Rifled

he scrolled through his contacts, debating on who’d hear the ringing shots,

who’d get burned by a stray shell and who’d toss his gun

not who’d get cut down mid-run

trying to save him

from himself:

the ride or die

who pawned her life

for his love

– B. Brown

(art courtesy of Pinterest)

She Raises Me

A prose poem that I wrote for class:

Flirting with thirty from down the hall, barely grasping the scheme of it all, I pull my breaker tighter though the weather is nicer as she tugs on the strap of my baggage, slowing my pace. In a line, with no front and no end but I’m next, in the midst of a contest with no rest… I’ll sprint ’till my shins split and she knows this, believes this even as the tears streak. I’m crushed and ground, salt of the earth, weak. And she still sees the beauty in the beat and swollen me. Is certain that this hurt is only temporary… she tempers my tantrums on the contrary. One of the most beloved set loose from a luminous galaxy to find… me and to wind… me while the rest of this test worries into my vitality. I’m taller. But she’s bigger. I now read well. But she is the cover, my daughter, six and none the wiser that she’s wiser, a better mother to the child in me.

– B. Brown

(art courtesy of Pinterest)

To Whom This May Concern…

As sorry as I’ve felt,

at the foot of my bed,
fetal and folded in

holiday in flannel,

softening for a cigaro
persuading tomorrow,

while clasping laughter

of way back when,

(it sometimes slips)

to sing with your arrival
and to
ring with your arousal

like when I ushered you through

down my Nile,
risking defile,

I will never
apologize for kissing you,
loving you,

only for listening to you

only for

missing you,

like always

for you

-B. Brown

(art image courtesy of Pinterest)

First day subbing…

And they’re trying to figure out where to put me. All the subs came flocking to this school because they have teachers out for training.

I just want to get in a classroom already. This anticipation is killing me…

I’ve got a poem coming for ya’ll, that is, if I survive this day haha

While I’m here, does anyone have any new substitute tips for me? Bless ya girl with some wisdom.

– B. Brown

Today is the day…

I start my Poetry Fundamentals class. I’ve reviewed my readings (which is a crap ton of poems by poets with funny names) and my assignments: analyzing object and list poems and discussing them with my fellow classmates.

And I have two poems due by Sunday for my portfolio.

I’m excited.

I’m nervous.

But I’m hell bent at becoming a refined poet so I’m hungry for this knowledge,

Ready for this challenge.

Alsooooooooo….

My first day of substituting is this Wednesday.

I’m excited.

I’m nervous.

But there’s this woman in my dreams who I aspire to be. She’s been teaching for years, has numerous publications under her belt and has a consisting posting schedule for her website.

These are just some of the steps I’m taking to get to her.

It’s been a while since I’ve been able to feel like I’m in the right place at the right time with the right people.

I’m on my way.

– B. Brown