?
Or, shall his remembrance, in my heart burn?

Will my thoughts be imprinted in his mind?
Or, is it true love that I must wait to find?

Will this veil, finally be gone?
My name, still left un-drawn?

Will I survive without his love?
This warm love, in the form of a dove?

Is the show over, it's uncertain.
Now, it's time to close the curtain.

Invisibility, all around,
My heart, is still left unfound.

Copyright © 2007


Heaven is no longer a mystery.

Heaven is joy and happiness.

Heaven is emotions and feelings.

Heaven is family and friends.

Heaven is love and romance.

Heaven is everyday life.

Heaven is everywhere.

If you seek, you shall find!

Copyright © 2007