Tuesday, July 31, 2012

For those whose names history never knew

For those whose names history never knew


Scream loud


Yours is

The voice that needs to be heard

Yours is

The shout that breaks down walls


The ache in your belly is

The one that shatters the locks on great storehouses

Feeding the many


The blood dripping from your back and brow is

The fuel that feed the conflagration that consumes

Oppression and oppressor


Scream loud


Yours is

The wail of grief bawled over the bodies of dead sons and daughters

Yours is

The call to arms that awakes righteousness

Sending injustice cowering


The tears shed from your eyes

are prayers sent up from your soul

To profound  

To heartfelt

To full of a hurt and aching

To ever be expressed by any human tongue


Scream loud


Your names

May never be known

Your lives

Your loves


My be forgotten


But your story

Your unwanted cause

Will forever be told


©Christopher F. Brown 2012




Saturday, July 28, 2012


If you took a




Grew it

Bred it

Let it mature

Let it multiply

Until it became plural

Until it became




You would begin to see

The power in many

The strength contained by a few

The might of one


Change your view

Change your mind


©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Independent Main Character




Am not here to play

A or the

Supporting role

In the story of




To give




To contrast against





I’ll be  







Completely Co-dependent



My story

Isn’t about



©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Wednesday, July 25, 2012




I have an identity

Within freedom




Identify myself


The freedom to

Identify myself

Or not

We take for granted


I would never let anyone

Dictate my identity


Just as I fight

To protect my freedom


Freedom to identify



Freedom to change my identity



Identity is synonymous with



Stating your name loudly

And changing it

If you so choose

Is one of the smallest

And most overlooked

Acts of civil rights that a person can do


We don’t see this

We don’t know this







Is gone


©Christopher  F. Brown 2012

Monday, July 23, 2012

Something New

Over time

I don’t want to get use to it


It should piss you off

The very same way it did

Day nine hundred and ninety nine

As it did

Day one


I don’t want to be complacent


“That’s just the nature of things.”


Why so?


It wasn’t defective

It wasn’t less stylish


They just made a new one


This new one

It doesn’t work with old



I have to start over

With this new one

Because this old one

Is old


That should not make any sense

And it pisses me off

That to some

It does


Nothing is wrong with it

But you respond


“Over time

You’ll get use to it.

It’s the nature of things”


I refuse.


©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Thursday, July 19, 2012


There are


Things in the universe that truly are




Not everything that exists

Has it



Everything that lives

Must die



Rather if you believe or not

Affords you the freedom to do so



The only beast

To claim Intelligence


than all others beasts

And spends its life

In the pursuit of proving said claim



No one

Ever was


Ever will




©Christopher F. Brown 2012



Tell me your thoughts

Expound on the situation



Is your opinion



Is your rebuttal


I want to know


What do you think

How do you feel

What’s on your mind


Its why I ask

Its because I care


I offer you this


You’ll never have to entertain gossip

From me

You can question

From me

You will know


©Christopher F. Brown 2012


Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Sing Me A Song

Sing me a song

Make it sad and slow


Tell me about heartache and pain

The loves you have lost

The loves you have gained


Sing me a song

Make it up beat and fast


Tell me about being in the back of the club

Things you don’t tell you mother


Things you’ll warn your children



Sing me a song

Make it an acapella version


Tell me about the lord

Hitting high notes that take my soul with them

Rumbling low notes that jerk at my tears on their trip


Sing me a song

Play a guitar with it


Tell me how the government is no longer representing the people

Tell me how if it was not for bad luck you would have none


Sing me this song

This one right here


The one I wrote

To and for



©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Monday, July 9, 2012

Jazz is Blue

I think if you had to color Jazz

It would be Blue


Not the same blue of the blues


That’s a deep purpleish blue

With specks of red and black


Red and black representing soul

Not hurt

Not pain



Jazz’s blue is different


Sorta mellow at times

Fits well as background

works well with most other colors

Vivid enough to stand alone


Jazz is Blue

like the sky on a clear day


Jazz is Blue

mixing with grey when the clouds come in


Jazz is Blue

Mixing with yellow when the sun blazes on those hot summer days


Jazz is Blue

As the quiet ocean waves breaking in the morning


Jazz is Blue

Foaming and turning seagreen in the afternoon


I don’t have synaesthesia


But ill tell you


When I hear


I see Blue


©Christopher F. Brown 2012

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Look in the mirror

Would GOD

Create something for his eyes to delight in

Craft something for his heart to take pleasure in

Something more than the insult of an adolescent plaything

Something more precious than a first born


Would GOD

Make a thing so beautiful

The angels came to know envy


Would GOD

Create a beast

Whose intelligence lifted generation after generation

To higher peaks

Unfathomable depths

Cleverness mixing with craft

To such extents they scream




Would GOD

Fashion a being

Whose heart was able to carry compassion

Shoulders strong enough to bear forgiveness

Senses able to decipher:

A natural right

A natural wrong


Would GOD

Make something with his own hand

Something he was so pleased and took pleasure in

Something so unique in the universe

its mere and encompassing existence

Crudely mirrored his own.


Would GOD

Create such form that in its ignorance

Thought it was a or the


Given nothing surrounding it could comprehend its breath

Could comprehend its comprehensions

A life form so magnanimous amongst other life forms

he could hold some on the tip of his finger

Others hundreds of times him in size bowed down

Called him master


Would GOD

Create such a light

It could identify with the solitude it is to be




©Christopher F. Brown  2012

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