Category Archive: Poems

Jul 28

My Friends

All my friends where have you run?

You have run away from a choice

I have chosen and done

I have chosen not to buy or use your drugs

And now I’ll be missing all your hugs

Every time I see you guys pass by

I can’t say hi

And tears fall from my eyes for I’ll always miss

Our great times

I’ve tried to go back to my other friends

But they say

“It’s your fault you put our friendship to an end!”

Now I have no one to go to and no one to see

But don’t worry mom and dad

I’m not going to kill myself over a little misery

I just don’t know where I’m going,

Photographer: Gerald Brantner

Or what I’m doing,

In the American land of the free

Everything has it’s good and bad

My decision was good but it makes me sad

The consequences of drugs was losing my friends

But I hold my head up high because I knew

I would make more before I’m dead

But it’s the old ones I want

Because they were so good to me!

I’m not going back

My choice has been made

And when I wake up tomorrow

It will be a brand new day

To make new friends

I know I wont stop

until the end


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Jul 16

Bring on the Rain

Days run even longer now that you are not by my side,
As the crisp fall air steals away the sun.
A cool breeze surreptitiously flows past me, through me,
notice only because of the chilled licks of September air,
And leaves dancing bewitchingly in circles.

The memories suddenly begin washing over me,
A wave of emotions crashing into my broken soul.
I fill
my lungs with a deep cool breath of air
As I am engulfed within the convolution of emotions.

Ah, the feel of you again, bittersweet.

Photographer: Filippo Arturo Nesci


So many sensations at once,
The indulgence of your touch,
The fervency of your breath lingering over my skin
The ecstasy of your sweet voice in my head.
All of it rivaled only by the liquid warmth rolling down over my cheeks.

The sun is setting on the horizon now,
The images of your stunningly perfect face easily putting it to shame
As the dark clouds roll in.

Your warmth is challenged by the cool rain, intruding on my happiness.
Individual drops
splash onto your picture, be it rain or tears

You are slipping away from me.


The picture falls through my fingers and floats to the ground,
As I try to hide my eyes.

Bring on the Rain.


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Jul 13


And she didn’t want the doctor to know
The drugs hidden in her veins
Her stomach and her brain
Naked, bruised from being beat
Signs of rape in her unconsious sleep
Saline drip to dilute the numb pain
Adrenaline to keep the heart pumping
Mom crying in the corner
Staring at me with a plead of help
As I lift her daughter up for the x-ray
The mom gets on her knees to pray
Not caring about the radiation
Just wanting to stay
But she can’t be near
She can’t hear what the doctor has to say
Officers take her out of the room
I Set her daughter back onto the cassette
Time passing in slow motion
As I set up the x-ray machine
Eyes roll back into her head
Siezing body shaking in the bed
Beeping stops
Heart rate drops
Instant CPR
Flushed red in my face
Screams in closed cramped space
My roommate takes over for me
Sweat falls, knowing the mom has lost it all
I back my machine away
Passing the mom nervously
She is shouting questions in worry
One look into her eyes
I grin “I’m sorry”
And she starts to cry.
Then to my surprise we get a beep
Rushing back before she falls again to sleep
X-ray exposed, an image is formed
“You’re Central Line looks good”
More drugs are administered
I pull away from my machine, look at my list
“room 7 is next”
Sweat starts to dry
But on my way there
A rush of men in blue
I look back to the trauma room
And hear someone say
“Some people just can’t be saved”

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Jul 12

A Melting Candle

Liquid courage drowning in my veins
Angry liver seems to be my favorite game
Is this the price to pay to live?
After losing all the puzzle pieces
I finally found the confidence to give
Grandpa dies

Photographer: Valentina Nesci

No more superman idol
Didn’t matter how much he read his bible
Flooded alcohol escaping as burning tears
Red blood shot eyes exposing my fears
Holding air tightly only feeling my skin
This time I’m on the other end of the mirror
Connecting to all the families that lost
No x-ray today
The patient has passed away
The backyard creek side beds
Grow scenic spider webs
Who will throw rocks in the water for the stray dogs
As they sleep at his door waiting for it to open
Their tennis balls fading in the sunlight
Never heard the creaks of this house
Until I took my last steps out
Closed the door and locked it away
Now I’m sitting on the rocks of Butte creek
With my nickname shirt “The Geek”
A bottle full of courage
To get me through the day
The drive home and my unfortunate birthday

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Jul 07

I Knew A Man

I know a man, I see him every day
Its always the same
He wakes up in the morning and puts on his suit
He grabs a cup of coffee and watches the news

I know a man, who goes to work
Its always the same
He files papers
He looks out the window
and wonders what the sun feels like

I know a man, who comes home from work
Its always the same
He eats dinner
He watches TV
and wonders what the night feels like

But on that day, I didn’t see the man
There was no suit, it lay crumpled on his bed
The news went unwatched and the paper lay soaked on the lawn
The coffee went cold in its pot, and the cup gathered dust

On this day, the man told me
He wanted to know how the Sun felt
What the Night smelled like, and to feel the hairs on the back of his neck
Today this man lived… and I never saw him again.

Photographer: Valentina Nesci

I see a man, He is starring back at me from the mirror
This man is smiling
I don’t know this man. Not anymore.

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Jun 27

The Plunge

Even the coroner grew sick
Reading “Hesitation” tattooed on both his wrists
Because he knew one day
He’d successfully take his life being happy
Ranting this as he fell to the water
With a smile of clarity
Not thinking about his mother
A death sad to all but not to him
Not being reborn for he has sinned
He never wanted to live forever
His doped up brain made him think he was clever
And I wonder if at that very moment before he hit the water
He remembered instantly sober
“Oh my god… my daugh-“

Photographer: Valentina Nesci


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Jun 26


Thriving off the brutal hatred of the masses, the hateful

Cares not for the illusion of love, but the truth of emnity

Discordian willfully scorned, rightfully banished

Heir to the throne of the underdog disowned


What meaning is there in the illusion of unity?

Where compromise breeds only corruption and lies

Surely even in perfect unity there is naught

Even as the light cannot be understood without darkness!

Photographer: Valentina Nesci











Roaming this hateful earth, the Discordian

He strikes against the flow, that the river might be


The imbuer of conflict, that Beauty might be appreciated.

The self-proclaimed Martyr, self-destined as Cain.

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Jun 20

Operating Room

Blood drips like an unattended faucet
Blue and green towels with blotchy dark red
Booty covered shoe prints along the floor
Heavy metal playing inside the closed doors

“If this patient weren’t so fat”
The surgeon yells
“This wouldn’t be such hell”
Slip and fall and break it all
Age wasn’t a factor when calcium was lacked
Next will be her recovery heart attack

I should have brought mints to hide beneath my mask
Cauterized skin burns in my mouth
A taste that’s hard to eliminate
Newcomers could gag or strangulate
It’s more potent than television can show
Only the true hospital workers know
For now I’ll pinch my mask a little harder

Hammering the new replacement hip in
Crime scene splatter hits the face shields
Blood runs down my machine like rain on a window
Bone pieces clog the suction
Who knew there was so much destruction
Electric saw cuts away the femoral head
Smoke arises
Nose hairs curl once again
Tickling my nose but I can’t touch it
There’s blood on my gloves from touching my machine
Only my shoulder can end this misery

The surgeon stooped and looked at the scrub tech
Face pushed forward like he was looking at his lover
It was the signal to peel away the face shield cover
Like new again the surgeon can see
More hammering coming


“SHIT” is never a good thing to hear
Such brittle bone it broke again
Our hearts jump in fear
Now the femur is worse than before
I have no idea what’s in store
Stomach grumbling as I look at the clock in pain
Food is far away again

A new prosthesis, plate and wires
Four hours later I’m so )(#*ing tired
Slipping on the goo below
My machine maneuvers with a pink glow
Final x ray images are saved
I back out and give the surgeons a wave
Print their films and call it a day

And when it’s all said and done
I look at the slowly waking patient
Seeing the stitches holding on for dear life
To know and hear all the things that were said
That’s kept between the room and only our heads
You’ll never know what we think of you
But ignorance is bliss

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Jun 19


My housemates and I have a couple of magnetic poetry sets that we play with on our refrigerator, and a while back I created a poem which I rather like. It’s aptly entitled…


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Jun 19


Cursed with imagination taboo, the Unspeakable

Knows not from whence the thoughts flow, but the baton he cannot pass on

With none to appreciate, no one to receive his heart

Their minds blinded by conjecture and distrust


Where can the energy freely flow, without fear or hate?

A utopia of Beauty and Love such as this cannot exist!

For whom might the Unspeakable steward his riches?

As riches they are to naught but himself!


To read between the unsaid lines, to think the unspeakable

Only the perverted of mind can see Beauty in these things

His altruism lost in translation, mistaken for Impiety

The acts of purity received as Naivety.


Lost in a torrent of creative deviance

The Unspeakable cannot help but conjure his witchcraft

His good intentions go to waste, as the world marvels at his wickedness

Unwittingly the message cut short, replaced with the imposter Prejudice


Still the Unspeakable presses on, content with the misunderstandings bestowed

The impetus founded in the hope of inspiration

In the lies of the world his Truth might yet be found

For the seeker without bias, doubt or fear


The Truth that can only be known to the Unspeakable

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