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Poems

Timothy Brown Jul 2013
I woke up in a wall-ball court
underneath the Arizona sun.
I was homeless and broke,
hundreds of miles away from where I begun.
No food to eat.  No water to drink
which is a death sentence in that kind of heat.
Just ***** clothes, an empty wallet
and my heartbeat.

It was a quest of love that brought me here.
A short, hispanic woman with red hair.
She was the person I meant when I said "dear"
Honestly, I would have done anything for her on a dare.
Even though being with her made me want to disappear,
when I was without her I was living in despair.

I got off the sweaty concrete
and marched back to the house of cards
we called a home.
I found the apartment
absent of her presence
so to the streets I roamed.
Nothing in my body
but heat cramps and passion
I searched over and under
the whole **** desert I must have combed.

I found her in the same spot we separated from
smoking a cigarette, I think it was a #27.
Laughing and reading but emotionally numb
to my exhaustion. I just turned and walked away ashamed of the man I had become.
Written for a friend
© July 4th, 2013 by Timothy Brown. All rights reserved
Poetic T Jun 2018
I sat on decaying desks of reflection.
       My homework, write a moment
                                of life that meant the most.


But this is a theory of retrospective
       collections, tattered and loosely fitting.
Writing in faded inks of yesterday.


Everything I'd wrote was a failure,
                    never amassing a page of meaning.
I knew I wasn't a graduate of life.

Mostly a D minus in the accomplishments of what
I could have wrote. But instead I just
                   dodged classes and ended up a failure.
Failed to save us,
Failed to save you twice,
Failed to see you needed me,
Now I need you.

Failed to save him,
Failed to understand him,
Failed to keep him alive,
Now I miss him.

I seem to fail more than win,
I let things happen and now I see,
Feeling guilty for so much,
Failed to save a life.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Mourning