JIMMY BURNS' PANTS
 
I found a pair of pants on top of my big locker
looked like they had been up there awhile,
a big tyre mark through the centre.
 
I knew they were Jimmy's even before I asked him
this was his old room
and people here did things like that
and they were proud of them too.
I liked Jimmy
he said he came from the gorballs
some said
the worst estate in europe.
 
When he used to laugh
he looked like he was about to piss himself.
Over the years
 I thought I would meet more Jimmy's
but I am still looking
Sad to say. 
 


                                     NO POEMS


No poems shall I write today
None of hope or new chances.
No poems shall I write today of love.
No poems shall I write today that speak of the freshness of the air
The newness of the day.
No poems shall I write today of laughter.
No poems shall I write today of beauty.
No poems shall I write today.
No poems shall I write today.
No poems.
none.
Not today.


                               CRAZY CRAZY


There are a pair of pants on top of the small roof next to my toilet. 
I know because I threw them there.
Sometimes people walk by
Talking about them
Like there were some tourist attraction.

Some people have flags of their country flying from their roofs.
I have a flag of underpants from the country of crazy crazy
And it is the only country for me.


             THE WORST POET IN THE WORLD


Have you heard about the worst poet in the world
He tells people to F off on stage.
Goes to the mic drunk.
Makes fun of people.
turns up late or not at all.
if you haven't seen him
I have to confess.
He
Is 
Me.
 
 
 
                        SHAME SHAME SHAME
 
As ride of the valkyres came on
I had an urge to leap from my chair
put my feet on the shoulders of the boy in front
and fly up into the air.
 
Push up around the dome of the royal albert hall
circling everybody as I soared above like a big bald eagle
and just for a second I was sure I could do it
 
but I didn't quite believe enough
what a shame.

 

                                      Sea
 

Flat bathtub sea
nipples and knees
sunken volcanoes
Polynesian islands
the sound of drumbeat
steady as the natives
lullaby me to sleep,
palms suspended,
thoughts suspended,
life upended, worry
drowned, as I sink down
into my pores
and know myself
in you. 


                                             Dear Son
 

It is early. I am not awake.
Dear Son, this is why we close the windows.
The is why we lock the doors.
 
A person can feel like a prison.
 
I’ve been out a lot this week.
I’d like to curl up, curl in, close out
the world.
 
Dear Son, this is why we draw the blinds.
 
The joy radiating from you is a million
times brighter than the light from the windows.
Everything is heavy. My soul is breaking.
 
A person can feel like an answer.
 
I’m best at tragedy and grief.
Dear Son, this is why we love our mothers.
They wake up and remake the world.
 
 

                             Curl
 

The dark-haired girl that curled inside herself;
She was unwilling to be born this way.
The boy with the evil smile pushed.
He tried to force her spine to bend and crack.
 
She was unwilling to be born this way.
Her fingers were white against brown pages.
He tried to force her spine to bend and crack.
She stared at blurring words, did not look up.
 
Her fingers were white against brown pages.
Lines of story wove for her a soft cocoon.
She stared at blurring words, did not look up.
And she grew her soul into a frightening curve.
 
Lines of story wove for her a soft cocoon.
The boy with the evil smile pushed.
And she grew her soul into a frightening curve;
The dark-haired girl that curled inside herself.
 
 
 
 

                                  THE DEPARTED           
 


Covered, closed and sealed
Fist after fist of moist sand
Laid to rest
The walk back now for the living
A drive to return to an empty abode
Wouldn't it be so much better to also bury the memories behind
Carry on now i must, and still be near the places where we used to dwell
Incomplete, left to repeat  a single wish
If only you had taken me with you
My eyes stray on the barren shelves
Where you kept your clothes
Residues of your perfume still linger in the air
The very scents that stirred my lusts for so long
Now make it so hard to breath
i must wake still, every morning and pretend to be alive
Though, i know i went in that grave much before you
What remains now is a quest
 To seek answers for infinite questions that are left for me
All of them beginning with "why"
The finality of it all, this surcease
 Becomes too much to bear
My heart beats on my chest like a hammer on a condemned wall
And when i can take no more, i fall to my knees and cry
Sob tears that rise from an abyss
Very deep inside
For the love lost to me
The warm embraces now cold as artic snow
The kisses owed but never collected
The words that i felt but left unsaid
Maybe you're in a better place now
 Better than this living, breathing hell
That caves in around me
Maybe you're happy now
Or maybe, simply, this is what i deserved all along
So now that you're with others i see
Everyone else but me
 I'm taken back in that cemetery
To a cold dark corner, tranquil in perpetual shadow
Far away and sequestered
 On a little piece of hallowed ground
Where broken hearts are buried
 
 


                            ANATOMY OF A CURSE
 


Let it be so
Let it come to your turn
 These dark hallucinations of my mind
 The hope that your lips burn
When you kiss some other
Your deepest hazel eyes to lose color
When you see it’s not me
 
 
Cry out loud in anguish
When you think of the love we made
Rashes ravage that flawless skin
With every touch that isn’t mine
 
Ash gray to your fleece of jet black hair
I wish it to be now
The same pallor of what you left behind
Since they no longer cascade over me         
Let those nimble fingers never feel sensations
Those fingers that once entwined with mine
 
Slip from your palm every coin you ever hold
Know you how it is to be bereft of all you ever owned
Skip a thousand beats of that dead cold heart you carry
Every time my name is told
 
Ghouls and vampires call on you
 In the dead of every night
When this world retires to its slumber
See how it feels to live
 Your life six hundred feet under
How the full moon now shines but not for its purpose before
Those kisses we shared in its glow are ours no more
Walk to where you want, run so you can hide
I pray my memories hound you
Let them never leave your side
 
 
No church or temple to give you relief
Dance your ways with Satan
Go round and round and round
Such a lovely couple you’d make
Always room for some common ground
 
Rejoice in rebirth, I am fully woken
The spell you had cast is finally broken
 Now live the way that I did
Have your remaining years be wasted         
 And let you languish through days and see
Then and only then
Will you discover, lover
The true meaning of the word misery.


                                             SAHARA
 
 
Only when on my knees
I saw how far I had fallen
The azure skies above me 
Bereft of clouds of shelter
Had perhaps shown me enough mercy
The cracked and dry soil below
Have gained a few drops of rain
Shed by my withered eyes
Arid, desolate this land
Vast and open
Yet closed to supplications 
Only my lonely cries
Come echoing back to me 
Mumbling verses of faith
Through lips parched 
My resolve fritters away in the furnace hot winds
Whilst I wallow in reminiscences of my halcyon days
Night falls with no promise of surcease 
And I'm haunted by specters of worries to come 
Toss and turn like violent seas, I can get no release 
My ship sails endless over breaking waves 
Falling at the seams 
Ready to be broken on the rocks of the sorrows I conjure
With every dawn rises new pain 
Of repeating what yesterday left behind
And hope floats like a mirage 
To let me walk towards another oasis 
For some elixir to wet my lungs 
Each step on broken feet 
I falter and I fail
Vultures follow me with malevolent glee
Waiting for that final fall
I stumble and I crawl 
For temporary refuge
My beastly companions track my trail with blood lusted eyes
Point their poisonous beaks at me
Hands fall open
Unravel scrolls of dreams yet to be fulfilled
They laugh at my condition 
Behold the fate of man; they say 
Holding on to things that do not hold to him 
 
 

                                   The Wagon     
 

So Like a man inured to failure,
We climbed aboard the wagon,
And The driver, only the driver,
Began to listen as the cadence of our deprivation
—Thud. . .. Clunk. . . and so on-
-Infiltrated the wagon’s pores,
Starting with that first dirt road.
Our lives’ parasols disappointed us
When we shared sorrows
Without fancy titles,
while Reaping lethargy and frustration.
It wasn’t only the driver, or The horse, or Our heads
That looked meager;
The wagon’s outlook did too.
 
Translated by William M. Hutchins

                                        All Fall Down
  
 
Leaves toppling from trees fiery
leaves red yellow green flames. 
Only this remains...smoky ends of days.
 
Days like leaves crumbling, shriveled,
tumbling down, falling to the ground.
Scattered into an acrid mound.
 
An acrid mound of sour roots. Our garden
grew from the wrong side of the moon.
Brackish vines are harvested there.
 
Flowers of despair grew a single fruit.
It tasted bittersweet. My laughter became
harsh.  My eyes grew oblique.                                             
 
I want to curse and cry against this world.
Fine dreams stolen...ragged and torn
like leaves blown in storm.
 
Storm winds strangle treetops, shaking,
foliage pulled from boughs.  Broken
by thunder pummeled through long nights
 
Long nights heavy rains spilling black ink
stains.  There is no solution, another day
done, another piece of the puzzle gone
 
Ashes ashes all fall down
what is lost cannot be found. 
 
 
                                              Eleventh Hour
 

Wrapped in darkness we can
no longer deceive ourselves. 
Our smiling masks float away.
We snake here, there
from one side to another. 
How many times do we rip off 
blankets only to claw more on?
 
Listening to zzzzzz of traffic,
mumble of freight trains, fog horns.
Listening to wheezing,
feeling muscles throb.
How can we find comfort?
 
Say same word over and over
again again falling falling to sleep.
I will stop measuring what was lost.
I will become brave.
 
Let slumber come covering me.
Let my mouth droop, fingers tingle.
Wishing something cool…soft…sweet.
Now I will curl like a fetus
gathering into myself
hoping to awake new born.

​                                                   Flight
 
You emerged
from the ripples,
flapped your wings
then spread them,
tapped out your beat
on pannier drums,
repeating yourself
until you knew
your time had come;
 
in the way
a moment passes,
slow and deliberate
at first, some circling
of the wagons, before
momentum builds and
its wheels begin to spin.
 
Then you took flight,
checked your reflection
in the river mirror
and drove yourself
beyond the bridge.
We watched you go
until you were gone,
knew you wouldn’t return.
It was time to move on.


                                        He played piano
 

Alone, he played piano
to the stillness of the room,
his notes rising and falling,
bursting like balloons.
 
Every song was a way out, a
respite ray of hope in gloom
he played for all who could
not hear, while he stole time,
 
forgot all moments past, his
tears. Then silence reigned,
everything returned to him,
all the memories of her pain.
 


                                                  Where
 
These landmarks tell our story.
 
Where I met the real you, knew;
where I walked you home from
when I didn’t know anything about you,
except that I wanted to know everything.
 
Where we waited, I miss you bouncing
bird-like against my brain’s cage.
 
Where you held me and my tears.
 
Where I took you to tell you,
we shared our truth;
where we went, the first place
you’d ever asked me to.
 
Where we sat in the sun
and nothing had changed.
 
Where now tells me everything had.


                                 Waiting for Her
 
I wanted her
to be you.
 
Sometimes
I think I still do.
 

                                      Splitting the Atom 


We thought Siamese twins was the official term, 
but never thought of what it meant
to be joined at the hip or head or heart
with someone else 
nor how one might achieve extrication 
from such a bond; 
we were too busy following each other 
to leave any part of ourselves
above the parapet of adolescence. 

We grew up, 
learned that they were conjoined 
by some anomaly of fate, 
genetics had conspired 
to mould their beings into one. 

Science taught us how to split the atom, 
of the force and power that act could generate 
when the Enola Gay scoured Hiroshima, 
and later when white coats in Switzerland 
sent particles on voyages of indeterminate length 
about a modicum of the Universe, 
hoping to create another explosion. 

But there were no experiments
conducted to uncover the secrets 
of that so natural yet complex force 
with enough energy and power 
to create another universe, 
one where you and I might live. 
Those, we carried out ourselves 
from the instant we exploded 
until our sun burnt out. 

Then the separation began: 
we didn’t like our odds 
but shared the dream 
that we might find a way 
to extract our minds from one another; 
that our hearts would regenerate, 
one day reproduce those particles 
and rifle them into life’s atmosphere 
so we could discover another twin 
to share our being.

                              Aster's and Ladybugs
 
Pristine morning of
awakening sunshine;
soft, gentle winds blow
as butterflies dance.
Marshmallow cloudy
shadows drifting as
chirping birds sing
sweetest sonnets.
Two lovely Ladybugs
glide by in the breezes
now rest upon the Aster's
at my dew whetted feet.
Sunday morning smiles;
comforted in the radiance
covet all within his gaze
the joyous hawk circles.
 
 
 
                                                              I Pray For.....
 
a sunrise to ignite
wispy, darkened corners
as planet Earth awakens,
a warm blanket spreads
while the King of Light rises,
the unseen now revealed.
I wish.....
surging swift waters will
fill inland marshes and
salty tidal creeks as blue
crabs roam; shorebirds
scatter all about the sand
while seeking small meals.
I wish.....
to be chased from the edge
of the ocean's rushing surf
by greedy pursuing waves
keeping Neptune's coveted
treasures of the deep safely
stashed from view.
I Pray.....
to awaken as chirping birds
fly by my open sunlit window,
whilst my teapot sings a sonnet
announcing this new day of
exhilarated joy as praise be an
alluring soft whisper in my ear.
 
 
 
 
                                     Ocean of Sadness

 
Seek the visions of light and starry gladness
moved by the oceans of perpetual sadness
live for a truth within the night of frivolity
cast away shadows of an ornamental novelty
dancing through life as strife is always abated
thunderous blast from an icy past is inflated.
wiping all tears in the fears of the breathless
death speaks of the weak to spirits so restless
if you can't voice the truth to the youth of today
get the hell of the stage and rage another way.
 
 

          Golden Locks Upon a Morning Breeze
 

incessant jovial mumbling aghast
golden locks upon a morning breeze
convertible top down in harsh sunlight
Siamese cat rides proud upon the dash
casting hazy shadows from stem to stern
quieted ride upon the marshmallow tires
pizza bites sizzle on the red hot headers
as my brain awakens in a drunken stupor
crossing the plains, without fear or disdain
seeking or freaking like a two headed clam
memories absolved of all pleasure or piety
golden locks flow upon a morning breeze.
 
 


        Blissfully Waiting for Lithium's Last Kiss

 
Heartlessly waiting and regretfully abating
 questioning the motif of an abstract work
 wishing to feel the tweak or feted treats
 as the needle in the arm burns so slightly.
Stand in a street now feeling less bleak
the Count reaches ten, the Muppets dance
the pain is long gone, Miss Piggy looks hot!
June thaw they say, what time is it anyway?
The officer stands looking me in the eyes
he checks my name on his computer list
asks why I'm roof bound trying to fly, say I
just blissfully waiting for Lithium's last kiss.

​
                                      BONDAGE
 

Prosetry of backlit glance, stot of your smile
chiseled my corners: the math of seduction
coerced me to falsehoods.  Alliaceous floats
smelled like spice. Beads of my chaplet were
soaked in the drain of deception. Prebuttal is
in-built in conversations. In our tie-up the
mind was mortaged.

                                           LAMENT
 

Symphonies of another summer
lure me to a lonesome walk
on the sideways of sorrow.
The sun helps by hiding in cirrus.
Moments such as these urge:
salvation is in acceptance.
 
Your retinae blurred with bitterness
finds me exhausted and unanxious.
I can’t muster energies required
for exhumation. I gifted you
my dictionaries, don’t inquire
of words that do not dwell there.
 

Adam Levon Brown is a published author, poet, amateur photographer, and cat lover. He is owner of Madness Muse Press; a micro-press that publishes dark poetry, and a book reviewer for Five 2 One Magazine. He has over 100 poems published in 9 different countries. He has been published in venues such as Burningword Literary Journal, Corvus Review, and Yellow Chair Review. Adam can be contacted via his website at www.AdamLevonBrown.org where he offers free poetry resources. Also see his press at www.Madnessmusepress.com

Adam has one chapbook out titled, “These Streets Don’t Cry For Us” which can be found on Amazon. He attends Lane Community College and will soon attend the University of Oregon as an English Major/Creative Writing Minor.
 

                                                 Emotional Explosives
 


Sleeping with
A hand grenade
for a heart always
makes me jumpy.
 
As if somehow
in the middle of the night
I will explode into tears.
 
Soliloquy sorted
by synapses sifting
silently through
the sieve of sanity.
 
I hang my fears
on the nightstand
and press my head
into the pillow;
 
Hoping not to
wake the raging
beast that lies
within.
 
 
 
 
                                                           Memory Tainted
 

Tense and struggling
to keep the monstrosity
in check.
 
Pushing past adversity
and unseen barriers
makes a heart strong.
 
Halting memories
keep me bound
to a fate of my
worst fears.
 
When the juggernaut
sleeps, I will find
true peace.
 
 
 
                               The Marked Ones
 


Serendipitous soliloquy splintered through
Laborious salivation
 
Sanctimonious sacrilege survives through
Inseminating greed and sacrificing succor
 
Salacious sensations stagger sun-chipped
Soldiers with stock-eyed stares
 
Lunar cycles sell simplicity in the form
Of silent silk made for the secret salutations
 
Sins are secreted into the veins of the absorbent
As night slips by into the abyss of solace
 
 

​ 
Limitation...
What do you do
When your own
Shadow
Is ashamed of you?
When the eyes that
Were once clear
And bright,
Have become
Tarnished,
And jaded?
What do you
Tell your friends,
When you cannot
Look them in the
Eye,
And smile sincerely-
While basking
In the glow of
Acceptance?
And how can you
Help
Your family through
A rough
And troubling time,
When the wreckage
Of your past-
Has left you
Paralyzed
With despair?
Where have the
Rainbows
Ended up
This time?
You've chased them
Only to be
Struck down-
By the storm clouds
That gather behind
The soul,
That only wanted
To be
Free?
There is no
Destination--
Only
Limitation...
And an
End
To all
Things...