“In the face of pain, there are no heroes.”
-George Orwell


there are no heroes


I walk through a blood filled land.

A battlefield full of screams, tears—

No one can hear me crying here.

I scream out that I would die for you.

Amongst the chaos, I am still alone.

Bodies rise and fall around me,

yet no one seems to see me walking.

Is it too late to save my very soul?

The earthquake rattles the land; fall.

No. The bombs tear apart the ground.

The earth rises up and swallows me whole.

I wake to the same scene, yet again.

Puddles of blood and haunting screams.

There I stand alone in Gods war on hell.

Who is left to pray for me?

Is there any love left in me?

Is it too late for my soul?

It’s not the rapture and I’m not Christ.

Just a mortal man fighting a war—

A war he cannot win or prevent.

So I stand ready for this path again.

Ready to take my own life for this pain.

The blood increases with every reset.

Puddles turn to seas. Seas to oceans.

Each march through bodies and gore

that weigh me down further with each step

and my inner self dies with it; I weep.

Among the dying and the living,

is there anyone who will save my soul?

I fight myself. I fight the world. I fight all.

I’m alone, so no one will pray for me.

Sacrifice is the verdict as I give up my heart.

Heroes don’t live, so they cannot die.

So there’s no one to come save my soul.

If someone were to come along this path;

Don’t pray me for.

Kill me and take away this pain,

finally adding my own to this blood ocean.


Copyright ©2018 Taihair Brown



More than words

hide in poetry

If I were to recite what sits on my brain at night,
your soul would be blinded by my creative light.
Honorable, pledging allegiance to my pen and pad.
I can express myself when mad or shed tears when sad—
Metaphorically, to hide any pain that maybe resting inside;
eating me alive cause part of me has died with my pride.
Now all that is left is a never healing injury and misery
and nothing to look forward to as better days are now history.
I put it all into words and maybe rhyme it with birds,
so then maybe the pain would also fly away afterwards.
To you, what is a simple free poem done without a style,
is my life that lacks smiles or anything to look to, worthwhile.

Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

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


Twas the Night Santa Snapped

On this Christmas, Santa did snap.

He climbed down the chimney and went on the attack.

Under the mistletoe he blew 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



Through the forest and into the valley

There sleeps my dear Sally

Up and over the mountain where the river runs fast,

Carving an ever flowing path

My beautiful Sally sleeps, dreaming a dream

Where the sun shines upon a grass so green

Just pass the desert-deserted

Around the plains the Lions kept well guarded

Slumber away my lady

Do so as the world continues fading

Just pass the Lake, but far from shore

In the most beautiful dress you wore

Away from crashing waves

And the pain and glory of days

The rich soil hides our sin

From when I murdered you in the den

And I buried you far from the eyes of men

©2013 Taihair Brown

The Devils Party

As the moon rises overhead

The eye in the darkened sky

Wolves howl, signifying the nights begin

The undead stir restlessly

Ghouls awaken from their eternal slumber

The night yawns with the passing fog

Nightwalkers climb from their tombs

The dead grass dances as the wind moans

Worms move through dirt and long decayed carcasses

Unblinking eyes stare into the night sky

Here the living has no say

This dance of ghouls and goblins

An eerie night that provides a fright

Wander in if you dare

Where ghost sing to the owl’s chorus

Not for mortal eye’s to see

The raven prepare to take any lost souls

In the devils playground, no one hears you scream

Where the wolves howl, yet remain unseen

And ghastly creatures stalk in the shadows

Hand’s reach out from the darkness to devour flesh

As the moons lays its self to rest

Back to their resting places slink the creatures of the night

Raven’s fly off with the flesh of captured prey

Only the owl sits

The silent witness to the night’s events

©2013 Taihair Brown

the devils party

Dark Imagination

Hi, I’m your dark imagination

I was sleep in your subconscious

There’s no turning me off, so listen

Pick up that knife, feel its weight

Let it talk to you

What are you shaking for?

Take two steps to the right

Turn down that hall

Walk 20 paces

Now slowly open that door

Don’t make too much noise

Your dear wife is sleeping so sound

Walk up to her

Admire that beautiful face

Sleeping so peacefully

Now give her a joker’s smile

Why hesitate?

Just listen to me

That’s the way

Cover her mouth

No need for her to wake the kids

It’s mommy and daddy time

We’re too far to second guess

Why you blaming me?

You’re the one holding the knife

Alright I’ll help you, watch

Don’t mind the blood

Leave the dark room

Take the body too silly

You know the saw in the garage?

See, now you get it

Make sure to close the door

Don’t want the kids waking up

Feel the blade cutting flesh

Hearing the crunching of bone

Don’t worry, she feels nothing

Just keep cutting

Bag all the remains

The little tiny pieces

Trash day’s tomorrow right?

Don’t forget to toss the sheets

Not as difficult as you thought

Mommy just went on a trip

That’s what you’ll tell the kids

You went to bed, she was there

Woke up and she was gone

That’s what you’ll tell everyone else

Just listen to me

Everything will be okay

And if the kids ask too many questions

There’s always the other knife

… know the one