Over the hill & under the stars

On a night like this I did love her.

Under the moon and stars we did kiss.

Every night I waited where we were.

Always she came from the near-by hill.

 

Under the moon she wore a shimmering fur.

Waiting for a shooting star to make a wish

So we could live forever in this romantic bliss.

These nights, nothing brought me a greater thrill.

 

I would aim for her lips and miss.

Teasing me with a sweet innocent purr—

But on this night, I knew something was amiss

As if there were something inside she wanted to kill.

 

On that next night, I wondered where she were.

Would I be left alone to just reminisce?

Or did she tire and I was dismissed?

I kept waiting till I could no longer stand the chill.

 

I returned each and every night, fooled by every blur.

Never were they my love coming to sit—

Coming to laugh or make my heart once again stir.

Never again did she come from over the hill.

Inside the head of a wise man

Arm Leg Leg Arm Head.

Spiritually I am paid,

with images of reality

where a man walks on water.

Metaphor for staying afloat

when the world attempts—

attempts to drown you under evil.

Give me a beautiful scenery

with a queen right next to me

as we take on corrupt Rome.

Open my own third eye in Awe,

no doubt, I can see far

and see right through you.

If God can birth seeds,

then God can bleed.

That blood runs through—

Through the generations,

passed through history

connecting Afrikans together.

Knowledge passes to the next

and each one teaches one.

The minds workout,

strengthening all

Arm Leg Leg Arm & Head

to go to war verses evil—

evils attempts to conquer the world.

Through the power of self,

light comes to chaotic corners

in the form of dark armor.

Polished and bred under the Sun,

strengthened by years of hardships.

Stand together and build,

kill at will with steel,

but only when wickedness brings ill

to threaten the life of communities

with marshal law

and a false sense of authority.

But peace is always the first option—

First second third and fourth.

That is what a wise man knows.

©Taihair Brown 2015

With a smile

I wake and start my day with a smile.

I shower and get dressed with a smile.

On the drive to work, I don’t curse.

There’s no yelling or flipping of fingers.

I drive to work and sit in traffic with a smile.

I work my shift and laugh with co-workers.

I get my job done with a smile.

I sit through meetings, get yelled at,

yet I never frown or fuss.

I get through my day with a smile.

I go home to kiss my wife and kids.

I answer all their enthusiastic questions

and I comply with all their requests.

I do it all with just a smile.

I go into the bathroom so no one will see me cry.

No one can see the pain that hides beneath this smile

©Taihair Brown 2015

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