The Journey to Freedom

Like a genie in a bottle he is trapped. The rules and boundaries of society, shackling him to the spot. So long has he wanted to spread his wings, to become the very beast the law despises. The prospect of treading air is but a distant dream, a haven to escape reality... To live, to love, to fight for what is right. These are virtues to which every man abides, but with society crashing down around him, he has nothing to turn to, nobody to help him. Nothing.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I am always hungry, I must always be fed, if I touch your finger, it shall turn red.
What am I?

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A wide and deep and vast expanse,
Upon which forever we shall dance,
Celebrating our true freedom,
Unbound in the endless, unfathomable waters
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Stand With Me

Some call me a redneck some say I'm a hippy, I can't deny that those two words  describe me, but they don't define me.  Society places you in a category like they know your story but if you open your eyes there’s really more to see.  I’m an American, I’m supposed to be proud and free, but I’m not proud of what my country has turned out to be, I can’t see how I deserve freedom more than those that are different from me.  Everybody wants to live in peace and harmony, but the land of the free turns the other cheek.  It’s about money, not about the people, you see,  in reality, none of us are really free, we’re only 

Sheep.  Nothing’s cheap, but we’re expected to work for next to free, it’s like slavery, what happened to the land of opportunity?  We want to fight back, but we don’t know what we’re fighting for, things don’t feel right anymore, but we’re too blind to see that this democracy is just a business for those that are richer than me.  We’re pawns in the game of currency. 


 It’s time for a revolution, but we’re not on the same page, we feel hatred and rage, when we should be motivated, let’s make a real change.  Religion and nationalism create egos, love of money creates problems, our governments create war,  we the people need to solve’em.  Anarchy is viewed so negatively, but what it means to me, is to live as free as we’re supposed to be.  I’m not writer, but this needs to be said, our constitution is dead, and needs to be revived before we all live regrettably.  People jailed by a plant grown naturally, turned away at the borders cuz they’re tanner than me, governments creating war internally, to fight back can only be done illegally.


 Who’s going to stand with me, and set this world free?!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Not so much a poem, more of an outcry to take action.

True Freedom

Trapped alone in a cave,
Our freedom we still save,
As our lives are inscribed and trapped away,
As a bottle of dried ink.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The third line here is a bit long. I muddled over keeping it as trapped, changing it to inscribed, or to keep both. I decided to keep both:
Inscribed helps to lead into the last verse, and give us more of a hint than the "ink" as the final word. It also develops the last line into an actual poetry verse and not just a few words in a line.
Trapped helped me indicate to the readers that the writer was indeed trapped in a cave, however they still retained the freedom of writing their thoughts. That is true freedom. Without this, the readers would only have the first word to indicate that the character was in a cave; hardly enough (as readers normally only trully enjoy the poem starting from the second verse, and to catch that they would need to reread it; you don't enjoy the magic of it nearly as much the second time around) to express that.


So I needed both of these. I also originally had "dried" replaced with "buried" in the last verse, and the writing would be buried, as would the writer. However, the poem only indicated that the person was trapped and not  caved in. Among other things, this could lead to quite a bit of confusion without explanation.

American Struggle


This reality is my demise

Where everything I hear is evil and full of lies

There's a little girl hungry but no one hears her cries

Cuz her mothers workin two jobs strugglin but she tries


This worlds just so fucked up

People murder and betray just for a quick buck

And you won't make it out alive without a little bit of luck

It's a sad realization that the world is so corrupt

Inner-City school's now in session

" And I don't wanna learn the streets teach me lessons"

The kid says while his mom counts her blessins

Praying her sons not a victim of intellectual recession

Lower class is second class in this nation

Where people look to crime for salvation

And don't blame us for giving into the temptations

It's a trickle down economy but we're dying of dehydration.


So what are we supposed to do?

When it feels like the worlds united against you.

Getting sick in this nation if you don't have insurance

Could be a death wish if you don't have the endurance

To keep fighting for your right to a life

If you could call it that through all the hardship and strife

But you gotta stay optimistic in this sadistic

Nation where we come second to special interest

I promise, what I'm telling you is fact

Obama and Romney's biggest supporter is Goldman Sachs

That's no coincidence you can realize that

Just open your eyes long enough to see the devilish pact

And now is the time for us to react

Take our country back We need a revolution stat

They can't get away with their oppresive facist acts

Or you can just sit back relax and wonder where your freedom is at


Just wake up

Open your eyes

Realize that our government lies

And before another soldier dies

Before another family cries

We need to rise

Cut ties with this government guise

fight for your lives cause your freedoms the prize

just open your eyes

And realize what they took

The truth is right in front of you 

But don't be scared to look

Latent Prince





Part I of II



This is the story of Larry Joe Prince

And the way Arizona stole his innocence.

It is written with hope that there may come a day

When a wise judge will grant him his moment to say

All the things so conveniently left out of court,

Made American “justice” look more like a sport,

With a high-priced attorney that didn’t think clear,

And the false testimony of one with much fear,

And the state prosecute thought “I’ll surely reach fame”,

He said, “Hell, I don’t care who the state wants to blame,

It’s a paycheck to me; I don’t care about truths,

It’s my ego I feed, I’m a low lying sleuth!!”


So they all drew their “guns” on that guy Mr. Prince,

Absolutely no shred of secure evidence,

They proceeded to send him to death row to sit,

For the murder of one that he did not commit,

And the biggest and worst sin of all that was done,

Was the way that the people held on to their “guns”,

They embraced all the lies to evade what was clear,

As revenge prevailed justice with each little tear,

And for those in the grave who just watch from above,

With no longer a voice to teach them that real love,

Is not proven by putting the blame on a man,

Just because he is there….cause the courts and you can,


See the proof of one’s love speaks out so very clear,

Even after the grave when one’s body’s not here,

You will hear their soul cry, and you’ll then know for sure,

If they’re resting in peace or they’re haunted some more.


There are families that hide from life’s reality,

The dead man in this case begs you hear his soul’s plea,

Make amends for the errors you’ve made in the past,

And put down all those stones, and those already cast,

If this dead man could speak he’d have something to say,

Of the circus that ran through the courtroom that day,

And if not for the dead man then do it for you,

Cause we all have to answer to God what is true,

Larry Prince knows he’s clear and he wins either way,

                              Cause he’s INNOCENT judge, the state’s in disarray.                                

So please read all with care on this day we implore,

Please don’t look at this life as a game where you score,

It’s integrity that is of stake in this court,

And it’s not mine or yours it’s this country’s that’s short

Of a quality no longer active today,

If it dies, it’s the lives of our loved one’s…they’ll pay.

Take your time, read it all, and be true to your heart,

And we’ll all pray it’s not too late for a new start.



Part II of II



They all loved cocaine but they hid it from Dad,

He just couldn’t believe that his kids could be “bad”,

So his eyes he did close, and they stayed tightly shut,

While his best offspring died with that stuff in his gut,

And they said, “It was murder”, and placed the blame there,

Yes, it’s true ‘bout that bullet and blood in his hair,

And the roots of that crime have been hidden so well,

By the real guilty ones with the lies they did tell,

For those self-righteous ones that just stared and stood by,

And condoned this deceit without batting an eye,

For the cowards that watched as the killers went free,

Be aware this could happen to you or to me,

And your sons or your daughters could one day be led

To a place where they wish they would rather be dead,

So now don’t be afraid to let truths in your ears

When your children are hurting with eyes full of tears,

Don’t you cower or shudder, don’t whine and don’t wince,

And remember the story of Larry Joe Prince.


Written in parts, from 2000-2002

Original Copyright 2002 

Registration Number / Date:

                   TXu001112792 / 2002-12-02




07/21/13 ©



Author's Notes/Comments: 

The story of how justice can go awry when emotions rule instead of justice ruling.



Say Hello To You

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Your deepest desire is to possess,

And yet you are abundant with love,

However restless the urge, 

It is locked in a cage,

Because of your blindness,

Keeping clipped it's feathered wings,

And wear it's eyes upon your face

Like the tattoos painted on Atayal women,

And feel your way through the darkness

With tentacles extended out through the apex of your heart,

That emerged from the desperation of being forced 

To learn how to thrive off of suffering,

Feelers for intuitive mime and bands of neuronal waste,

Originating through longing,

And surviving off the dreams of the dead.


You are the first one of your kind,

You don't have to crawl on hands and knees

In order to be blessed and hallowed,

Just remove the paint, and wear the feathers 

Of the softest ugliness you can find

In the hollow places of yourself,

And they'll grow to be as beautiful 

Or more beautiful as those you grapple and claw 

Lure and conspire, to possess,

That belong to others,

Because you can only ever

Have what you have,

And what you do not have,

You will never have.




12:47 AM 7/5/2013






Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a poem about when we think that we need something from someone else, due to being blind about how much we already have. It's a work in life.

A Fight For August

Short Stories

My hands have a bluish tint to them thanks to the cold and I can barely feel the homemade cigarette between my fingers. Laurie is lying next to me on the large, scratchy blanket slowly puffing on hers. She learned to make them with tea from a Youtube video. They’re not half bad but she looks better smoking them than I do.

   I turn over onto my back and rest my face against her shoulder.

     “Ya know, this would be a very movie-like situation if we weren’t turning into giant icicles,” I say as I stare at the quivering stars.

   Laurie laughs too loud and covers her mouth. We both quickly look over at her house to make sure no one woke up.

“Jordan, look it’s a shooting star.” She points to the sky, her cig leaving behind twirly trails of smoke.

I grab her freezing hand in mine and smile. I close my eyes and take a deep breath of icy air.

     “What did you wish for?” I ask her. I hold my cigarette between my forefinger and my thumb.

     “That we won’t get caught.”

     “What? Smoking or running away?” I turn to face her.

     “Running away,” she says. “Have you figured out where you want to go? We can’t stay in one spot, but we’ll still go to L.A.”

I roll over onto my stomach and pick at a splinter in my thumb.

     “I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we should go through with it. It’s not worth the punishment. I mean, our parents would never trust us again. It wouldn’t be a big deal if we were gonna run away for forever, but we’re coming back. And I’m sure they’d find us anyway.”

I don’t look at Laurie as she sits up and stares at me.

     “Jordan, you can’t be serious. I need this. We need this,” she says. She cranes her neck to try and get me to look at her.

I don’t.

     “Fine. I’ll go alone.”

Is she serious, right now? I can’t believe her. Always the drama queen.

I don’t say a word but breathe in the bitter smoke from my cig and blow it out through my teeth.

     “Well, some friend you are. I guess I see your true colors now. I thought you cared, Jordan. I guess I was wrong.” She tucks her legs up to her chin and places her crossed arms on top of them.

I roll my eyes underneath my fringe.

     “I do care, Laurie. It’s just that I’m not willing to risk my freedom for temporary freedom. And what would we even be able to do? We’re 15 not 21.”

     “That’s why we’ll bring Devon. He’s 20.”

     “He won’t come. And, dude, that might be illegal. He could get in trouble for running away with a couple of minors.” I stand up and stomp on the butt of my cigarette with my boot. “And since he won’t come we can’t go because he’s the one that drives.”

    “I’ll be able to drive in a few months, legally that is.”

     “Then fine. Go alone. Suit yourself.” I stand up and adjust my cookie monster beanie that I borrowed from Laurie’s younger brother. “Life isn’t as bad as you think, ya know? All you can do is create great moments like these ones and make sure reality’s not allowed in for a little while. I hope you have fun. See you in the morning.” I lean down and kiss her head.

I climb down the ladder and smile at her.

She doesn’t smile back.

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I Want to Be the Girl That Flies

I want to be the girl that flies

With crystal wings

Across blue skies


From down below

Always knowing

Where to go

I want to be the girl that lands 

And this girl is greeted

With outstretched hands

I want my friends to keep me safe

From that scary lonely terrible place

I want to be the girl that dances

She’s not afraid of taking chances

She’s been burned

But she’s not shy

I want to be the girl that flies 

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