The Fire

I stand in the fire and scream.

Yelling at the top of my lungs.

It’s in my heart.

You see it in my eyes.

That’s the fire inside me

And I will let it burn.

My flame cannot be put out.

Let someone tell me otherwise

And my fire will burn their doubt.

Is it good luck?

No, I say it’s my desire.

Sitting in the eye of the storm

Not even the Mayan’s could predict.

So I celebrate my mistakes.

They make me stronger.

Toughen up the skin,

Burning off the old

And it is in with the new.

I let my fire burn

And like the phoenix,

I rise from the ashes born anew.

Phoenix-fire-bird

Nervous Courtship

Should I stop by and buy flowers, hi.

I was in the neighborhood, hi.

       Let me start over please lady.

       I am not some creepy shady.

       I mean, can we go out maybe?

       So can I call you my baby?

       I’ve been thinking of you daily

       And it’s been driving me crazy.

       So many thoughts of you lately.

       It has made my body so achy.

Give me time to show you the sky.

You’ll see that I’m not a bad guy.

The Charge

Charging over the hill in their blues,

Up the beach and over the barricade.

Bayonets piercing the hearts

Of confederate uniforms old guard.

The proud men of the 54th Massachusetts.

The American flag pushes forward into battle.

Stars and stripes moving forward with change,.

But Col. Robert Shaw, above his men,

Falling opposite the assaulting charge

With his fading voice signaling to advance.

More than a war cry,

But a cry for freedom.

Assaulting Fort Wagner to the sounds

Of crashing waves in the background.

Waves never heard over the cannon fire.

The 54th storming over the wall.

The 54th Massachusetts Regiment,

Of freemen and runaways,

Charging forward over the beach.

Over comrades and enemies alike,

272 fell, raising the American flag.

Not in victory.

272 fell, to get freedom to rise.

800px-The_Storming_of_Ft_Wagner-lithograph_by_Kurz_and_Allison_1890

The Jokers Laugh

A little prose poem for one of the most interesting villains ever created. All hail the Clown Prince

I remember the Jokers laugh, dark and haunting. His terrifying crackles ringing in my ears. Service with a smile. His echo traveling far and wide. A twisted seriousness in his laugh. Something seriously sinister. Inhuman and only the voices in his head were the ones in on the joke. What’s so funny? One may not want to know the answer. Beware of knock knock jokes or that laugh may be the last you ever hear. The Jokers laugh. A clown without carnival or circus. No lions, tigers, or bears. Do not yell, “Bring out the clowns.” You may not like what you get. No ringmaster’s great proclamations. Just a haunting laugh echoing through the dark halls. And at the end of those twisted halls, white face paint with red lipstick smeared like blood. Messy green hair and a smile not even a mother would love. You don’t want under this tent because; this tent is the mind of a mad man. A mad man with a killer joke.

©2014 Taihair Brown

joker

6am

I’m up and yawning

Birds singing,

Reminding me how early it is

I want to tell them,

Shut up

 

I sit under a flowing waterfall

It’s really just my shower

But it feels refreshing so

The steam takes me from eyes shut

Now I’m half awake

I need a cup of coffee

Yet I do not drink coffee

Its smell makes me sick

So I’m forced to wake on my own

 

Sitting in my underwear and tee shirt

Back on my bed

Tempted to lie back down

If I did,

There’d be no getting back up

 

I have to get dressed

That fact doesn’t make me move

Knowing what I need to do,

Doesn’t make me move faster

 

Breakfast; fresh eggs and sausage

A glass of orange juice

Some Greek yogurt too

There’s always energy for food

 

Slowly dressed,

My bed still whispering to me

Looking so soft and warm

That whore just tempts me

 

Step out the door

Into the morning cold

Looking forward to

The fun of early morning traffic

 

Curse whoever invented 6am

Taihair Brown ©2014

6am-cover

When the River is Ice

Some time when the river is ice, ask me

When the sun is no longer shining bright

And bird’s songs have become whispers in the winter

Ask me

When Jack Frost is at play

A field of snowman await

When fisherman leave their rods at home

The scent of hot stew warms their bones

Children play in heavens touch of Earth

And mother’s chase after them with scarfs in tow

Ask me

When snow flies from the arms of men

Safe, as they can hear sounds of bears hibernating slumber

And smoke from chimneys fills the skies

From households keeping warm in winters eye

With his gaze, the river shall turn to ice

Knowing then, you can say

Good: now it is time

Taihair Brown ©2014

river is ice

Twas the Night Santa Snapped

On this Christmas, Santa did snap

He climbed down the chimney and went on the attack

Under the mistletoe, blowtorch kisses

On this day, Santa granted no Christmas wishes

His jolly laugh, turned to one so sour

No one was safe from his murderous Christmas power

With every ho ho ho, cries and whimpers

Torn ligaments and severed torsos from his victims

His belly jiggled like a bowl of jelly

All while he sliced flesh like a butcher’s deli

His eyes, oh how they twinkled with murderous glee

On this night, when sleigh bells jingle, it’s best to flee

Children cried, not of joy from wondrous toys

Waking up to find their parents trampled by Santa’s Reindeer convoy

Ole Jolly Saint Nick, was now more than a prick

A murderous dick with a knife that did more than just prick

9 malevolent Reindeer pulled his blood red sleigh

On this Christmas night, plenty he did slay

©2013 Taihair Brown

silent-night