The Curious Case of the Blossoming Clouds

It is official ladies and gentleman! My book, a collection of prose and poetry is now available for purchase on I will be sure to add a link soon for the book to be purchased. Today is one of the happiest days of my life. If you buy the book, I hope you enjoy! 

UPDATE: It may still not be available today. For certain it will be available for purchase tomorrow.


Down on the sandy sea,

I await the call to be free,

To be released for oppression 

And desiring worldly possessions

And existing in this false reality.

While some call into question my sanity,

I understand that reality itself

Is a simple falsehood, I myself

Realize the futility of man,

The little we can

Do, and await to be taken

By the blue waters, waiting to be awakened.

Being Bitter

Few are willing to face the ugly truth straight into its eyes. Those that do are more enlightened than the rest. Majority however, are willing to manipulate stories into tall tales to better themselves.

A Simple Cup


Bitter the brew sits,

Awaiting for someone to take a sip.

Before lips approach, the bitter brew

Is changed to fit the tastes

Of an individual, breaking and distorting

It from its original and pure form.

While few can take it bitter,

Many are unwilling to accept

What is presented before them.


Life as an Idol

A beautiful and blistering satire of society. Can you figure out who the real mannequins are?

Life as an Idol


Stuck in the same position; unable to move and unable to hide. In front of the window every day, not able to even leave at night or on the weekend. I am stuck like this, having to be an idol to society.

I am the image you must aspire to. You must follow me and my style. Wear what I wear and look how I look. You cannot have any free will for I am your will. If you do not follow my lead, you are a worthless disgrace that should die.

Yet, despite me saying this, I am a hypocrite. I have no free will of my own. I am dressed by others, have no voice to express myself with and cannot move on my own. I need to be moved by others. I always require help. I am just as fake as those who follow me.

Feeling Lost

Lost and broken on the inside

With no place to run and hide,

I hide inside myself, wishing 

For time to stop moving,

If for a brief moment

So i can gather my broken

Self. Torn to shreds lies

My heart and soul, no longer able to fly.

Engulfed by the eternal black

Seeking a way to go back

To my former self

Hoping someone could help.