A Poem Page

Page 2  

Nicholas Camarena


 Free Radical.

I was called a "Free Radical" (a Chemistry term) today by a Dr. because of my new hunt for my second half to make a pair. The Dr. - when he thought about it - seemed to be put in a scare.



Mickey and Mallory Knox (did it) 

Who do you pray to . . . for a bad motha' F***ing B**ch to come ride with you on your way - downstream? Oh, Mallory Knox, how your Mickey - calls for thee.



(Poem X) 

My Heart, Mind, Soul, Body, and now Face, is all f***** up - yet I still get people that want to f***. Ain't that some Sh**. I thought I was supposed to be part of the gender that was shallow. Perhaps, however, they understand they are cold inside from birth - and they are wondering if I can lend them some extra heat to make their soul feel good on earth. Though, extra heat, is going to feel like a fire tide, when they realize with me, it's a fast train on the Hades ride.



Unit 3

I sat there, unsure, uneasy, still waiting for death to arise -

you sat there, in turmoil, close, but still in distance, with tears boiling through your eyes

I listened to you with everything I had, I tried to make sense of the situation you were going through -

then, suddenly, the feeling of wanting to die left my entire body

Why? I had no idea, it didn't happen until then -

quite possibly, though, death slipped his grips away from me,

because he knew that at that moment,

I finally had a friend.



The Mystery of Music


Am I able to move my fingers and connect emotion to sounds?

So other's can hear what I feel - as if it's unbound -

I haven't been taught how to do it -

I just can

I don't ever remember being scared of it, I just knew to begin -

I suppose as most things in life

the why, the how, and the true reason -

is best left to being a mystery -

for now, I'll simply keep playing

playing, until the day all my emotions and notes

are simply a dead man's history. 



Impish Kiss

I look at you -

as you look at me

I don't have to say a word -

because you already know what I think

Our minds were bent, but not out of shape -

through an impish kiss, was the only escape

sometimes in life we have to move fierce and steady -

just know, 

because I'm impish and foolish,

for the escape

I'm always ready.




I was locked up -

though, I wasn't alone -

people from all different walks of life -

somehow found themselves in the same zone -

It was amazing we all came together -

like a flock of birds, caged, because we are missing feathers -

we knew non of us were prefect, we knew better -

it was amazing to be present in that reality where we didn't have to pretend to be perfect -

for that - I felt saddened for the birds on the outside who still have to pretend -

that they have all their feathers intact -

but when their reality hits -

I just hope a group of people will be there for them -

the way this group - had my back. 


"Letters from the Inside"

In July of 2019 I spent ten days locked in CBHC Fresno.  These are poems I had written on a little notepad by hand provided to us in the Unit. 



You came up to me to say hello -

while I finished my jello -

a notion not unseen -

a stark difference between unit 1 and unit 3 - 

if these days are my last 

at least I got to spend it with your grace and class - 

Thank you for being a friend to me, 

but everyone knows an angel like you - 

shouldn't be with a devil like me. 

July 20th , 2019 




The coldest thing about it - 

is even though this is a place you put me -

you still were too cold hearted , selfish, to even find time to visit once.  Something tells me we'll see each other again.  

In a place where lairs and cheats and cold hearts go to rest - my friend. 

Sunday, July 28th 2019



I have to admit - 


will always -

smell good. 

Sunday, July 28th, 2019 


My Heart

Has been passed around by so many - 

in a game of splash -

to each that touched it -

I gave them my all - 

I just wish someone would hold onto it after the water falls. 



Camarena, Nicholas     28 dec 84  34 m 

                                      CSN# 287774417


Dear Lord, 

That's my number, 

So Fucking call it. 



Mistake - no, now. 

My whole life I had made stupid mistkeas - 

some can be removed and some can't - 

but perhaps my biggest mistake is asking for help. 

Perhaps I should just look at those who came before me as a teacher to a lost prophet. 

Suicide is not the giving up on all hope - or - the giving up on life - nor the giving up of the struggle you are in - 

but rather - 

suicide is  simply approving natures end to one self - where as nature wants you gone, it says in a few 50 years - so you simply say , no - now. 

7-24 - 2019


Standing Without Ground

Look at me not - 

Feel me not - 

for you aren't on the same ground I am on, pimp - 

So, stay my lane - 

to remain sane - 

thus blood on my knuckles, can't be blamed. 



Come and Go

Who will come, who will go?

only the hands of time will know - 

some may pray - some may stay - 

others may get a code gray - 

but no matter what - 

I now know that in my heart - 

my days are up -

so who ever comes or goes -

it's probably better off that even if I like them -

they shouldn't know 

because even if I like you - 

there's nothing I can do. 




I don't need anyone - 

I never did - 

I proved I didn't need love and respect even as a kid - 

people want me for what they want me for -

That I know - 

I just want to be true, to myself, 

like I've been doing -

but the blisters in my heart - 

keep on oozing. 



Before You Killed Me

Before you killed me - 

I wrote my best song for you - 

not because you deserve it -

but because I simply wanted to. 



The Gun

This gun speaks my only truth -

by my own hand shall I insert - 

the silver tooth. 



Knock Knock 

Knock, knock - 

who's there? 

Me -

Me who? 



Death Stops 









all will knock on death's door, 

because death's appointments stop - nevermore.



Out of Time

A man only has as much worth - 

as he can fit in his back pocket - 

A man only has enough time -

as he can fit on the wrist - 

a man can only truly fit in his own clothes -

who else feet theses socks been on nobody knows - 

in here i don't have time, 

I don't have worth, yet - I still feel more loved by others than I have been in so long. 

I thank them for what they say and they do flatter me - 

if only my dead'nd eyes, 

can see what they see. 



Tribute - Katelyn Nicole Davis

Little angel please be free -

my struggle has been a year since you came to me -

I don't know why and I don't know how -

but you will forever be remembered by me now -

physically where others simply couldn't be - though they wanted to be -

you - came in - reached out - and touched me -

you told me "it's okay" in your sweet little voice, touched my shoulder - and I grabbed your hand -

you told me to "lay down, and please don't stand" -

My mind was where you were once at, and I know you knew it - thinking of going out the same way - the same thing -

even when I knew there were people loved me -

I felt you knew it wasn't their fault that they couldn't be there -

so you came in from the air -

I only knew who you were a month before -

but you knew I knew who you were -

Little Angel - please be free -

and everyone thanks you for what you did for me.



Lord - I was strong but now am weak - I am your angel whose eyes weep - walk with me, not against me there - and wake your other angels to come and find me here.



The Mastery

If you're going to be

dumb -

you gotta' be


Because -

winning and losing -

come from the same place -

of choice. 



The last visitor

I heard the bars slam, then soon after, I heard the guards walk away,

a sound I have heard for the last forty years,

It was a sound I was use to hearing,

Usually I'd play with the scars on my body, until I finally fell asleep,

scars that I got from being locked up inside this place,

In here, I've done bad things, far worse than what put me here to begin with,

I felt a fever for the last two weeks, I sweated constantly every night,

I saw a prison doctor, but I can't blame him for not caring about an old piece of dung like myself,

So, I laid there, coughing, playing with my scars, when suddenly, my breath got shorter!

What's happening? What's going on?

I try to yell out - but I can't - my entire body grew weak!

My head felt a faint - and I felt as if I could feel my heart slowing down,

Then, as I tried with all my might to keep my eyes open,

I saw death, a black shadow of a man, he walked right through the bars as if they weren't even there!

has the moment finally come?

was he finally taking me out of here?

I lived a long life into my seventies, most of it behind bars,

Shall my mind finally be at peace,

where the crying and evil of my soul will cease,

shall my heart beat no longer - and rest,

the sound of life - removed from within my chest,

Shall my eyes see no more,

no more to look and explore,

Shall I forget about it all -

as he takes me to the land of never more,

As a broken evil man, who lived a long life, trapped in a cell, I always thought it was unfair, not unfair for me to be here, but unfair that I lived so long,

Yet, still, I am unprepared to see the end of time in front of me,

Breathing heavy - I open my mouth and watched as he raised his hand and touched my head,

I close my eyes, as he rips my soul from my body,

it's over - I'll never get my life back - it's time for a new journey,

I take my hand and walk with him,

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"You'll see - he answers."

"Death . . . Can I ask you a question? Why did you wait so long to get me. Don't you know I'm a bad guy? The world would of been better off without me along time ago." I said.

He stopped walking, he lowered his head to look at me,

"The reason why I waited so long is because I was simply waiting for you to do it yourself . . . you thought about it every night didn't you? . . . There were even times when you were sure you were going to do it." Death said.

"Yes, every night."

"Well, I waited for you to do it every night and you never did. like most criminals - it's your instinct to preserve yourself even if you are in a cell with no future. I learned that about you - and so I got tired of waiting on something that I knew was never going to happen. " he said.

"You're right. Even though I didn't have any visitors, any future, any real meaning to being alive and I felt the horrible suicidal urges, I still wanted to stay alive." I said.

"You're correct. In the end, I think you did yourself a good thing." He said.

"Why? I asked.

"Because you lived out as long as you could . . . I want you to remember the little happy moments you had, even if you were a bad guy." He answered.

"Why" I asked.

"Because, where you are going . . . there are no happy moments . . . and you will wish you would have lived differently just to have a chance to remember what it felt like to smile." He explained.

And so - we went.  




  You sneaked up on me,

 but this time I was ready - 

Dear Lord.

My savior.

We both can look at one another surprised, like we seen a ghost -


in the end,

I snuck up on you once, 

you snuck up on me the most. 


Beating Heart 

Heart - stay close to yourself -

drift nowhere

in anyone else's care -

for the coloring of your property starts as red

with them -

it will turn black and blue

when you succumb to the realization -

that they ALL

ran out of time

for you. 



The Broken Man 

He lived by himself, friendless

He learned by himself, friendless,

He ate by himself,

He masturbated by himself,

He entertained, by himself,

He gathered friends,

yet still - he were by himself,

He didn't judge - yet thee judged him - 

so -

he again learned by himself,

he again ate by himself,

Only then, he had sex, then soon after, he once again, entertained by himself,

he didn't ask much from his friends, then a small amount of time with them,


as it turned out,

a price far to great - for a man they deemed fit - to be by himself.

God, himself, wants to fix all that is wrong with him,

perhaps, this man will give him the chance, face to face, even before his time,

because after all, convincing a broken man to hold onto his loneliness -

should have been considered a crime.

God, hears the doorbell -

yet, again, a broken man has come to his factory,

you said you could fix him?

So, let's really see.

Only, as you know it, the saddest part being,

the way God would fix him above,

was the same as every human being did below,

throw him to the flames,

cursed by himself once again, 

God, would smile, as big as Autom, 

knowing this broken man he couldn't fix, 

is no longer his problem. 

So , now the man is burning in the trash, forever and ever, 

that fool should of read the fine print, 

from his fixer, 

do what I say, as I say, how I say, why I say it, love me, no mater what, do not question me, judge me, or curse me no matter how many times I force loneliness upon you,  live life for me, me, me, and never live one single second for you! And if you do - ask me for forgiveness for the life you live was never for you! 

- If you do that, only then shall I care! 

Because to the fixer, apparently, it's not possible to still be depressed under his care, 

the man should of stood where he was, planted like a flower, stuck in his loneliness, used and thought of as a fool,  

but the man wanted help - and went to the fixer too soon, breaking the rules, 

and now, the fixer, is angry, and doesn't want to use his tools. 

To the trash you go - little buddy - burn in flames, 

while the fixer, and everyone who left the man alone, will rejoice, 

and say it was him to blame. 

Unfixable, baboon, wouldn't you know, 

turns out he only lived his life, 

to make the flames grow. 




If I lived by a standard of "action, reaction" -

and you told me I have changed -

what does that really say about you?

For the light out -

was always a mirror reflection 

of the light in. 



Flesh Diaries 

One thing I haven't touched on yet

is sex.

Am I proud of my experiences?


To the untrained dame, I may come across as crude,

but for some reason,

even to them they knew the dress code in my room -

was nude.

Is it a shame?

Ask those who entered the game,

and how many times - they came.

So, I don't write too much on sex,

Even though, anyone who knows me, knows I had plenty -

I don't write about it - not because situations very -

but because I simply leave that to the lady,

and her diary.

"Dear God,

I called him your name again, over . . . and over . . .  and over . . . and over again."

I respect women - don't get me wrong -

but those who disrespected me before you came along -

are the true authors of this song. 

My honest being - is living pure and true - 

And you'd be surprised how many women loved me for it -

After all

if there is one thing the ladies of my life had shown me - 

it's that no matter how much they say they love me, 

In the end I've still only really been good for one thing - 

and that's making them write another page -

in my flesh diary. 

I may be toxic for a lot of reasons -

but the bitches I made feel good ain't one of them -

so, spare your time, in handing your lecture for free, 

After all, 

God made you ladies - and this here -

is how you ladies - 

made me. 

I used to not think of it this way -

I used to be nice -

but fucking with my heart over and over -

comes with a price. 

Now, I know my worth, and what I'm really good for -

so, I kindly expect you to know your dress code, 

when you come through the door. 

The bitches already proved that I'm no more than a toy -

self containing toy, until they need it, 

should be left alone, until they need it, 

a doll that should be lied to, fooled with, left alone when they are bored of it, 

until they feel the itch, of their stitch.  

And they know -  that the doll that has always been there for them -

carries the only stick that can scratch it. 

So, don't call me toxic, because I don't buy it -

it's nice to know I have worth 

and the ladies won't deny it. 




Running from a monster who is trying to kill you -

makes you smart

running from someone who needs your help -

makes you -

a monster. 



Simple Man 

You never asked to be saved by anyone-

that's where you succeeded -

All you asked -

was that someone talked to you -

about why it is you thought -

the floor needed a kiss.

That's where we failed. 



Therefore They Didn't 

I'm happy

therefore I am

I'm sad

therefore I am

I'm a bit crazy

Therefore I am

You may ask, . . . "How did you get this way?"

The answer is simple -

I feel in love.



The Struggle 

The bag is there waiting for me every morning -
I slip on the boxing gloves, I warm up, I gear my mindset to go at the bag like if it were another trained opponent -
I first start off light, mixing my punches with power shots, then, light ones, then power, then light -
I start to move my head around, as if I were slipping a shot thrown my way -
my body and my mind and my legs are starting to get in sync as I move around the bag -
then, I hear the bell, round one is done.
I walk to my corner and sip some water - but spit most of it out -
I walk back up to the bag, my hands up, my chin down, lowering my level slightly, waiting for the sound to begin another round -
This time, however -
I begin to attack it with speed, focusing on turning the punches, my body starts to move more -
as the faster and harder I go, the faster and harder I expect the opponent to try to strike back -
my feet are in toe and heel align, I begin to pivot, I start to circle outside my opponents strong side -
I begin to faint, using my whole body to deliver one quick motion, trying to trigger the opponent into throwing something -
I want him to, so I can counter -
then, I begin to bounce on the balls of my feet, back and forth, back and forth, thinking of my next set up -
sometimes, my opponent throws a strike in the middle of my thinking, and forces me to move out the way -
which I don't mind!
Because, every time I dip, slip, or roll, it gives me an improvisation to counter!
So, every time he tried to hit me - it kind of made my job easier -
then, the sound, another round has ended.
This time, I can feel a bit winded as I walk to the corner, not so much winded as I'm tired (no way)
but winded as if my body is beginning to understand it's no longer in a still place.
I drink water, get ready for the sound of another round -
ding, it's time to go!
This time, In my mind, I believe I can be much faster, much more efficient with my technique -
so, I focus on both the speed and the power -
I sometimes fight on the outside, setting him up for a leaping left hand, as I roll under his left hook -
I begin to set him up further, jabbing to the body, twice, then once to the head, changing angles -
using my punch to sometimes slice through his guard, when working his body, using my hands to peel his glove away from his face, and counter with a hook to the head!
The round is done - it is now work, and not fun.
I spit out the water, I get ready to hear the ding sound once more!
It's time to go! Where can I hit this man - his defense I'll explore -
watch out, he's throwing a right straight - I pull counter!
I begin to parry his jab and slide a punch in -
he's trying to work me up close, I shoulder roll, and counter with an upper -
I get my distance, holding my ground, he comes in again -
so, I glue the gloves to my temples, turn him around and land some shots -
then I reset!
I do the same things as I was doing earlier - only this time, I notice a grunt coming out every time I try to land a hard shot -
ahh - ahh- ahh -
my hands fly, I'm simply thinking and reacting - it's this way all the way for nine more rounds!
By the time the ninth round ends, usually, I'd take my gloves off, sit down, and drink water - and call it a day.
At this point, my body is covered in sweat, my heart races, there becomes a few times where you know you exerted yourself to a certain degree, but never in my mind did I allow the thought of quitting to enter - never!
Today - however, before I even started, I decided to go for twelve rounds -
So, after I heard the bell, to keep going after the ninth, that's exactly what I did -
I put it in my mind that these last three rounds I'll be faster, stronger, I won't push the bag with my punches -
I'll snap them to and back, my body will move even more efficient, I'll still see the bag as an opponent in front of me! I'm down not on points, but perhaps on damage, and I need these last three to win!
So, that's exactly what I try to do, for three more rounds!
Then . . . the last bell has sounded.
I slip off the gloves, I breathe in through the small holes, HOLD, then out through the big one,
I sit down -
my t-shirt is drenched, I can feel the over exerted muscles beginning to feel inflamed.
I feel proud of the fact that I was able to have the cardio vascular system trained enough to last twelve rounds -
then reality kind of sets in . . .
As the fight has ended, and the high of the workout begins to fade, as I sit there, sweating on the chair.

Perhaps, the only real reason I was able to do it that realistically -
is maybe because for about an hour . . . I was able to shut off reality, and visualize the bag as a living breathing man-
and it's that moment, where I realize . . . perhaps . . . to be a great fighter . . .
you have to be crazy . . .

Because I fractured my wrist during this . . .
and though the bag was never a real threat to me, and never would be . . .
But, for an hour, my mind saw it as one -
and was willing to do whatever it took to win.
I beat it's ass.




Death has made his way into our loving family -

and at this point -

we consider he'

like a close family member.

Or - perhaps the true freeholder,

to in which -

when our rent is due

it is all of us that shall somehow pay he'

and be added to the queue -

one, by two. 




I shall burneth  - 

and I'm ready

f'r heaven isn't ready  -

f'r someone of mine own spirit.

f'r heaven is a mirr'r of the w'rld -

and neith'r

wast ready f'r me.





You kicked my bucket from under me -

Before I had the chance to kick my own -

from there

everyone else saw,

what you wanted after all -

just another ornament on your tree -

lying still, no emotions or feelings -

simply hanging

to enhance the beauty

of your tree. 




I looked at her as she cried near the river -

She was depressed in every way, thoughts of suicide, thoughts of homicide, thoughts of all despair -

So, I pressed my feet onto the soil, small tree branches cracked from me stepping onto them -

I walked up to her, I kneeled, I asked her what was wrong?

She uncovered her hands from her face, she looked up at me, a tear fell from her left eye, then her right -

she closed her eyes again, and began to cry some more -

I touched her right shoulder gently as I brushed her hair to the side -

again, I asked her what's wrong?

She took a deep breath in . . . then out . . .

she looked at me . . . 

 and uttered the words 




Back Words

.υoγ ɘvɒɘl γɒm ɘʇil - γɒw ɘʜɈ ƨi ƨiʜɈ ɿoʇ
- Ɉ'nɒɔ υoγ ʇi γlno ɘm bɒɘɿ




Oh -

mine own stomach hurts -

and I feeleth liketh throwing up -

the problem is -

I trusteth not anyone to holdeth the cuppeth -

I spilleth mine own guts -

all ov'r the flo'r -

timeth to crisp mine own mess -

and did shut the doth'r.




I sat there alone, on a red chair, red from the blood of the men who earlier sat there,

I wondered when my time would come, when will death whisper his name into my ear,

the sweat on my forehead dripped, dripped, and dripped some more,

my attention went from left, to right, I looked in the center at the dark brown door,

the handle twisted, my heart pumped harder than it ever had before,

My tied hands clenched its fingers together, my eyes wide, behind the door, I feared what it may bore,

the door slightly opened, a quiver in my body began,

my head turned to the side but my eyes stood still, as the door opened,

behind the door, what was it, what did I see?

What was it that tied men up, tortured them, leaving their blood behind on the chair before me?

The door opened enough, that the end of the knob slapped the other side of the wall,

there before me, was a man, who stood ten feet tall,

he slowly walked to me, under the chair I hid my feet,

the sweat on my forehead dripped, dripped, and dripped more,

in front of this man who stood in front of me, ten foot tall,

he wore black, from shoulder to toe, his face was darkened too, with only his red eyes a glow,

He walked to me, slowly and steady,

he lift his finger and asked if I was ready?

No! I shouted! Not me - not now!

It was at this point I knew he was ready to take me to hell -

No! I begged, I cried and shivered,

my bottom lip quivered,

he touched my head, with his giant fingers, I feared for my life


It was at that moment . . .

I heard the director . . .

yell "Cut!" 



Camera - City 

I lived on Alcatraz,

couldn't go out and do anything without being recorded,

this is especially troubling, though most were glad,

because everything I wanted to do,

was bad,

from stomping someone to the ground,

or making prostitutes make that sweet, sweet, sound,

camera-city is in effect,

and my spirit -

is no longer erect. 




Those who walk in a straight line -

will always be forced to stop and change direction -

for life is not a line -

it is a circle.



Nothing Left 

These days are becoming more expensive -

and soon

I'll run out of money. 




Judge not the display of a mortal -

for they were born, without a choice.

Judge only the display of their character -

because some are truly grisly. 

deduce not their smile - 

instead, deduce what's behind their eyes. 

Through those two-windows, is where the true dragon lies. 



To Mephistopheles

Dear Mephistopheles,

Stop polluting -

we are starting to think it's normal -





Some awake -

A' gasping -

for death.



My Only True Regret in Life

Was that I didn't hurt someone who had it coming -

this was both in respect of my mother -

to in which when I was going to fight him,

she stepped in the middle and stopped me -

but, on this day, I wish I would have just thrown all that to the side

because I think beating the shit out of him, perhaps, even killing him -

would have made her happy.

This is the only time I didn't spring to action the way I normally do -

and for that, it is my one true regret in life. 



Me, My needle, and my Ink.

I don't have a lot of tattoos from what I call 'stamp shops'

which is a tattoo shop -

no disrespect, but I prefer just Me, My needle, and my Ink -

No gun, no conversation,

just brutal art on my body -

done by my own hand - 

I ain't trying to get out quick -

because single needle prison style,

is for those who have time for it. 




Everyone needs someone to show them the way,

the balls I have and what I am willing to do,

will change night into day.

Where as a failure I was not born -

the courage it took will no longer be torn -

they asked why,

I asked , why didn't you figure it out.

A cancer in the brain, stemmed, but only with no detection -

where the brain cools itself off -

with no hesitation.

This is my story -

this is who I am -

you know it true -

as I died by my own hand.




If satisfaction comes from what you have -

then you will never need anything else.

The trick is to strap that thought on your brain, as much as you can. 



The Glove

I was training for a third time on this day -

I started sweating early on and often and by the seventh round I got light-headed, something told me to take a rest -

So, I took my glove off to drink water . . . then, I thought, ''No, I'm going to jump back in when the minute rest ends'' -

So, I looked all around for my glove - but I couldn't find it -

So, I thought, okay, maybe something is telling me to take the rest after all

So, I sat down on a chair, drank my water, let the sweat come out, got my breathing under control

about five minutes later when I was ready to go back in -

I looked down, and my glove was right fucking there, under that chair. 




I moved with urgent haste

into a familiar place -

A place I used to feel certain

is now backbreaking, and effortful -

once I entered,

I had to fight to reach for dephlogisticated air -

because of my neglect and separation

shall I pay the price of being an unknown -

an unknown to a sport I used to excel. 



Imagine Your Brain - Hated Itself. 

Cancer, though strong, and deadly - 

is no match 

for a man whose seemingly healthy brain-

wishes to kill itself.

Depression, can strike anyone into damning mental health - 

sometimes with no cure -

imagine being able to love everyone else, except whose in the mirror -

when the soul is sick - so goes the mind -

will you give compassion?


are you not of that kind.

Until we learn that the brain also has emotions -

just like the heart -

I'm afraid many of us will end -

before we start. 




I spoke many different languages -

all were in English. 




The man who carries a big stick -

will never quite be as strong -

as the man who was forced to carry a small one. 



Judge Me Not

You edit me not -

for I have only one editor

for he is not you -

and you . . . 

should feel lucky. 



Fool's Love

You were to my eye ' a beautiful sunlight -

O', How I thought I too could be a ray, just as bright -

I fell, deep, and hard, in love's pit -

in there, I stood alone, I couldn't find you -

though, I often had no problem -

finding your spit. 




 Talk to me now, while we are both alive,
it may quite possibly be the only time,
on the only occasion that Death whispers in both our ears, that humbling sound,
where you may go up, and I may go down. 



Happy Mother's Day

Though your body is resting in a casket as it lay -

I want to say Happy Mother's Day -

your spirit will always be with me -

The thoughts of you no longer having to worry and being free -

Makes me smile, on a day like today -

Though, I wish you were still here, to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to joke with -

The love and respect I had for you is not a myth -

Because everyday I think of you - therefor everyday I miss you -

I'll pay respect to your body as I wish the stone above you a happy Mother's Day -

Though, I know your spirit is with the Lord -

 I often times feel you looking in on me still -

It was a true honor to know you -

will we meet again, I wonder?

I'm just glad that there are days like today, meant for you -

My Mother. 




In life we have titles that surpass any paid position-

some become mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, brothers and sisters -

along with many other titles that we may bear,

like any other job, however, some are good at what they do , and some deserve to get fired,

the tragic part of our life as it is today, is that some, choose to hold no responsibility or weight to their title,

there are some kids out there, who will never know what it's like to grow with their natural birth parents -

or, there are mothers and fathers, or brothers and sisters who act as a bad influence -

which, can be most tragic to the mind, and body, if someone else doesn't step forward and aid the child in knowing love, emotional nourishment, and teach them 'how to learn' as life goes on -

both my Mother, and Father, deserve respect, because they both continued to learn as their life went on -

I judge them not harshly - but in the most respectful way you can judge your parent - as a person -

they were both willing to look at their mistakes, and admit, learn, grow and adapt from them,

In my younger years, I've made plenty of mistakes and I still do - as sometimes an immoral person - sometimes a violent person - sometimes just an idiot -

watching the both of them take on the duties of being a parent, and finding a way to excel at it, while struggling with their own demons - is quite motivating - motivating because I know that as I write this, I . . . myself . . . am not that strong.

Perhaps not yet - or perhaps not ever. But at least I know where I truly come from - as a person who makes mistakes.

I saw the example right infront of me of two people who were willing to adapt and learn as their life went on -

For those who paid attention - there was and is plenty you can learn from my parents.

My Mother didn't shame her title, and as time past, my Father morphed, and learned, what his title meant,

The both of them earned respect not because they were perfect, but because they spent everyday trying to wrestle with their own imperfections, and teach themselves how to navigate around it, to make themselves stronger, smarter, wiser.

I was lucky to see that first hand - and realize now - as I'm older - 

that the title you are given in life -

is only worth anything -

if you realize it's what you do with it -

For those that fail - they think once you became a mother or father, then the job is done -

for those that make a difference, they realized that once given the title -

your job is not done -

it is simply beginning. 



Alone in the "Dark" 

In the dark I await for no one -

because in the light -

no one awaited for me.   




Love -

If you are an unauthentic person - 

so shall be the love you give to someone - 

for the fraudulent nature of your being - 

is simply constructed through a counterfeit version. 

The saddest part - 

is that counterfeited love, is now surprising the actual thing. 



Tick Tock. 

The World moved without you, and will continue to do so after you lay still, never to return to a standing position, never to return a breath in your lung. The question is - now - at this very moment - what do you want to do with your life? Do you want it to end? Or, do you want it to begin? Where are you going to take the beating of your heart to? Will you lead it to disaster - or will you lead it to bliss?  All answers rest -  in your movement. 




A man without a face -
can no longer blame his problems on his race -
A man without a tongue -
shall no longer worry of their words, sticking onto anyone -
A man with no feet -
Can only wheel himself along the street -
A man with no eyes -
lives in a world of constant surprise -
A man with no brain -
can never fully expect to win at the game -
a man with no hunger -
will die alongside the food of his brother -
a man who can't hear -
shall always expect to watch his rear -
A man with no hands -
shall worry not of his fingers burning on the pots and pans -
But a man born perfect - except lacking the ability to feel shame -
perhaps - from the list above - might be the only one who could truly be considered lame.



From Dusk Till Dawn 

At night I stand -

with a cigarette in my hand -
the weight of my body pressed down on the artificial turf -
I look up at the sky - to see the moon stalking the Earth -
stars seem randomly scattered through the darkened space up above -
I wonder if the moon and the sun are in love -
or are they too different - with two different purposes -
made to offer two different services -
both could consider being the parents to Earth -
one providing warmth and light -
the other providing a dim hope of light, to help navigate you through a darkened time-
like our Mother and Father - if you stay out there long enough -
visible to only those who were born without a shut-eye -
one day, you will see the both of them there, looking down upon you, at the same time -
in the sky.



 Hey, where are YOU at?

I think of suicide, not because of the injustice that the Lord has bestowed -- but more because of the creatures he left to rule the earth.  At least when I think of the Lord - I can open my mind to imagination and endless impossibilities. When I think of people - for the most part - I'm thinking of an animal that has taught itself to be too stupid to save its own kind -- yet blame the Lord on why he lets it happen.

I dare ask that specie, what have YOU truly done to help the broken soul of your fellowmen?  The problem had exist for years, and the smartest creature on the planet thinks a pill will help cure what the soul is filling?  Emotional problems to the soul can not be undone by a pill. It takes emotional fulfillment to do that. Some people get that from God - when they double down and learn, feel, believe what is in the word. 

 Others -- get their emotional fulfillment in other ways. Some, even find fulfillment in the destruction of their fellowman.  So, to you, I ask these questions. What have you done to help your fellowmen overcome what you consider God's injustices? 

Depression is the ignition to all man's disastrous thoughts. It is usually brought upon because of the lack of compassion shown from one human to the next. Even if that compassion is simply lack thereof on yourself.  You don't judge yourself on not being worthy enough for an ape - you judge yourself on not being worthy enough, compared only side by side to your fellowman. 

Lack thereof love, compassion, understanding, friendship, tolerance, acceptance, achievement.  As the world turns -- you spin among your fellowmen and you learn to indeed hate things about yourself from them. The problem is, the majority of what people hate about themselves is almost never truly reflective on reality - or it is something that can easily be changed or fixed or altered - even most times as simple as just letting more life solve itself.  Yet - man wants to kill off his own existence - based on a temporary issue.    

If you are an atheist, self-loathe is probably even more unbarring.  Because you should consider yourself lucky enough to be part of the smartest dominant specie.  Your place on earth is already set and secured as such.  Yet, you can't seem to get a strong handle and grasp on what can't be scientifically explained. That is the damaging to your soul and your emotional feelings. 

Why does a person cry - without being physically hurt?  That must be a struggle for someone who thinks a soul doesn't exist.  

Before you dare ask where is God - ask yourself -- are you someone who films disaster and does nothing? If you are someone who argues your points, and tries to make your fellow-man seem as if they are a fool -- instead of simply trying to educate them? Do you criticize -- more than teach? Do you judge -- faster than you learn?  Do you offer unconditional love and respect towards everyone and everything? Do you belittle, put down your fellow-man?  Depression can be an everlasting problem.  Like a germ - that bounces from one human to the next.  Perhaps - someone who learned to self-hate themselves - just couldn't bare letting you go on happy with a smile through life - so getting you to loathe yourself as well becomes an emotional fulfillment - to them.  

The problem is - if you are an atheist - non of that should ever really truly effect you. If you can surely stay away from the fiction of the Bible - then surely you can't allow yourself to believe the lies other people tell you or even what you will tell yourself.  All beliefs are fact based.  Right? 

  You can call a man a "frog" a million times a day - to in which point would he begin to believe it?  The answer to an atheist would be never.  Yet - when I pose the question - how many broken relationships does it take for you to believe your unlovable? How many failures does it take for you to think of your life as something that is measured on achievement?  How many times have you yourself called yourself worthless -- before you ended up believing it? 

How many times does your soul have to take a hit - before you alter your ways?

 Then, you become a judge of not only yourself, but a judge of other people around you.  You begin to argue or dismiss what you think is unattainable for yourself -- by trying to force others to believe it's unattainable for them.  If you are someone who wishes for other's failure, or, is jealous of other people's achievements -- then you my friend are a contributing factor to the ugliness of the world -- not the Lord.  You probably even blindly walked right into the hands of the Devil without even knowing it -- (yes, even if you're an atheist ;) 

Men, always look to blame the Lord for standing and watching -- as we burn down ourselves in confusion we create. Like a spoiled child blaming a parent. A parent who had already put forth the teachings that could possibly help guide your life through the storm of uncertainty. 

 However, even with that said . . . 

I think of suicide -- 

not because of what the Lord "has not" done --
I think of suicide --

because of what I myself, along with my fellowmen, 

"should have known better not to do." 




Since my early twenties, I have always wanted to simply recount all the situations and unusual (or usual to us) moments that I've seen outside the front window to my house. I figure since I'm not getting any younger - perhaps now would be that time to do so.  I'm not going to put them in any specific order - so I'll simply write down as I remember. Okay, here we go.
 All I've seen - all are true - none of it is fiction.

looking through the window from inside the living room - I can see the bus stop that takes people down first street, very clearly. At the bus stop, a woman dropped her pants, and panties, all the way down - just to put a fresh tampon in.

That very same bus stop - my mother had to tell the ambulance that an elder gentleman - had died. He was waiting for the bus, all by himself. We noticed that he wasn't moving any longer. When he was checked out - his death was confirmed. 

My girlfriend, mother, and I - saw a bald woman with a bandanna on wrapped around her head.  It only covered the forehead and around the back - it didn't cover the top of her head.  She was walking around - that bandanna was the only thing she had on - right after she stripped, in front of my house.

I saw about four bums, that I can remember, taking a shit in the field that's right in front of my house. One of them even tried to wipe their butt- on my neighbors fence.

I saw this skinny, Mexican, older gentlemen, walking his bike. He appeared to have gone to the liquor store that's near my house.  As he was walking - I saw a gang walk up to him - smacked him in the face and knocked him out. They ran of with his bike and yelled "Thank you!" The man woke up and left the bag from the store on the ground as he stumbled away. My father and I,  went to go look at what was inside of the bag . . . and it was cat food.

I saw this man who got stabbed in the neck come and ask my mother for help. He was bleeding - so, my mother called 9 11, and the ambulance came. However - right before the ambulance came - the guy took off.
At the bus stop, I saw a homeless girl, dirty dancing, shaking her ass and grinding on a homeless guy.

I saw a guy running for his life being chased by about four other male attackers. They pretty much beat the shit out of him, and left him on the street where they stomped him on the head. Traffic stopped, because the man who got jumped was in the middle of the road. Then, a white car stopped, this woman helped the beaten man into the car, while a man from another car behind them got out and started jawing at the gang. The gang took off. The car the beaten guy was in, stopped in front of my house. The beaten guy grabbed a machete from it. He got out of the car and started trying to find the people who just jumped him.

We used to see a man spinning as he walked. He would walk in a straight line - but he would do so by spinning.

I saw a man on a wheelchair, stop on the sidewalk, near the bus stop. He didn't move and was there for about ten minutes. I told my family - I bet you he's dead.  So, I walked over to see if he was all right. I said, "excuse me sir? Sir?" He didn't respond. I looked at his stomach and didn't see him breathing. Just as I thought "Yep - probably dead", the guy raised his head up quickly, and looked at me!  He was asleep. Was pretty bizarre. Like a zombie. 

I've seen countless amount of prostitutes with their ass all out. Besides traffic going down first street, crack heads, homeless, and prostitutes, I would say is the main thing you see on a daily basis, when you simply look outside my front window.

I saw a car - drive up an extension cord tied to a power line in the ally. Their car flipped over. I ran to see if the guy was alright.  After he jumped out the window he said he, "was okay."

I've seen the cops pull over I don't know how many people. The warning is that I can see the flashing red and blue lights coming through the window at night. That's how I know the po po is right outside. 

For a while, on that field, in front of my house, a taco truck opened up. This brought on so much traffic in an area where there really isn't any parking to begin with. Because of that - I saw a countless amount of cars parking up in front blocking our drive way. Cars accidentally hitting my neighbors car - or cars accidentally hitting each others cars. We used to have to put cones out, every night, just to try to get people to not park in front of the driveway. They ran over the cones too.

In that field, I saw cars doing donuts. This is a dirt field - so you can imagine the dirt that built up and was sent our way.
Now that I think about it - now and then you would witness little small tornadoes in that dirt field. Which I always thought looked cool.

One time, I saw a man waiting at the bus stop - then suddenly some SUV's pulled over behind him! A group of police officers got out of those SUV's and told him to put his hands behind his back. It appeared to be a sting of some sort.

Believe it or not - even though we are living deep in the city - we used to see a man riding a horse down the sidewalk at night. Full grown horse - just walking along the sidewalk. like in the western days.  I used to be able to hear the clunk of his steps - very loudly.  One time I was sitting in the living room at night with the windows blocked by drapes.  I heard a strange sound outside.  I peeked outside the window and saw the horse right outside.  Was actually pretty freaky. 

I'm not sure - But I believe I may have seen a woman get snatched up, late at night.

So, for now, that's all I can remember. This is all stuff I saw, with my own two eyes, simply being in my living room looking outside. If I can see that through the small square - which is never a bore- then you can imagine what I see , when I walk out the front door. 



Hey, so called smart people - I'm standing with the idiots on this one.  

If "God" was people's creation to begin with - and it's what makes people feel comfortable or try to have an understanding on not only the past but the forward of life - then why are so many people against it?

If it's just a story . . . then why not read it? In the Bible it says to not believe the word of mouth from anyone - and is indeed implying for you to read it for yourself.  As messages can and often do get perverted from word of mouth. That goes for preachers as well. I can't tell you how many opinion based preachers there are now a days. like, uh "God, Damn America?" The simplest and best solution was always pick one up - and read - if you want to know what's inside. I want to read a Stephen King book and have discussion about it - guess what - I gotta read the book to know what's in it. Now a days I can even hear the audible version. 

To read the subject of question is  simply to have a better understanding of what you are against. It's like being a book critic who never read the finished manuscript. So, besides the "fairytale, can't or doesn't make sense" arguments, which can go for days - I'd say the more serious and realistic argument against it that people take religion "too seriously" - and that it can cause harm.

Perhaps, but in the Bible it says "thou shalt not kill", which means obviously the people who kill solely "over" the Bible probably have as much understanding of it as the person who never read it to begin with. I can use the same argument over Marilyn Manson, some music, and video games. Even some other books for that matter.

The link between school shooters who play violent video games is there, the link between school shooters who watch violent movies and listen to violent music is there. Does that mean as a rational adult you should instantly stay away from those artist too because some how some way the material in it influenced them to kill another human being?  Or, perhaps, should you listen to it and if it's not your cup of tea just simply let it be? The point is - you listened to it - you heard it - you know you didn't like it. I read the Quran, and studied Agent Egypt. I even read the Bible from a comic book version,  to King James version, and others. If you look at my book collection, it's filled with different type of Bibles.  I still don't have a complete understanding of everything either. I understand to understand it is something that takes people years if not a life time.  Which is what the book was meant to be as religion is one's own personal journey. 

 Yet - You got guys like Bill Maher, who probably never took time to sit and read what he's trying to argue to a group of people about. There are people out there who don't even understand what the hell the "Old and New testament" is - which shows you how much they ever dabbled into the actual reading of the Bible.

Guys like Bill Maher have an opinion, and that's great, but no one ever challenges him if he's ever even read what he wants destroyed? Usually, he picks out the bad stories he can link to it - the same way the news would link "Marilyn Manson" or the video game "Doom" to the Columbine High School Shooting. Hardly, ever, from an atheist would you ever hear a congratulations from the millions of stories out there of people doing good because of their conviction. Even just a ''well, that's a good thing then for them. I'm glad they found something.''

As far as harm, there are also other examples of people who would have killed someone - if it "weren't" for their devotion and belief in the Holy Spirit. There are also people who chose not to do something that from the human beings perspective of survival would seem kind of harmless. Like, such as have sex with someone who they trust to get a favor in return.

I've talked to a lot of women in my life - and there are those who tell me they did a sexual favor and there are those who say they would never do one. The ones who say they did are thinking about their own survival and usually only judge it off of that moment in time when they needed it something. 

 So, they were saying "I had to do what I had to do".  The other women, who sometimes found themselves in similar situations, said they would never do it and looked hard for another alternative. The biggest difference between the two (because they all claimed to be religious) I'd say is the idea of "feeling" like you are doing something wrong . . . which I always felt to be an interesting side effect to people who believe "strongly" in the Holy Spirit. 

 As if a parent is going to catch you, in the end. May sound funny - and stupid to some people - but that conviction was there and I could see a difference from those who felt strongly about it to those who didn't.

Perverting a message - yes it happens. There are people who pervert the entire idea of the Bible to begin with. There are people who walk around calling themselves Jesus Christ, or, pervert what's written to fit their needs. However, there are even non believers who do that shit too. For example, why did you kill them? "The Dog was telling me to do it".

So, in life, there are simply all types and all groups of people. What won't be denied is that there are a lot of people who feel strongly on ''doing the right thing'' based only on a conviction they have that there is a Holy spirit. Are there no immoral people who changed their life based on their religion? Of course there are. I don't find anything wrong with that.  Just like I don't call issue with people who say 'music saved my life'. 

 Well, fuck, music didn't save shit. If you wanted to kill yourself, music wasn't going to grab your hand and stop you. Same way with people who are "saved" by religion - it's just something that they feel strongly about and they learn about. It calms those type of people down when their life gets hectic. Again, nothing wrong with that.

There are also those group of people who have changed their life and started doing 'better', in terms of how they interact with their fellow-man who formed a deeper belief in their faith.  For example at the church "The Well",  a man got up to talk to everyone and said that if we had met him years ago nobody would like him and he probably would of punched someone.  Some people, who are the strongest believers today, started out not believing in shit and would have never thought in a million years they would have felt their faith the way they do.  Not being so argumentative and learning to turn the other cheek - is probably not a bad thing.  

 For the most part the country was founded on by people who at least had "an idea" of religion, if not devoted - some simply studied it - which is more than I can truly say about some people today. Were they all "idiots" - who believed in fairy tales?  Well, if you think you're smarter than the people who laid the pipes down for what would become the strongest country on earth then I guess yes - you're free to call them an idiot. Freedom they provided for you, by the way. Even if they were just 'misinformed' and believed in a fairytale - or even to devote their "time" in studying a fairytale (they were busy men you know) maybe that open-minded approached actually helped them all believe in another fairytale . . . the United States of America.

I always thought it was interesting that our money had "In God We Trust" on it. It's interesting because that paper is probably the most passed around paper to its citizens on a day-to-day basis. Just the idea of doing that and why you would think it could be a valuable message to put on something you know all of your citizens will eventually see - is an interesting idea and thought.

Other countries similar to us - are similar to us - if you know what I mean.

However, I talked to one person who was from a really poor country, and lived a poor life. She would have to get up every twelve o'clock in the morning, just to filll a bucket up with water. They ate, what was planted at their house, and their house looked like what I would consider a broken down concrete building.

She was very thin - she was also very alone most of the time. She had a mother who would nag her and in many ways make fun her. Her own mother would call her worthless.  Even though, she gets up and fills that bucket in the morning for her family.  Her father died years ago and she felt very close to him.   She told me that she was very depressed - and that she thought about taking her own life. A person in that situation you probably can't blame them. So, I did what I can do and used technology to talk to her, and to try to comfort her.  Lot of times we did talk about religion and her hopes and her dreams. 

Then, she said something to me that I'll never forget. She said the only reason why she continues is because she knows "God wants her to", and that she knows that there is a promise waiting for her after this -even if it was just a simple sweet thought of being reunited with her father.  If she just continues to do the right thing, feel up that bucket, even for someone who is unappreciative of it.

That my friend - is an example never brought up by atheist of someone taking religion "too seriously". Is it a good thing or a bad thing that your fellow human being decides not to take their own life - because they believe in a "fairytale?"

In a way, that is the sweet part of religion - it's why even if I were an atheist I'd think if "God" is a "man made" invention, then it's why he was invented to begin with. To give some people hope. Something to look forward to, even when they are all by themselves in a situation to in which they may never get out of.  Sometimes, we need strength that us as people just can't seem to offer each other. Perhaps - it's why the strongest nation on earth put it on its' money. To give people hope that all things are possible. To help put strength in the mind and soul!

If your argument is about the cause of harm - perhaps a manuscript that you consider a fairy tale to begin with shouldn't be the source of something you want to get rid of. Perhaps, those who worry about causing harm should look at themselves in the mirror and ask "have they been as positive of a help and influence to their fellow-man as they possibly can?"

What atheist would call an illusion, is having more impact in saving that young woman who probably still lives there today (2019) then her fellow-man.  And  it's simply through her conviction. The people that are supposed to be supportive of her aren't.  If Guys like Bill had their wish - she would be empty on hope once again.  And that bucket won't be getting filled with water any longer.  

So, to me, that's all I need to know . . . in a world where I really don't know shit. 



Miss Emily Dickinson

My Dear Emily,

it's truly amazing what you had done with your time while you were alive -

it's amazing that you were alone in a room for most of it -

you spoke to others, but usually only from within your room -- and out your door -

They called you a recluse, perhaps that's what you were,

you wrote, wrote, and wrote some more,

like myself, you were criticized by your use of grammar - quite possibly by people with no imagination-

and only I understand that if it's important to you, or, a word you want to make the point - you might break the rules and use a capitalization - 

I hear that you wrote around what? -- eighteen hundred poems?

Like me - you only had a few published - but you kept on writing no matter what -

That's truly amazing. Good Job. I'm proud of you.

The thing I don't understand -- and what I'm sure others who know you may not even wonder -

is if you spent all your time in the room, by yourself . . .

then how can we possibly think we know what you were truly up to in there?

For all we know - you could have put on shows for dolls -

you could have had tea parties with your imaginary friends -

You could have heard the cries and worries from some of your father's whig party friends,

you could have danced on your bed -

you could have looked out the window while writing your beautiful poetry with your finger on that window on a cold frosty night -

you could have combed your hair a thousand times a day just for the hell of it -

maybe you sat there like a t.u.l.i.p - knowing that if you didn't engage with anyone, no one can stop God from lending you his grace, 

maybe you tried to figure out the world - by studying its plants -

you could have hated civilization or had at least had a distrust for everyone around you -

which would explain why you couldn't find comfort being in any other space other than your own -

or -- perhaps -- you could have distrusted your own thoughts - and maybe you were protecting them - from you?

My point is - you lived your life a lot like how I am living mine -

alone, in a room -

and for someone who has been alone in a room for as long as I have been -

I gotta tell you - people don't know half of what goes on in there.

Thank you for your poetry - but I would have loved to see what really went on -

while you were alone, in your room.

I was born in the world later than you were, sadly -

so, I never really would have gotten the chance to ever see you -

however - since you are a free spirit -

I do invite you to look and see -

what being alone in the room -

has done to me. 


Copyright 2023 Nicholas Camarena. Eclipse Eye Productions
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