Friday, February 28, 2014

Ego Death

Destroy your ego.
Burn your pride.
Resolution's what you'll find!

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Mama Bear

Hey Mama Bear
It’s your oldest cub
I am big strong now
But I'll always need your love

Hey Mama Bear
You raised this cub up well
Even if along the way
I sometimes tripped and fell

Hey Mama Bear
You protected me from poachers
You stood your ground in front of me
And dared them to get closer

Hey Mama Bear
I’ll always be your cub
And someday I'll take care of you
And pay you back your love

Hey Mama Bear
I owe it all to you
I'm alive and well today
Because of all you do

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Netflix Conflicts

Im sitting alone at my desk
Trying to study for tests
But Netflix appeared
And it soon became clear
That I will not be doing my best

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Red Bull: A Hell of a Drug

The raging bulls of red are stampeding through my mind
Kicking up the tired dust and forcing out the grime
They run without abandon, no they will not slow
So I must run with them telling them all where to go
As we travel on and on my back begins to sting
The raging bulls run faster as my back sprouts golden wings
I spread them out to their full span and feel my body rise
Then, like a golden eagle does, I start to surf the sky
The bulls of red grow smaller as I soar amongst the clouds
The world is my playground with adventures all around
I keep on flying higher and escape the atmosphere
The titan universe above me is so crystal clear
Every single star in every single galaxy
Dares me to go on but now the strength has left my wings
I start to fall head over heels screaming down to land
The ending to my odyssey looks not so very grand
Suddenly I snap awake my head all in a daze
I look down, to my surprise, I’m done with my essay

Monday, February 17, 2014


You are a man
That stands among men
Helping me learn
Again and again

Your example is good
Your actions are right
You are the reason
My future is bright

As I go make
A man of myself
I know who to look at
If I start to need help

You're a reflection
Of the man I could be
As long as I mirror it
A man's what I'll see

I want you to know
You have been the dad
I know that you wish
You could have had


Water's in the air
Swimming trunks
Or Levi jeans
I'm not sure what to wear

Thursday, February 13, 2014

The Evolution of Heartbreak

Emphasis Matters

I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.
I never said she stole your money.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Part 3: Lost in the Red Sand

All at once the paralyzing force that had overcome the man was released. He felt it rip out of his mind like a bullet. His mind seemed to decompress and snap back into his brain, cowering in the deepest recesses it could find. The man’s ears were filled with the red-eyed beast’s screams; nails on a chalk board mixed with a roaring lion. He saw the Hunters look first to their steeds and then up towards the cave. The man, back in control of himself, scurried away from the edge hopelessly attempting to avoid detection. It was useless. The man heard the Hunters shout along with the sound of them scaling the red rock face to his cave. He was trapped. 
Unclipping his folding blade from his belt, the man opened it up, locked it in place, and stood up. He stood in a combat stance; feet shoulder width apart, a slight bend in his knees, low center of gravity, fists up, one gripping his knife, and ready. For a half minute he stood there in silence as he listened to the Hunters getting closer and closer. He breathed at a steady, even pace, enriching his blood with a surplus of oxygen. Sweat trickled down his back as the day grew warmer. A green hand appeared at the edge of the ledge. Then the other. The first Hunter pulled himself up. Standing six feet away, the man and the Hunter stared at each other. It was a good four inches taller than the man and was heavily muscled. The Hunter was armed with a small . . . axe was the best thing the man could compare it to. A graceful steel axe head was attached to a dark, wooden shaft as long as the man’s forearm. Attached to the butt of the axe weapon was a braided chord adorned with colorful clay beads. Tied to the end of the chord was a silver metal ball the size of a fist. The Hunter began speaking to the man, its gravelly voice stern and hostile. Strangely, the man felt a vague hint of familiarity towards the beings language. He brushed it off. He knew what the Hunter wanted. Without thinking, he touched his pocket with his free hand. A tinkling sound whispered from within. The Hunter saw this. “Bad idea,” was all the man had time to think before the Hunter attacked. 
Holding on to the axe end of its weapon, the hunter flung the metal ball right at the man’s head. He bent backwards as the shiny sphere sailed towards his face, attempting to move out of range. At the last moment, the chord attached to the Hunter’s axe stopped the weapon an inch from the man’s forehead. Before it could swing away from him, the man caught hold of the chord. The hunter let out a surprised grunt and began furiously trying to rip the chord from the man’s hands. The man saw his opening. He adopted a tug of war stance and pulled with all his might. The hunter, who had still been gripping the axe’s shaft tightly, flung forward towards the man completely off balance. It desperately attempted to regain its footing, a ferocious snarl gurgling in its throat. The man was too quick. Seizing his opportunity he lunged forward and stabbed the Hunter in the abdomen with his folding blade. Hot sticky blood squirted onto the man’s hand as he held the creature in a death embrace, one arm around its back and the other clutching the folding blade buried in its stomach. The Hunter fell silent, a look of surprise, pain and confusion appearing on its face. The man withdrew his blade and stabbed the creature again. It grunted, glaring at the man through its large eyes, blood appearing at the sides of its mouth as it drew in short, raspy breaths. The man stabbed one last time. The hunters eyes rolled back into its head and it collapsed to the floor of the cave. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Part 2: Lost in the Red Sand

The man awoke as the suns were beginning to peak over the eastern horizon. He sat up with a guttural groan. Every muscle, joint, and bone in his body cried out in painful protest. His mouth was completely dry; dehydration moving into a more serious stage. He had to hydrate. He wouldn’t make it another hour under the suns if he didn’t. The man unzipped his backpack and dug through it until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small metal device in the shape of a wish bone. The two prongs were connected in the middle by a metal tube. A Hydrogenator. This little gadget was incredible. It pulled hydrogen and oxygen from the air, combining the two elements together to create water in real time as the user sucked it from the metal mouthpiece. The man powered the hydrogenator on and drank his fill. Once he was rehydrated he powered the device back off. He had to conserve its battery. The downside to this incredible device was that the power needed to allow it to generate H2O was so great that it could only create about a gallon of water before it had used up its energy reserves. Seeing as he had no other source of water, the hydrogenator was just as important to the man as his own heartbeat. He poured out the rest of the contents of his back pack onto the floor of the cave to assess his resources. There were a pair of sun goggles, his hydrogenator, a geological mineral locator, a small med kit, a tube of calorie paste, a 5 inch folding blade, and some high strength utility chord. The man had 50 more miles to travel and he had to get back this day. He squeezed out a thousand calories of calorie paste into his mouth and choked it down. He couldn’t stand the taste of the nutrient rich concoction. It tasted of salty mud with a hint of boiled cabbage. Bad as it tasted, the man could already feel his body growing stronger as it began burning through the scientifically formulated paste. He packed up his meager assortment of belongings, clipping the 5 inch folding blade to his belt and wrapping the utility chord around his hand. The Hunters were still out there searching for him and the knife and the chord could be used as some kind of self-defense if it came to a fight. The man shouldered his back pack and headed for the mouth of the cave. He might as well get going while the temperature was still semi-cool. As he neared the mouth of the cave he heard something that made his blood run cold. Voices, sounding almost human but with a raspy undertone that were unmistakably inhuman. The man dropped to the floor and army crawled as silently as he could to the edge of the cave. Peaking over the side, he saw them. Hunters. 
Camped directly beneath the base of the man’s cave were . . . well he didn’t exactly know what to call them. To say what first came to mind sounded ridiculous. But, then again, the fact that he was breathing without his pressure suit and supplemental oxygen was supposed to be ridiculous too. Whatever they were, they were humanoid. They were tall and well-muscled with a lean, vascular physique. Every single one of the five Hunters, as the man had decided to call them, couldn’t have been less than six foot four. They wore baggy pants, resembling sweat pants, made of a strange silky tan colored material. Their facial features were angular and chiseled making them strangely handsome. They had eyes that were twice as large as any human eyes the man had ever seen. Their hair was a shade of blonde so light that it was almost white and was shaved into short mohawks on each . . . man, he assumed. The two most significantly odd features about the Hunters were their skin and their feet. They all had skin that was a light pastel green color that made them stand out against the dark rust color of the desert sand. Their feet were less of feet and more a second pair of hands, like those of chimpanzees. The five hunters stood in a circle around a highly polished hemisphere of silver metal. The light from the rising suns hit the half sphere of metal and reflected intensely back onto the bare, green torsos of the hunters. Their voices continued to drift up to the man. By the tone of their gravelly voices they seemed to be shooting the shit, reminding the man of the way he and his buddies interacted while sipping coffee around the table before an early morning hunting trip. “Well that’s ironic,” the man thought silently. 
Looking to the right, he saw 5 creatures even stranger than those around the metal hemisphere. Tied to wooden stakes hammered into the hard packed red clay was what the man could only guess were the green men’s steeds. Eight feet tall at their shoulders, each beast was covered with lustrous, light purple-gray hair like that of a horse. They had streamlined, feline-like bodies reminding the man of massive cheetahs. Their legs were chorded with rippling lean muscles that led to three pronged hoof-like feet similar to those of a chameleon. They had arched backs, making them ideal for sitting upon. Their heads were feline as well with big, round eyes. Even from the man’s distance he was awestruck by their eyes. Each beast had a unique eye color; emerald green, glowing gold, sky blue, shimmering silver, and ruby red. They were paralyzing beautiful creatures. Just gazing at them made the man’s already pounding heart beat even faster. The beast with the dark, ruby red eyes looked up at him. The man was not alarmed. He met the animal’s eyes and pleasantly felt his fear and stress melt off his body like hot wax. He let out a deep, contented sigh as his thoughts took on a serene type of peacefulness. A voice, far away, deep within his consciousness, whispered a panicked warning. “Look away,” it said. But before he could respond, that too was swept away by euphoric nirvana. 
His mind seemed to drift out of his brain and float around his head. He could sense the dust particles hanging in the air of the cave. The light from the rising suns felt tangent and physical. The man continued to gaze into those ruby red eyes. Then, something seemed to pierce into his liberated consciousness. Excruciating pain ripped into the man’s skull. His very being seemed to be burning, spreading through him like a raging wildfire. And still the man gazed into those ruby red eyes. Pain flooded through every fiber of his body. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t open his mouth. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t move his legs. He wanted to think, but it felt as if something was holding back his consciousness; forbidding it from using any kind of cognitive ability. The red-eyed beast then slowly opened its mouth. White, gleaming canines bore up at him. The man watched the beast inhale a breath of air. His mind broke free and screamed to his body, “RUN YOU DUMBASS, RUN! IT’S ABOUT TO—,” the animal roared. 

Monday, February 10, 2014

Part 1: Lost in the Red Sand

The hot, red sand crunched underneath his shoes as he continued his march into the hellish heat of the desert. His skin screamed with protest as it slowly roasted under the intense suns. Each step was torture. Sand had breached his hiking boots; effectively turning his socks to sandpaper, slowly and systematically rubbing his ankles raw. His breathing came in ragged, uneven gasps. Dehydration clawed at the back of his throat, made worse by the inhalation of the fine desert dust kicked up by the flurries of dirt devils. His mind had gone numb. He had only one concern.
            “Just keep walking, just keep walking, just keep walking. You’ve done this once, you can do it again,” echoed through his head, repeating over and over, like a broken record.
            To stop moving forward meant death. To turn back, also, was a death sentence. His only option was to keep going. He patted his pant pocket. A soft tinkering chime could be heard from within. A small, hopeful smile crackled across his dry lips splitting the chapped skin. Blood trickled from the torn skin and down his face, making him look like a savage. Looking up, he took in the monotonous red-tinged landscape. Sand dunes and rock outcrops as far as he could see stared angrily back at him, daring him to continue his trek into their domain. After a moment, the intense sunrays emitting from the dual suns, reflecting off of the crystalline sand became too much for his eyes. He looked back down, pulled his sun goggles out of his backpack, placed them over his eyes, and continued to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Further and further he journeyed, the desert slowly enveloping him into its vastness.
            On and on he traveled, the miles piling up behind him as the suns fell into the western horizon. The desert, so hot and merciless, began to rapidly cool. As the minutes ticked by the man began to feel strange. A new kind of discomfort, a sharp sensation, beginning in his fingers and toes, moving inward towards his torso. His core began to tighten as the sensation moved up into his chest. He could no longer feel the tips of his fingers. Then, suddenly, he began to shake.
            “What is happening to me?” he thought.
            Just as he began to panic, he realized. He shook his head at his own stupidity. He was cold, that’s all. The intense variation in the temperatures, combined with dehydration and exhaustion, had clouded his thinking to the point of being unable to recognize a sensation as common as lower temperature.
            “I need to find a place to rest for the night,” the man thought.
            Scanning the landscape by the dim light of the falling suns, he spotted a sandstone bluff riddled with shallow caves, hollowed out by the constant erosion of the wind. It was a perfect place to hole up for the night. The suns continued their decent into the west, one falling faster than the other, as he made his way to his desert motel. By the time he had arrived, the suns were long gone. Navigating by the dim moonlights, the man spied a reasonable sized indention in the cliff; about twelve feet wide and extending a good twenty five feet deep. It was dry, warm, and protected from the chilling wind. There was only one problem. It was about thirteen feet above the man’s head. He had a decision to make. There was one other cave, smaller and low to the ground, that he could take shelter in. It was easier to get to, but, it was also less sheltered and offered a less than ideal view to watch for Hunters. He stood there, silently pondering his decision, as his exhausted body berated him with aching pain for delaying its rest.
Okay, the cave’s about thirteen feet up, I’m in thirty eight percent E-grav, I can jump . . . shit, what’s my vertical? Forty inches? Let’s go with that. Okay, so that means I can jump . . . about twelve and a half feet. Damn, this is gonna be a close one,” he thought.
 He stood there pondering his decision for a few more moments. Then, he made his decision. The man tightened his backpack, took a deep breath, and jumped with all his strength. He sailed up into the air, the wind from his sudden acceleration roaring in his ears. The edge of the cave approached him quickly. Closer and closer it rushed to him; five feet, three feet, one foot, there. Just as his upward movement came to its vertex, the man grabbed hold of the rough sandstone edge. He held on tightly, hands being torn to shreds by the abrasive rock. He hung for a moment, gathering himself. Then, he took a deep breath, pulled himself up and heaved himself into the sanctuary of the cave. He lay on his back, breathing heavily, too tired to do anything other than remove his backpack and put it under his head. The man fell asleep within seconds. 

Friday, February 7, 2014

Big Brother

Hey little brother, you can count on me
The world is a scary place its best we stick together
I’ve got your back no matter what it may or may not be

Hey little sister, I’ll protect you forever
I’ll fight, I’ll kill, I’ll bruise, I’ll bleed
Because I’m your big brother

Hey little siblings, together we are three
Let’s stick together, like we’re tethered

Even if one of us leaves

Wednesday, February 5, 2014


This poem was inspired by a kid I heard about who is a little different from the other kids at his school and is having a hard time. It is written from his perspective. I took some liberties with the story so it's not really about him anymore but more about social outliers in general. Especially the end. That didn't happen to the kid in real life.

I'm lonely
I look in the mirror
I hate what I see
I walk by myself
I hear them whispering
" . . . weird . . . "
" . . . creepy . . . "
" . . . crazy . . . "
Their words are like razors on my skin

I have no friends
I crave companionship
I dream of acceptance
I get none
I'm too 
" . . . weird . . . "
" . . . creepy . . . "
" . . . crazy . . . "
My words are like razors on my skin

I see her
I adore her
She sees me
She avoids me
She said,
" . . . friends . . . nothing more . . . "
We aren't friends.
Her words are like razors on my skin

I'm lonely
I look in the mirror
I hate what I see
I stand in a porcelain bathtub
I remember their whispers
" . . . weird . . . "
" . . . creepy . . . "
" . . . crazy . . . "
The razor cuts like their words into my skin.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Oh, Say Can YOU See?

"I am not a crook."
"I did not have sexual relations with that woman."
"If you like your healthcare plan, you can keep it. Period."

Politicians are liars
The representatives are not representative
The justice system is not just
The government does not care about Us

"of the people"
                       "for the people"
                                                "by the people"

We the People
of the United States of America
Are not being governed
We are being 

Bad Words are Bullshit

Bad words don't make sense
Fuck, shit, bitch, and ass
Are synonymous with
Sex, feces, female dog, and buttocks
Yet the latter are not bad

Who decided bad words were bad?
Why would a language have words you can't say?
Seems kind of pointless
Kind of a waste of space

Some bad words are only bad sometimes
"My bitch had a beautiful litter of puppies."
Is okay
"Miley Cyrus is a dumb bitch."
Is bad

Some bad words are only bad because of their context even if the sentences are the same
"The man rode her ass."
Isn't bad if the sentence is describing a man borrowing a woman's donkey for travel
"The man rode her ass."
Is bad if the sentence is describing a sexual encounter with a woman

Language is all relative
Why label some words bad?
I don't get it.
Bad words are bullshit


Tapping thumbs
On Plexiglas
Back-lit screens
Moving fast

Heads bent down
Eyes glued to screens
By "funny" scenes

Always with us
Never gone
We have to have them
Or we feel all wrong

Needles, bottles
Pills, patron
Pipes and papers
And iPhones

Dr. Time

She feels like she's broken
She's missing a part
Unable to love
With all of her heart

This piece of her soul
She gave it away
Too young and reckless
To realize she'd pay

A wound gone unwashed
Scabbed over unclean
Given no time
To heal properly

Infection of heart
Painful yet hidden
Holding her back from the man
Whom she's smitten

An abscess of soul
Cut open and washed
She can begin
To replace what she lost

Time is her friend
With a healing embrace
As it continues
A glow returns to her face

It may take a while
Or no time at all
I just want her to know
I'll be there to catch her if she falls


I see a lion standing before me. It's like nothing I have ever seen before. Tall as a horse, its mane is long and full, the color of the morning sun. Its body is heavily muscled and covered in a short, shimmering coat of tan fur the color of an African savanna. With each movement, the lion's muscles ripple causing light to dance across its shiny coat. It is entrancing. Suddenly I see its fangs. I am paralyzed with intense terror. Its canines are as long as daggers and the purest shade of white I have ever seen. I stare at those deadly weapons for minutes, unable to tear my gaze away. 
Finally, the lion lowers its head and forces my gaze to meet its eyes. They are shockingly brilliant. The lion's dark brown eyes are speckled with flakes of every color in the rainbow. Looking into them, he looks back into mine. I feel warm, a sense of absolute joyful peace pours over me and floods into my soul. A presence touches my mind and rests on my heart. I can hear music in my head. I know I've never physically heard the tune radiating within my skull but somehow I know exactly how it goes. It is the most beautiful, happy, powerful sound to ever grace my being. I just want to dance. So I do. The lion watches me and begins making a series of short, guttural growls and I realize he is laughing. I can feel his amusement strum through my body like a guitar string. I start to laugh with him as I dance to the music in my head like a little kid. The lion sits back on his haunches and bobs his head in time with the music. For the first time in my life I feel whole, I feel complete, I feel safe. I know this is how life was meant to be. 
I am overcome with happiness and run to the lion. I sit between his two massive front legs and rest my back against his warm, soft chest. He laughs his infectious, guttural laugh again and sniffs the top of my head, his hot breath ruffling up my hair. I look up at the lion.
"Who are you?" I ask.
The lion stands up and looks down at me. He pushes me onto my feet with his enormous paw. I turn to face him. I seem him standing nobly before me, radiating strength, power and authority. He bears his fangs and opens his mouth as if to roar. A voice like a hundred trillion thunderclaps sounding at once, overwhelmingly powerful, answers.
"I am Alpha."

Sailing the Sky

I'm flying up high in a hot air balloon 
Up in the sky that is beautifully blue 
The clouds far beneath me, look like sand dunes 
I look up above and see stars and the moon 

The stars start to fall and catch in the wind
They float down like snow and rest on my skin 
The man in the moon winks at me and grins 
I think that I might have just made a friend

My heart is filled up with pure ecstasy 
As i float all around in the atmosphere's sea 
I am relaxed, happy and free 
In a hot air balloon riding the breeze