This journey is unlike anything I could’ve imagined ( good thing this whole thing isn’t my daydream). Because I didn’t think I had it in me, this thing that everyone else saw in me. This thing that earned me the honor of teaching twenty-two blossoming minds.

I was only substituting for about a month and a half before this kindergarten class was tossed into my lap.

I’m considered a long-term substitute; these babies are mine for the rest of the year. I don’t have a teaching certification. My BA didn’t have anything to do with education. I didn’t even want this responsibility. But anyone who is a writer knows about the call to adventure, when the protagonist’s world turns upside down, random people start coming out of no where and the protagonists begins to learn things they wouldn’t have thought to ask about.

And it’s funny because when I prayed, all I asked for was a little push in the right direction. I want to teach college level one day and all I wanted was to be shown the way…

And I think I’ve hit that first conflict. I haven’t been able to write or read or do anything like that for me. I wasn’t able to finish the first draft of my novel for Nanowrimo and I’m only six chapters away. Honestly, I’m crying on the inside, trying to figure out what’s going to come next because I know where my heart really lies; it’s in my writing.

I don’t know where I’m going with this – with this career shift or this blog post. I guess this is me just trying to figure it out, coming to terms with what I’ve asked for.

It just feels strange, knowing that I was heard.

And answered so swiftly.

What does this mean?

– B. Brown

(art by Randall David Tipton: Logjam)

I’ve Returned

and where’ve I been?

easing from under the shade
of my apple tree
whose roots have broken concrete,
whose fruits have fallen
too soon
from the faintest winds,

where have I been?

cowering amongst rotten cores
and tics disguised as seeds
hailing Mary
every time I thought
I heard my mirror speak…

but my reflection wasn’t my own
not that I could even recognize
myself without a tight scarf of smoke

my reflection wasn’t own
I learned that my demons
could shape-shift at will
and they will

where I’ve been
is seeking sanctuary
in the calloused hands of hope
savoring grains of salt
praying that the price I paid
to uproot everything I know
will return to me
and glimmering
with the honest of golds

and truth be told
where I’ve been
now seems eons away
and dozens of crates of mold
I was cheaply sold ago
before I chose to make
that harassing Holy Ghost
my home

here, amongst potential
around the influential
facing a promising venue
of what I could do
what I should do
and will do

I’m here,
found again
never to be lost again…

– B. Brown

[image courtesy of Pinterest]

My Story Still Continues…

I published my first book back in November. I emptied everything I struggled with into it and then sent it off to the world. My friend asks me why I haven’t been promoting it and I told her the truth, even though it was kind of silly.

The truth is that I’m a teeny bit embarrassed about how much I put into it. I gave it my all, like I was supposed to but still, putting such tender pieces of myself onto those pages… it’s like I’m not ready for the entire world to know yet.


I still relieved it’s out there and I know that it could help someone who struggles with loss and their faith just like I do. At least from these pages, someone will know they’re not alone. That there is someone else out there with the same hang ups about family, love and death.

If you’re interested, you can find my book here: Amnesia

I’m working on another collection of poetry as well. This one will be a little less solemn as it is about learning love and understanding the beauty of our nature. My story still continues and I hope to share more with you guys soon.

As Can Be

I caught you staring at me,

as if I were a thing of beauty

as if these scars didn’t maul

the silk of my skin

as if you weren’t afraid

to freeze in the blizzard

of my gaze,

as if there wasn’t blood

smeared from my chin

to my cheek

as if my lungs weren’t soaked

with the tar

of my angst

I saw you

see me as I was

before hand

you saw me

as the woman

I hoped 

to be

– B. Brown

(art by Aby Mackie)

Just In Case No One Told You…

You are good and lovely, inside and out. Others view you as strong and capable. They see you as smart. Sometimes you doubt the truth of your value. But no matter what, I own the ultimate measure of your worth. Only My opinion matters, and I consider you an irreplaceable treasure. You can be confident […]

via Ultimate Measure — Spoken to Me

(Glitter Fashion Photography, photo courtesy of Pinterest)

This is for You

I woke up sensing

how hard this really is for you,

you had to take an extra five to get out of bed

took three expresso shots instead of two

you almost cried

after spending ten minutes just staring at the screen

fiddling your pen and flipping through notebook pages

you couldn’t get it out, could you?

afraid it would be still born,

afraid it’d be malformed

certain this wasn’t how it was supposed to be done

so that brought you here,

to me

so I can tell you

there’s no right wrong way to do this

there’s only your way

so take an extra hour if you need to

whip it up with no lid if you have to

just don’t forget

that everything that comes from you

is of value

just put something down

anything of you will do

I promise it will

now just will yourself

to follow through

– B. Brown

P.S. please don’t quit on us. we need you

(art courtesy of Pinterest)



they’ll burn
through tombs
as air and light fused

rising from ruin
scaling winds
as earth and rain welded

fiercely prying
through the sky
as melded fire and ice

relentless and brilliant
they’ll outlive the world
to shine for ages

– B. Brown

(image courtesy of Pinterest. it’s cosmic dust from outer space but doesn’t it seem sculpted? i <3 space)

Gitanjali 35 – Rabindranath Tagore, (1861 – 1941)

Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action—
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

– Rabindranath Tagore

(image by Alex DeForest)

In 2018, we’re going to stay woke, driven and kind to ourselves. And eat more veggies. Happy New Years!

Woman of Her Word

when my pages are left

in the wind to fend

for themselves,

after my cursor

has winked itself

into limbo,

during a brawl

of thoughts, fighting

for forefront

before my heart

would utter,

stutter a line

and my eyes

ache to cry,

I deny

it’s hard again

to imagine,

see why I try


then, I know that

I need to

look inside again

I feel that

it’s time

to let go again

I need

that desire

to breathe again

I open

again, unfold

to see again

find a window

a door,

any exit

out of this

limbo, tending

to fend

for myself

when I’ve been

brought to forefront

of His mind

and her eye, it’s why

I need to

cast lines

and pray and hope

for a bite,

and watch it come

swimming in



-B. Brown


(artwork by Loui Jover)




You Are Not Alone…


there are things I wish I would’ve done

and things I once wished I could change.

I made some mistakes along the pubilshing

process that almost made me faint




one day, I will

be able to look back on this and smile, not cringe

because I plunged

into that icy surface with eyes wide open

and it’s mine (no one can take this)

that’s why writing this was a challenge


this book had no remorse,

the things that it required of me

to withdraw to think

to stop to think

to cry it out to think

to apologize to think

to forgive to think

to accept to think

to open to think

think, think, think…

it took so much thinking…

and that brought so much feeling…


I spent a lot of time in the womb of my mind…

I didn’t know what I would find…

that I hadn’t accepted my mother’s


that God had came down

and stared me right in the face,

my face,

my mother’s face

and that shit takes the breath

right out of you…

I didn’t know she possessed

the majority share

of the air I breathed

I searched and scoured recklessly

(blessedly, my mother provided

a passion for writing

a gift that keeps giving

one that keeps me breathing

even from over the horizon)

until I found my true keep,

until I awoke and saw

life/death clearly

and it’s riveting

if not motivating

(although the constant awarness

is still residing, haunting)


I wanted to conclude

Amnesia’s presentation

to provide you

with a more suitable representation

of it’s creation and

I know I’m not the only one struggling with this

I can’t be

this is a universal


that keeps on


you are not alone,

(and I struggled with this too)

I tell you,

you are not alone…


-B. Brown