5 Poems by Adam Levon Brown

Love Becomes My Name

The crucifix that has become
My breath speaks to me
In waves of hellos

I cry to the skies,
But receive only rain

I yearn for Sun,
But shadows fall upon me

When the fires of Heaven
And Hell seek me, do I dare
Run? Or do I stand?

The love, the loss, the grief,
The healing, the pain, the happiness

I grasp the ethereal and combine
It with hues of the paintbrush reality

The depth of his artistry
Speaks to me in waves of goodbyes

Dream Extinguished

And fire was his name,
As I only knew him
From my dreams

His breath seemed
To seep into me
Like holy thorns
Made for letting

I cried with him
In my hands,
The only breath
Left being my own

My dream ended
And then he was gone

And then I finally
Realized, that Death
Cries too


Trauma

Missing pieces
Remain lost,
and are mourned
as stolen possessions.

Indents are made
On my soul as I search
My mind for a time
Forgotten.

Drifting through the ocean
Of consciousness, needles
Strike in discordant melodies.

What is forgotten may
never be reclaimed

Playing with Fire

Setting fire to memories
always leaves me with ashen
Hands And a smile on my face.

I love the way the flames
dance along the edges
Of serendipity, only to
end up in paradoxical enigmas.

When avarice becomes virtue,
I have to start a new fire within
to use as a guide for my hopes
and dreams.

When the clock strikes 12,
the fires will consume me
in a finale of light versus Dark.


They Say that when you Die in a Dream

that you automatically
wake up because
the brain doesn't know
how to process death

What if the spirit
coexists with
this mechanism
of neurons and synapses,
and collects this information
to huddle warmth
into the bones of life?

I died in a dream today,
I was standing outside
of my old college waiting
for my Dad to pick me up

A momentary memory
washed away when I heard
Ginsberg's voice reading
parts of, "America"

I saw the flesh disappear
from his bones as he was talking.

Are dreams concerts
of the soul, split between myth
and reality, begging for change?

If so, do they grasp
infinity within their nascent
hands and squeeze until powdered
rumination remains?

I asked this to a cat,
and received the answer,
"Breath escapes so trees feel useful
in this wasteland of lies"

I then awoke, visibly shaken
to the many mirrors
within my mind.

Clenching my fists in defeat,
in defeat, in defeat


Bionote

Adam Levon Brown is an Award-winning poet, Author of 38 collections of poetry, and a mental health advocate/sufferer. His work has been published over 320 times in numerous literary publications. He won the 2019 Blue Nib Poetry Chapbook Award and was the sole judge for the 2019 Into the Void Magazine Poetry Contest. He was thrice shortlisted for the Erbacce Prize for Poetry. He also had the honor of taking part in the Tupelo Press 30/30 challenge and was a reader for the 2020 Firecracker Awards hosted by CLMP. He enjoys petting his cat, Peaches, and reading Philosophy books.