Now, if you think I am the only writer or poet of my kind in this New Age Millennium, you are mistaken

There is me that is, Sammy Kendricks and my crew of reject ragtag writers extraordinaire who are going to change this world

First on the roster we have Haden Zanders, a poet who tackles topics from a humorous but  intelligent and eloquent way

Then there's Zach Nichols my personal shaman, he's into paganism, mysticism, alchemy and spirituality as a whole
His writing is out of this world, literally and add to it he's a musician who is single handedly innovating the neo tribal music genre

Next In Derek Neman, a poet and musican close to my heart, a bit younger than the rest of us but still hold his own
He is loving, caring and has a strong spirit that I know will take him wherever he goes
His words can make mountains weep

Then there are Kaspar and Otto
Kaspar is a poet of the romantic variety, hopelessly devoted to love
Otto is a writer who can sum up any topic in a matter of a few lines
But powerful lines they be
Short, sweet and to the point

Up next is my good friend Jeeves, Jeeves isn't his real name
His real name is Nat but that was too boring so we all call him Jeeves
He is one of the mad ones, stricken with a severe case of wanderlust and wonderment
He served in the navy for three years
Now he's back and writes of his travels and his loves and losses
He paint, plays bass and philosophizes the human condition

Of course how could I forget Pete, a clean cut good 'ol boy
Always down to meet woman and have a drink and make a night out of a day
He writes rhymes like I've never seen
So vibrant and addicting

We all have that friend we **** heads with and Sonny is that friend for me
We're opposites in every sense of the word
You all know me so imagine the reverse
But his writing is political, realistic, stoic, emotional and completely him
I love him to death, there will come a day where we throw down

Now finally last but not least
You know him
You love him
You hate him
It's the Don Juan of Dumont
The one and only
Quincy Valero
His writing reads as fast as he lives
A mile a minute
Girls, cars, drugs, food, parties
Excess and excitement
Memories and mistakes
Highs and lows
Yes

But of course we have other non writing friends
Zeik Adams my engineering friend whos gonna be rich someday
Nyal Jensen our dancing friend who always brings it to the floor in every club we hit
Ahio Rikashi our best bud from the far east, romantic and deep
Kyle Filmore my trippy drummer
And Mike Neman, Derek's younger brother and one of my closest friends

We've all shared pain and laughter
Trips, drunken evenings
Road trips, meals
Quarrels and misunderstandings
But we all care about each other
And all of our writing and our goal to always be there to check the pulse of this world
Hell, even start it up when it wains off every now and then
We're here to give this generation a kick start
A reminder of what we can and will do
We can revitalize our world with knowledge, understanding and unity
We are the pulse generation

You took it all away from me. The girl I mean to be. You took the faith I loved so and my poetry. You broke my heart and you broke my spirit, however a metaporhosis you will see Robert Littlejohn and Michael Czech when this ugly duckling becomes a beautiful swan once more with a dazzing smile, sparking eyes, but my heart no man will get because I am sick and tired of cheaters and Peter Pans. I am tired catertering to ***** ******* mama's boys who live their impossible dreams I want to be a musican or I want to be a poet when neither one of you have the skill to be. I  am content to be solitude and with my computer by side because I am a real poet and writer and this is my chosen life.

Integrating these strange moments
I wish that I could forget,
Containing withheld restlessness...
A world eternally upset.

While pressed by the spinning silence
Against this cold, graffitied wall,
As here within Oblivion
My consciousness begins to fall.

For these resounding vibrations
Now rip infinity in two,
Birthing an illumination
Bringing forth Inspiration's view.

This invading tempo climbs,
Sounds illustrating our differences
Musical hues dancing in eyes,
As aberrant colors produce sighs.


In the midst of rhythmic chaos
This numbness thoroughly surrounds,
For those trapped within Musican's ethos
There is no escape to be found.