Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Colleen Brown Dec 2014
The more responsibility I gain,
Further away I want to run.
Life pushes on my shoulders,
And it no longer seems like fun.

My back yearns for the ability
To sprout wings and fly.
Escaping from the chaos within
Is the only way I'll get by.

I'm  scared that this mundane life
Will ultimately  be my torturous end.
How can I escape from this road,
When I can't even see where it bends?
Colleen Brown Oct 2014
When two people, so different in taste, look at each other from across the dance floor, a secret sparks out of their eyes like electric rays of romantic notation. Words have yet to be exchanged, but the slow steps towards one another make time slow to an unearthly crawl. Those dancing are nothing more than hues of grey, for the two ash-stricken lovers cannot see more than those they are attracted to. Hearts pound to a rhythm that can no longer be found within the upbeats of the swaying samba. As she longs to be in his arms, he stops only inches in front, his breath caught in his throat. The increasing amount of love being released from just his simplistic gaze makes her want to run as far as she can. With him of course, though it is not a realistic approach to the turmoil surrounding their troublesome secret. A secret that increases as he gently slides his fingers against her cheek, resting the palm of his hand on the back of her neck. Feeling the contrasting temperatures of the cool evening and her racing heartbeat, her head begins to get foggy with the vision of love that is shortly about to engulf her every fiber. The kiss, so gentle and sweet, brings back the times of innocence that was not thwarted by the interruption of time and changed lives. If only they could run away…
I feel like discussing the movie that inspired this would desensitize the raw emotions behind it. Nevertheless, it is The Great Gatsby. The movie that has my feelings wrapped around every line, regardless of how many times I've seen it.
Colleen Brown Aug 2014
This might not be a poem: more so a realization at most. The complaints I have throughout the day are anything but morose. Walk an hour in another man's shoes, and suddenly life has so much more I could lose. Where could I be in that first step?

I could be standing in the flip flops of a beautiful friend , taking care of four children as a new widow.

I could be in sneakers as the man  selling newspapers in the desert heat day after day.

I could be in a different shoe every day, as a comedian loved by all, who could make everyone laugh, but himself.

I could be in heels in a doctors office, facing the reality of only a few months left.

But I'm not. My shoes are worn, but my heart is not. My days might be long, but my bed is warm. The jobs I work help keep our bills paid and our food plentiful.

I was going to complain today: but when I realized how beautiful today was, I had nothing to say.

Where could you be, in that first step?
Colleen Brown Aug 2014
One Two Three Four Five.
A poem for you to count.
Six Eight Nine Ten...Oops.
Gotta Love the occasional Haiku.
Colleen Brown Jul 2014
March 19, the day you died.
The day a friend had left our side.
The call I got was short and swift.
My head spun, my heart adrift.

"Dead?!" I cried.
How could this be?
He had just left...
...I could still remember his glee.

A wife and children,
All left behind.
His story is enough,
to keep his spirit alive:

A joyful man, friends with all,
He loved his family, and trucked through every haul.
A handsome son, and three beautiful daughters,
All left behind: babes without their father.

He landed on our soil,
The land of the free.
Destined to be in his box,
His final resting memory.
"I'm sorry for your lost"
Just didn't seem right.
I had only lost a friend,
Not a mother, nor a wife.

The funeral came,
So bright and tranquil.
He loved his life,
And so many loved him.
A beautiful day, for all to hear,
Even when the bugle cried.
We listened to it's mournful lullaby.

I'm mad at you, but I'll be okay.
I could never stay mad at that goofy face.
Watch over your family, tuck them in at night,
And I'll keep from saying Good bye,
I'll simply say, See you in the sky.
A close family friend passed a few months ago, and this doesn't even start to cover the emotions since then. He was a radiant beam of sunlight that will never ever be forgotten.
Colleen Brown Dec 2013
A snowy morning brings forth crisp chills.
Kisses goodbye still hang in the air.
Little feet scamper in to seek warmth.
The bell sounds off, the teachers report.

Children are laughing, they are having fun.
Roll call is taken, and then math has begun.
A dark shadow quickly casts upon the walls.
A morning to forget unfolds...

Innocence is youth, they always say.
Yet how can you encompass innocence
When your friends don't go home?
When you see your mom break down?

Children should laugh, children should play
Parents shouldn't have to see them...
Gone forever.

How can one raise small minds in a cruel world?
When lollipops and sugarplums no longer dance.
Children are children, less never forget.
Give them their youth, give them a chance.
While I was not affected personally by the elementary school shooting last year, the thought of a tragedy happening like that to our future family is a nightmare. Rest in Peace to those angels.
Colleen Brown Nov 2013
Woe is me, for I am sad.
The saddest of sad, for the reason being selfish.
I feel myself fading into the background.
I'm not mysterious, I'm not a new and shiny toy. (Person?)
I just blend into the mold of adulthood.

I want to capture life's greatest moments.
I want to make people love with all of their heart.
I want to stop having to defend my opinions.
I simply want to make my mark.

Do I want attention? Or do I want to be a better person?
I'd rather be lazy if I could. Or would I?
I need the motivation to start moving forward.
Shouldn't that motivation be myself?

I'm sick of being lazy. I need to stand strong.
On my own two feet. For my own well-being.

*Life is the longest moment in time that we have.
I need to make it count.
Next page