hey, stupid
write it down
before it’s gone.
drinking from the cup
after the coffee’s cold
satisfies nothing.
you want the bite
and the sting
while it’s still fresh.
later, it’s just the ring
left by the memory
of what you had.
drink it now
and savor it
before it’s just regret.
bleed it out
burn it in
revel in
the inbetween
the open wound
the remaining scar
blacken the heart,
embers under the soul
incisions
excisions
remnants
endure it
overcome it
remember it
pure in pain
sure in growth
quenched in agony
tempered in fury
whole in memory
strong in faith
what remains is better.
everything else is chaff.
decency grovels on
in hidden hovels
head down, trembling
while the man rages on,
storming the walls
indifferent to all
calls for restraint
pushing, pulling, ripping apart
rules meant to sustain
preening in disdain
greedy for gain
laughing at pain
burn it down
blow it apart
bleed it for sport
roast it over fire
char it bitter and black
and serve it with ketchup,
wrapped in despair.
bon appétit.
what is the point
when everything just serves
why?
when do we see
where the words land
is why they exist?
will you try to explain
when your words stray
beyond your intent?
why?
i watched the spider weave…
she moved so quick,
so sure.
i envied her instinct
her surety
her purity
her purpose
i hope she fed well.
shuffling past the pampered penguins
flashing a pitiful crude broken sign
wasted, tattered, raw and sickened
she cries, pleading for small mercies
flashing a pitiful crude broken sign
to the sea of uncaring fat shiny faces
she cries, pleading for small mercies
they hear nothing, see little, care less
to the sea of uncaring fat shiny faces
dashing herself against their indifference
they hear nothing, see little, care less
she breaks, drowning outside their harbor
dashing herself against their indifference
stoned face apathy, merciless, unmakes her
she breaks, drowning outside their harbor
the penguins move on, ignoring the wreckage
This dusty, pretty box
Left high on a shelf
Dusted off, lid lifted
Filled with shattered pieces
Of dreams, once bright…
Who will care enough
To take them out
Sort them one by one
Put them together again
Let their beauty shine, whole?
I will. I will.
For the dreams I see
Taking shape again
Are far too beautiful
To remain broken in the dark.
One piece at a time
Each day laid to rest
A step taken in faith
Another part revealed
To be cherished anew…
©2016 Aaron Brown
Unexpected, this encounter
Strange, this warmth of early spring
Through windows long closed, ‘gainst winter
Thrown open again, feeling the breeze
Welcome, spring’s awakening
Winter is beauty, haunting
Spring is life, returning
Listen, as flowers to rain
Revel, as birds ‘tween clouds
Live, as lovers in bloom
©2016, Aaron Brown
old man in an old boneyard
busy and bustling, brimming
strung out with memories
of those frivolous dead
the weight of years
lay in solemn state
atop his weary heart
heavy with pain and fear
characters strung in lines
stains of ancient tears
streamed across weathered cheeks
with flowers strewn below
memory-engraved stone
reads dearly beloved,
here lies
etc, etc.
you know what he said.
and live it all, wring it dry
before it’s gone, whispered
on turning away.
©2014, Aaron Brown
I bled out my soul to the emptiness
Until there was nothing left in me
Empty, I found the wisdom of silence
The heart of the desert spoke to me,
Saying: let it all go.
Release your old hurts, you’ve survived them.
Unchain your memories, you’ve outgrown them.
I wept all night, listening to the stars,
And left soon after sunrise, refreshed,
Committed to movement after stillness
The highway home shone from the overnight rain.
©2014 Aaron Brown
oh THAT aaron brown 