This stray amongst the lions, singing
Songs about the motions, while he
Shuffles on his feet, and dreams of
Birds and trains and oceans.
Inside a cage of pens and desks, his
Mind a whirlwind blowing, and his
Instinct rarely showing that there's
No real way of knowing. Be-
Neath the towering eyes of stone, he'll
Charge forth into worlds unknown. And
Maybe he'll make us all so very proud.

The jewel within the junkpile, reading
Classic works of old, and telling
Stories of a life she dreams on
Starry nights so cold. She
Takes a subtle gesture, turns it
To a work of art, and then she'll
Take a few steps backwards, turn, and
Then she shall depart. Be-
Tween two realms of parapets, she
Takes her time, but still forgets to
Return to the heavens she is from.

A seething mass of paper, screaming
Mindless riddling tricks, bent on
Giving you your fix, of heady
Sciences, for kicks. They share a
Bleak appraise of life, but still
Together it's alright, because
There's nothing they can't face, if they just
Shine a little light. Be-
Mused and disillusioned glances, and
Gaily executed dances. The
World just fades to white, and all is well.

A satin mix of music, and an
Air of discontent, disguising
All who can't repent and left to
Pick their cold descent. She
Strokes aside her hair and puts her
Hands around your waist, before you
Narrow up the space and dance to-
Gether, face to face.
Alone without a single care, the
World is left to stop and stare; and
Rain falls from the stars in darkest skies.

He stumbles round his words, and offers
Meaningless remarks, which don't il-
Luminate the dark as well as
How he set his mark. An
Awkward, crowded scene conspires to
Rid him of his dream, but still he
Doesn't let it seem as though his
Nature doesn't gleam. A-
Lone with just a pocketbook, he
Takes his turn, but doesn't look to
See if she has found her way back home.

He carries his emotions to a
Private place he knows, where the
Jokers never go, and all the
People walk below. She
Meets him at the bar, but doesn't
Take a seat beside, because she
Doesn't like this ride, and so her
Feelings are denied. He
Stares into her ashen eyes, that
Earthy depth that never lies; she
Sits and plays a tune for all to hear.

Is love what we make it out to be
             when we cling to it out of desperation
     fall all over it in forgetfulness
          drink too deeply and grow drunk on its richness
      
  brass is the heart that is mistaken for gold
                  functional but misleading

Is love what we want it to be
      when we ache in
                  fond recollection

Flawless
We like to think
our minds and their creations
can only be described as such, can
only be compared to perfection, machine-
made fabric and glass and hugs and love all
wrapped in cellophane and shipped (free of charge)
to Tahiti and Cozumel and other exotic places well-known
for their supposed perfection with brightly-lit, carpeted floors

                                                               ­                                            But our tendencies
                                                                ­                                           Mislead us

It is our flaws that define beauty when true heart is lost among neon
advertisements promising change and retribution only to deliver
the last things you'd expect, the last things anyone would
want: a remote-controlled vacuum, a light-up fish, a
sock that chills your foot rather than warm it in
the night. What a joke, what a sad turn in the
progression of our society. Flaws are and will
always be prominent parts of our lives with
good sound reason backing up this fact
It all comes down to whether you can
come to terms with the reality of
your situation and the little
scratches in your self-
image or whether
you will remain
content to fall
endlessly
into a
lie

When mountains are between me

And goals I must achieve

I have the strength to equal

How strongly I believe


However great the challenge

The evidence will prove

A dream with hope and shovels

Will make the mountain move


Copyright Louis Brown

.I remember the way you looked
.You looked to me with blushing eyes and extended smiles
-And I remember when you took my hand.
.You held it in your own as we stood on linoleum tiles

-I remember the way you felt-
.Like a refreshing cool wind on a hot summer's day
And I remember how you surrounded me with love
.But like the wind, was so quick to blow away

I remember how you left-
Sort of short and in a rush.
And I remember how you lied to me so much.
You kept your sadness quiet like a hush.