Tag Archives: poetry

False Awakenings

Dreams within dreams are one of the most frightening things. You wake up and you’re running late. Or maybe in an odd situation so you try to remedy it by rushing to school or work, but a few seconds later you get up to find that was a dream and you’re thinking to yourself, I thought I already woke up? but you haven’t and you’re a little freaked out. Almost as if you’re in the twilight zone. Something doesn’t quite feel right so you climb right out of bed and you head to get ready when something odd occurs that shatters your false sense of reality and you awaken again, this time you’re questioning if you’re awake after the other two false awakenings.

I’ve only experienced this phenomenon a couple times, but each time it freaked me out. I had sworn I’d woken up several times, but truth is I had only awakened once. The rest were dreams with dreams. I’m not sure what causes this or what it means, but it’s not a fun thing to experience.



Writer’s Block


A short poem about the angst of writer’s block when it comes to creative writing.


The images tear from my mind

And it’s as if I’ve gone blind

Once the words were flowing

Now I don’t know where this story is going

It’s like someone hit the off switch on my creativity

It must be a result of the hyperactivity

Of a mind bending, changing from an

Quiet home to a war zone

Depending on the day and project

Like an architect

Plotting their next masterpiece

Please come back to me


I need to form a new creation

But as I stop obsessing and stressing

Over the loss of the words to write

It’s as if the blindfold lifts, and I regain sight

Opening my eyes to a beautiful world

One yet to be explored

The angst is over






I decided to share a poem I wrote for my senior English class in high school 4 years ago.


There was a politician

With high ambitions.

Most popular of his time,

He was perceived as sublime.

A lofty person he was.

He created quite a buzz.

Contemplating his speeches,

To the nation he preaches.

Promising the protestors,

Picketing in polyester,

Entrusting their faith in him,

Playing on their every whim.

He worked hard to get here

With a lot of lying sweat and tears.

With the talent of manipulation,

Smiling on every news station,

Supporters from coast to coast,

When all alone, he would boast.

His bureaucratic style

Made it even more worthwhile.

Profiting from civilians,

The campaign is making millions.

Lobbyist didn’t bother him;

Backdoor dealing kept him vim.

Passing of propositions

Gave him acclimations.

He was an attractive guy,

Always in suit and tie.

His agenda was obscene,

Adjusted to fit his schemes.

He claims he can help fix things,

But what he says means nothing.

He could care less about anyone.

He is priority number one.



Self-destruction come to those who seek you

Genocides, Wars and Coups

Hard to grasp, difficult to attain

One can be driven insane

Your seeming perfection

leads to deception

Few will possess you and it won’t be for long

They say acquisition of you is reserved for the strong

But hunger for you leads to corruption

Any presumptions

Can lead to an insurrection

Or assassination

It may seem the most sought after thing is money

But for those seeking world domination or absolute control you are sweeter than honey