"brews" poems
The world's gone mad but my mind is made up.
Time to let ya'll into the darkroom of my mind,
A place where I'm the referee of a poetic world cup.
This is where I am creative even though I'm blind
Don't get me wrong I am not leaving from town.
No more radio or TV saturated with all the sad news,
I have got enough breaking news of my very own...
Breaking to me each and every moment as it brews.
Come and meet the hard drive of my creative doom,
That contains my beautiful and liberated mind.
Welcome to my one bright side I call my darkroom,
It's a place that's so special, I reckon it's one of a kind.
You have to know that I always act blind but I see.
In my mind, I can walk stack naked and levitate.
My mind is where I remain totally black and free.
Come join me set my poetic dial and help me activate,
The code that will outshine any power on this earth.
My mind is where I live and where nobody has access,
Here I can run a poetic marathon without taking a breath,
Call it my playground and intellectual fortress.
My mind is deep, a place of absolute calm and refuge,
Somewhere I will always see as the final frontier.
It is dangerous and toxic like a nuclear centrifuge.
In there, I am all alert and vigilant like a soldier.
My mind is a darkroom where I give birth to new ideas.
It is a vessel and place in which I do magic with letters.
It is my holy land of thoughts, my own creative Judea,
Where each idea is sacred and light as bird feathers.
Welcome to the epicenter of my creative mind.
This is where I turn letters into spoken words
A front line of creativity where no one leaves behind.
Come and see where all words become useful swords.
My mind produces powerful words like some light beams...
Courageous and powerful words for extra motivation.
Spoken Words that will light up people's faded dreams.
Now you know that up in my mind are no limitation,
There exists an enormous capacity of time and space.
Welcome one, welcome all to the darkroom of my mind
Take a seat and be calm, be quiet this is my place
For this here is my personal creative post of command.
www.poemhunter.com/IvanBrookssr
#Vanguard-poetry23
#IvanBrookspoetry
twitter @ivanclappers
@Bassapoet
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
This smile that makes your day...
This undaunted smile that seem to say.
Show me yours too so we both could play,
On a plane where everything is fine...
Everything's okay...
This smile that reaches out to you...
With nothing but invisible arms.
Caresses your eyes and draws you in.
Entices you with the sweetest charms.
Whispers you tales of a brightly lit future;
Where we're trapped in dance with each other...
Supporting...
Leading...
Lifting and,
Seducing one another...
Let the music ring clear,.
Over the thumping of our heartbeats...
Aggressively segmenting, framing the dance into seconds that would elapse.
Like two duelists entranced into committing tender jousts and retreats.
But know that...
This smile screams only lies.
For it is but a routine mask.
So well worn and adequately rehearsed...
You'd never see the need to ask.
Instead you'd just allow yourself be taken,
To a place where the tide gently beats...
Upon the shore our two ailing hearts.
A place where earth and sky would meet.
When in fact,
It hides the turmoil and agitation.
Guarding the storm that brews incessantly.
Continuously threatening
To breach this shared sanctity with me.
A haven would've then be erected.
That very instant we allowed...
This dance of smiles
From time of first contact to the time we bowed.
This smile... Only took a second
To paint a peaceful picture upon my face.
Free from the pressures building behind my pursed lips.
Just take this smile so that in that second,
We could get lost in the promise of a heavenly place...
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
it's getting scarier by the HOUR
OUR world will never see PEACE
PIECE by piece we're overpowered
overpowering us as our fears increase
we sit idle as hatred BREWS
BRUISED by the war torn SCENE
SEEN as only pawns to lose
losing all of our hopes and dreams
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Her hair was long
Down to that place where *** just barely meets back
The place his fingers linger
Every time she says goodbye
The place where two tiny dimples make up for the fact she never smiles
Long like the days he spends
Wondering if she's happy at home
wondering if she's just as good at pretending to be in love
As she is at pretending not to be
Like the time he spends waiting for a sign from her... or of her
Long like her absence in his bed
He hears her laughter in his head
He'd settle for hearing her name
Her hair was thick
Like the way his tongue feels after a midnight pack of camels
She says she doesn't smoke anymore
But she does
Because she says a naked man can't smoke alone
It looks funny
Thick like her thighs
And silky smooth when they graze his stomach
Like his great grandmother's accent
He doesn't understand her but finds comfort in the texture of the syllables
Her hair was strong
Like her conviction
Her determination to stay at home where she belongs
Though she longs to be with him
Strong like the coffee she brews
Because she's too rebellious to measure anything
Coffee grounds or consequences
Like his addiction
His compulsion to reign her in
To keep her in his bed
In his heart
In his head
Her hair is dark
Like her eyes
Black pools that reflect her black heart, rotten soul
Dark like the way she makes love with the lights off
Because then she can make him into anybody
Whoever it is that she wants that day
Dark like that space between waking and dreams
Where everything is mixed up and nothing like it seems
Where he reaches out to touch her and finds only hair
A few strands on his pillowcase to remind him she was there
He finds them everywhere
Last night he found one wrapped around his big toe
He freed himself but found it hard to let it go
She says she hates to wear a ponytail
Like she doesn't want her hair to look like a horse's rear end
And he's just a ******* for letting her go again
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
Over a cup of morning java
Scanning my daily mail
I came upon an advertisement sheet
*That exclaimed in BOLD rainbow pastel*
Grand opening of a store that has everything
On the corner of Daisy and William Tell
The one thing I saw that interested me
Is they were having a back to "60's" Hippie sale
Of course I stopped what it was I was doing
Hopped in my Lexus and left right away
The excitement had my heart all in a flutter
This I guarantee is going to be a good day
They weren't kidding when they said they sold it all
I'd been wandering the store for quite a while
That's when I came to what it was I had come here for
Before me in trippy little colors, the hippie aisle
So I bought me a couple colorful hippies
With my 25% coupon I was able to save
The Hippies even came with a bonus
Fresh cut flowers and Jefferson Airplane tapes
When I got home I showed them to their room
Black light posters and colored beads hung from the door
As luck would have it I bought an Indian hemp rug
From Pier One just the day before
They taught me transcendental meditation
While I taught them both how to bathe
Their lessons broadened the mind
My lessons the nostrils saved
I soon had a groovy little hippie pad
In which organic vegetables and enlightenment grew
We'd sit around crossed legged in a purple haze at night
Playing psychedelic tunes on our Kazoo's
And I was pretty good too! Who Knew!
Yes, a house of happy hippies
Is a happy hippie house indeed
Especially when Wendy Crystal Sky...Yes, that's her name
Brews her famous dandelion tea
I highly recommend the purchase of hippies
I couldn't be any happier with mine
Sure beats the punk rockers I got on close out last year
But that my friend is another tale for another time...
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 6:48 AM UTC
Beneath the surface
Of the dark and mysterious
Ocean crests
There's a disturbance
On the ocean floor
Chaos brews and
My bones quiver
As the wave
Towers overhead
Taunting me
Waves crush my chest
Screams fill my lungs
And salty water
Burns my eyes
I'm whisked away...
Oh God, not again
Just another night
Curled on the floor
Crying oceans
And creating tsunamis
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
At dusk I hang up
a worn blue work
shirt that smells
strongly of love
of dirt of the earth
melancholy, sweat
yesterday's brews
the blues, regret
twenty cigarettes
black breath
of the bone moth
old blood, moon dust
spring pollen, summer
grass, Autumnal ****
winter's cold blast
sea salt and pine needles
mountain laurel, desert air
my dog's hair, I swear
I can't bear the thought
of washing or throwing away
all the stains, the growing pains
the laughter, the sorrows
these history lessons I need
to get me through tomorrow.
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 7:58 AM UTC
I'm your Shiva feel my love
Wear my spirit like a glove
For my Goddess I will melt
Illuminate till I'm felt
In your body brews a storm
*** inside keep you warm
Every inch of you is fascinating
Hold your stare as I'm penetrating
You are divine feel my devotion
Explosive with every motion
From our bodies spills a potion
Lubricating just like lotion
Tasty is your elegance
Choose me make me relevant
To worship every inch of thee
Ravish taste you Spiritually
I am hard..I will grind
Do it fast take my time
Command me do as you wish
Cook for you your favorite dish
On the table or on the floor
Bend you over feel me some more
Seduction tastes a lot like sin
Spoils satisfying like a win
Bodies battle at the core
Spectacular is our ****** war
Pledge allegiance to my Queen
Feel this Shiva in your dreams
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Crush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit
Feeling lit, feeling light, 2 AM, summer night
Hands on the wheel, uhh, **** that
Life for me is just **** and brews
See the hoes flock to you when your name is Q
Am I over-faded? Hell yeah it's true
Turn a beat on, ain't no limit to what I can do
See this Top Dawg in heat, but I'm a **** the world
I'mma be on tunes 'til God re-furls
You sat me down, I'm still tryna get higher
You looked at me stupid when I twisted the fire
Meanwhile my ***** drunk as ****
A ***** ****** up, we all ****** up
You done ****** up, I brought more blunts
Smoke back to up, you ****** know what's up
Too **** high, can't stand myself
I love drunk driving, man I'm something else
Heat on my side, you're more than welcome to melt
I'm 'bout to finish a pound, you're more welcome to help
**** and brews, **** and brews
Life for me is just **** and brews
I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
Yeah, you heard me right, I might **** tonight
Wait hold up, back in this mothafuckin' ***** once again
It's the pretty ********** with a 40 ounce of brew
My ***** Q and we drunker than a *****
We gettin' millis ********** yeah, uh
***** **** and brews, unbelieveable
Got a freak or two, in my vehicle
Got the purple drink, got the yellow drink
Then we mix it up, call it Pikachu
With a little bit of crack, little bit of dope
Little bit of smoke, little coke
Little **** when they on them pills
Little bit of E, little bit of shrooms
Little bit of deuce, what it do, hand on the wheels
And I keep the illest, trillest ******* while I'm swaggin' it
Crush a bit, little bit, that's my pursuit of happiness
If I ****** her once, then I could **** her twice
If I ****** her twice, I might change her life
If I change her life she might hit my ****
We could have a some and we could round it off with three
Her, Mary, and me, I'll keep it strictly G
My philosophy upon living right
***** **** and brews, and head every night
Hope the ***** nice, cause I'mma fight the *****
Beat it down and **** I be clowning with
Black Hippy crew, how swag am I
Be the reason why, she wanna drown my ****
But I soon realized, she was super dry
No paper planes, the Vegas will fly
Don't act surprised, too much Loc inside
Let's get stupid high, to where I can't reply
Love smokin' dope, I won't compromise
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
the day i left for good he wrapped me in an inescapable bear
hug that made me feel like i was
gonna stop breathing in
3
2
1...
we listened to a whole lotta
tom petty which is the reason why
whenever i'm scanning through
the radio on those drives i go on too often
that lead to nowhere and
i hear "refugee" or "free fallin"
i skip.
i read a lot to him and he
always listened to everything i had to say
and the 290th time of the day that i'd say
**** and everytime i said something even remotely
twisted a small smirk would
gradually paint on his lips
and then he'd laugh
and say it was a good thing we loved each other
otherwise he would think i was severely
****** up in the head.
he loved my heart shaped sunglasses
and he said i made him feel
like he was living in a time warp
where it was 1989 every millisecond
of every waking hour of every day
and i loved his eternal youthfulness
that sent fireworks flying through my
central nervous system.
and when he released me from the
wrath of his arms he promised
that we were gonna sit on his
back porch and crack open
some brews at midnight
and tell stories when i came back home.
i miss him more than the sun misses
the moon in the morning light
my partner in crime,
my adrenaline ******
my sagittarius.
-z. vega
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
Upon this wizened, ancient lyre
I'll sing the ballad of the Roses, till I tire
Each one of them a blessing true
Working diligently for the life of every one of you
A true Rose is a beating heart
In which lust for justice bubbles, brews
In Parliament, they call them Labour
But a Rose is anybody whose heart harbours
A love of life and all it's creatures
Considering the workers to be teachers
Imparting the wisdom of their experience
Marx, the most exquisite of their preachers
His words shine bright and cast a light
Upon the path of destiny, he predicts workers delight
But not before the struggle, toil
The quest for righteousness embroils
All human hearts in earnest endeavour
Across the worlds sands and soils
O rustic Roses, I worship and adore you
If you have time, allow me to implore you
To see yourselves the way I see
Creatures of brilliance and majesty
Who devote themselves to the truest fight
For workers wage and workers right
Long may your light shine at me
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
Magic spells
Casting enchantments
Only time tells
If wishes come true
Voodoo hexes
To destroy
What wrecks us
Try the witches brew
Magic genie
Grants three wishes
Do you see
They're all for you
Pixie dust
For extra luck
Because I must
Start anew
Magic wand
Spell book bindings
I'm quite fond
Of loving you
Your drink I mix
Love potion
For a quick fix
To make your heart true
After all the spells
Enchantments
Hexes
Potions
And brews
It seems now
You love me too.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
319
The nearest Dream recedes—unrealized—
The Heaven we chase,
Like the June Bee—before the School Boy,
Invites the Race—
Stoops—to an easy Clover—
Dips—evades—teases—deploys—
Then—to the Royal Clouds
Lifts his light Pinnace—
Heedless of the Boy—
Staring—bewildered—at the mocking sky—
Homesick for steadfast Honey—
Ah, the Bee flies not
That brews that rare variety!
4k
in the dark of night,
i lay down beside you.
outside, the lights cast an intricate show of shadows and silhouettes
oh, to witness such stillness in your company!
but I feel a storm deep within,
something brews and crackles inside my chest, could it be... love?
Aug 31, 2022
Aug 31, 2022 at 7:56 AM UTC
There's spring and there's summer, there's all that's in between
no listless skies of anodyne; now nature flaunts and preens
What beauty fills the hungry eye 'neath a sky of blue, serene
verdant vales soaked in sun, awash in palettes of green
There are pastels that awaken and deep shades that passion brews
created hues that trickle...sprinkled with 'chartreuse'
There's the green of 'asparagus' and that of 'artichokes'
Of 'forest', 'ferns' , of 'moss', a brush of different strokes
Fragrant plants of 'mint', then 'myrtle' and 'green tea'
'Emerald', 'jade' or 'harlequin' and 'malachites' that be
Off creamy shells, just 'pistachio', 'green apples', then of 'pines'
It lies too in 'sap' and 'teal', in 'avocados' and tangy 'lime'
There's green of the 'mantis', in 'jungle', 'hunters' and 'shamrock'
The lithe 'parakeet' fluttering and the lazy sanguine 'croc'
In blessed 'basil', ' pickle', in 'pear', 'olives' in 'bottle green'
'Gourds' and 'peas' that farmers grow in cultivars pristine
'Tis there in 'aqua' and 'seaweed', in the ripple of 'sea green' waves
In 'turtles', 'sea foam', 'anemone' and a 'tropical glistening lake'
From 'laurel green' to an 'army green' , in 'sage' ( a shade of grey )
The color of 'grass' , the murky 'swamp' , hues in array
There's 'neon' and an 'Indian green', a 'Persian' one to mystify
A 'midnight green' to bright 'fluorescent', oh, for green rainbows in the eye
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
Lost in the city lights
Are small palms
Are little feet
Are muddy faces
Of children of a thousand unknown names
Those palms holding a bunch of 5 rupee roses.
And feet scurrying about amongst the traffic signals
Selling their future to wipe your car's windows
And muddy faces serve you
While their childhood
Brews in your cup of chai.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 12:16 PM UTC
In the reserved room built with teenage angst
sat a guitar waiting for a dear friend.
My quick fingers were tentative to touch.
I listened to the chords I brought about—
played a tangle labyrinth. I wish to quit.
Was that a G sharp or a B flat note?
Frustration brews like a furious storm.
I wanted to toss everything away.
This instrument? Not mine. And that is that.
Too embarrassed by my ineptitude.
I loathe guitars! I cannot play them right.
That riff was supposed to be heavy metal.
Not math rock, but it’s enough to settle.
That might change if I use guitar pedals.
Cmon, keep your head high. Let it stay bright.
A friendship with my guitar has begun.
There are bounds I’m still trying not to reach.
And one day, I’ll be good enough to teach
or possess an audience at the beach.
Hey, the guitar is becoming quite fun!
**** metal. I’m a stoner rock artist.
I can play bends, solos, and vibrato.
Look, I even came up with a motto:
to thrive, start with anger in a bottle.
With my advice, you will go the farthest.
My fingers’ pink blush irritates my skin.
Still eager to play. I ignore the sore.
It doesn’t feel like a chore anymore.
This instrument? It’s mine. It led to doors.
It helped me find heaven and become kin.
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 4:39 PM UTC
My inner vision's carrying me
To a boat on quiet seas
To a place where I can be
To a place where I am free
A place of such tranquility.
That little boat's been torn and tossed
In the storm I was so lost!
Then I knew the deadly cost
Satan brews a poison sauce...
Washed away upon the cross.
Now, free of iniquity
The scales washed so I can see
There is no "them" there's only "we"
Jesus died upon the tree
All is calm on port and lee
I have true tranquility.
SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022
Apr 16, 2022
Apr 16, 2022 at 3:29 AM UTC
The cool plush ****
of succulent grass
whispering against
bare ankles.
The verdant smell
of rain pelting
the crusty earth,
loamy fresh.
The piercing tingle
of noon sunshine
on the bald orb
of the shoulder.
The comforting touch
the warm embrace
that soothes
the aching heart.
The energizing aroma
of coffee burbling
brews hope
and inspiration.
My filter, clear and bright
illuminates the night
in waves of bliss
Anchored by the senses
I remember
what brings me
happiness
Aug 15, 2022
Aug 15, 2022 at 3:25 AM UTC
Mountains’ majesty
a cave of amethyst brews
confidence in its own perfection
near the peak peeking into the
crayon colored clouds.
Desire for a moment free from earth
where right above our heads
the world is colorfully candid
through a foggy wine-stained film.
Glossy sun through glossy eyes
entices the mind enough
to lift legs one thousand and two
steps up the mountain
coiling through indigo trees
on turquoise trails until
we pass the purple threshold
where it’s best to pass the time.
Pomegranate lips smile
stretching pomegranate skin
yours tastes like otter pops and ***
mine I imagine is similar
with a hint of bad decisions.
This reality is unrealistically appetizing
contorting trails contort minds
peaking at the sunset so close
I swear we’re almost there.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
it feels like the blood inside my veins is moving like quick dry cement does ten hours after it's poured
simultaneously a storm brews in them
similar to how mom once brewed soup that tasted of distanced family and bile
bile which still resides in a clump at the back of my throat from the last time i said your name
you are he-who-shall-not-be-named since saying your name is as dangerous as saying Voldemort’s
monochromatic colour schemes make up my world, each day either tinted or shaded
usually shaded because I was told that dark colours are slimming and that thought never left my mind
rain smudges all of the pigments together and even my glasses can't correct my vision
i love rain but my rainbows are always brown-black
like those karate belts you had when you lived
or how she used to mix all of her playdoh together
i used to believe that she created the world that way
god i wish i was right.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 3:08 PM UTC
Down here by the Murray River,
where life swims all around;
above and beneath the surface,
in this heat, everything flows —
Beers, BBQs, budgie smugglers and babes in bikinis,
memories bobbing above ground
capturing freedom; post-pandemic and pre-celebrations.
Down by the Murray River,
watching things flow safely and soundly,
birthing new possibilities:
boyfriends, babies, businesses and brews?!
Endless possibilities abound,
prophecies realised; salvation.
Down by the Murray River,
with nature, our souls sing loudly,
simplicity is possible,
trusting and enjoying,
everything is allowed.
Jan 13, 2024
Jan 13, 2024 at 4:28 PM UTC