Broken

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She is still broken into parts,

but there is nowhere to hide.

Both her mind and her heart,

were crushed ‘fore I came.

She tries to run, she tries to hide—

Pushing me away at times,

even when I reach out to help.

So astonishingly beautiful,

yet so severely damaged within.

He lived only to serve himself,

leaving her just an empty shell.

I swear my love to her to be pure—

Can my words really be true?

I see it all in her tender eyes—

Wondering to herself in silence,

if I will repeat his mistakes.

I want to glue her pieces back,

but she looks right through me—

“Don’t ever think you know me,”

she says in frustration, and yet…

I stay by her side through the storm.

My heart carries zero doubt.

Together, we will repair her heart.

 

©2017 Taihair Brown

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Don’t Shoot

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Dancing to the Devil under Gods sun.
Officer, please answer my cries and pleas.
No one will mourn for me is what they’ll think.
Terrified because you have a gun in my face.

Shaking, not because I’m a threat, but because of the threat.
How many tears must I shed before you notice my fear?
Officer, I just want to go home to my kids and kiss them goodnight.
Open your eyes and see my humanity, please.
Tell my family that I love them…
Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

The Lonely Star

lonely star

A star once fell from the sky.

Far from its home, it cried.

Every night, it would look up high.

It missed the freedom it once had.

Sitting in an endless sea,

the universe was its playground.

Now earthbound, it was without—

Without the planets it called friends.

Without the beauty of passing meteors.

Always just out reach,

the star longed to be in the heavens.

On one cold and lonely night,

a man walked by the crying star.

He asked it, “what is wrong little star?”

“I wish to return amongst my kin.

Return to the endless sky,” came the star.

The man was not without sympathy or heart,

yet he was quite perplexed.

“Come little star, I shall carry you on my back.”

And so he did, leaving with the star.

Happy not to be alone, but still saddened.

Not being able to view the vast universe,

he still wished to be in the sky.

The man carried the star up the tallest mountain.

“Here little star, view the vast world.”

And so the star as the man asked.

Off of the mans back, through weary eyes,

the star was amazed at what he saw.

Birds soaring freely over the peak.

A world, alive and moving just below.

Looking up to the sky he had longed for,

Shooting stars raced across the blue.

For the first time since his fall,

he could see the sky so clearly.

Tears began to fall from the star.

The man saw this and asked,

“Why do you still cry little star?”

The star looked to the man, smiling—

“I have known such beauty in life

and I believed there could be no other.

On the surface here, I saw an ugly world.

You, one who has never soared the universe,

showed me pity and gave me a new life.

From here, I can see a living world.

Birds fly high through a clear sky.

Clouds moving at their own carefree pace.

The rising moon and the sinking horizon sun.

Below, living things moving about.

Life growing and dying, then being reborn.

A cold air, bringing different smells of the season.

Here, I feel connected to the world as a whole.”

Together they sat, observing the world.

Eventually the man would leave,

but the star no longer felt any sadness.

Up over, in the sky above, sits a once lonely star.

On the tallest mountain, it watches from afar.

No longer does it reach for the sky.

Earthbound, but no longer feeling chained,

a star watches over the world it calls home.

 

Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

A Poet is…

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A poet is a romantic who expresses himself through art.

Married to words, committed to what’s carved on his heart.

He can bring them together in rhyme to hit his mark,

or he can let them sore free like an eagle through the sky.

A poet is married to a craft that opens up his soul.

Sometimes he can communicate through the art form,

something he couldn’t say in a normal conversation.

He delivers to her a portrait that paints a mental image.

In it, he says what his lips couldn’t speak out loud.

A poet is someone who lets his emotions bleed to the paper.

He takes the weight of the pain and eases it with ink.

The pen is linked to his soul and it crafts something beautiful—

Showing a majestic world of colors beyond imagination.

A poet is one who needs not speak to convey meaning.

A poet is one who can make you fall in love with words.

One who can make you laugh, cry, and fall in love all at once.

A poet is one who speaks what’s on his heart and mind,

even when he is incapable of verbally expressing it out loud.

Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

The Night Sky

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Come outside and check out the night sky.

Come look at the stars with me.

Would you prefer your yellow roof?

Sitting inside with your wine glass—

You’re missing out on the beauty.

Come out with me.

Come check out the night sky.

It’s poetry without words.

Don’t be a stick in the mud—

Come and join me.

Come outside and check out the night sky.

 

Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

How Quickly Things Change

two-faced

You are more than my friend,

You are my support—

My strength when I’m weak.

The light when it gets dark.

You are my very smile,

The reason for this joy in my life.

 

~Then shadows took over the light~

 

You became just a sore memory.

The cause of my pain,

The source of my weakness.

The boulder that broke the camels back.

You are the reason I frown—

The reason I have no joy in my life.

 

Copyright © 2016 Taihair Brown

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