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Best Poems Written by Stacy Brown

Below are the all-time best Stacy Brown poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Stacy Brown Poem

I Promised You This

I love the way her quiet hands always seem

to rouse a feeling of intensity deep inside.

How strong the sensation can be when against my body.

I love the how heartening they are

when I feel so misplaced.

And how infantile they feel even though calloused

Greatly through her trying life.

I love the way her eyes gaze at me.

The way they bypass sheepish smiles and timid looks

And see what I really wish for her to see.

I love how a single look ignites a feeling in me that boils

my soul and melts away the layers

like chocolate in the sun.

I love the way her fair lips sneak across her teeth.

The way they coil in to this ideal smile

that always seems to cause the same outcome in me.

I love when she just barely tastes them while she’s thinking and

how they burn when she tenderly places them on my remains.

I admire how they can say so much with out moving

and with a simple flick can entice so much commotion at once.

I love it when I hear thump-thump

and how it propels her passion for this existence. 

I love how no one person gets the same version of her,

and how it always makes every day unique.

I can even love the childish way it makes her mature

which always appears to make her cry.

I love the way I don’t feel good enough for her some times,

but she always tells me Im perfect.

I love how she makes me cry cause it never bittersweet

and always ends in a smile.

I love how angry she makes me and how she just blows it off

in a joke that we both laugh at later.

In the end I promised you this.

Its not done its not perfect but its for you.

Its my heart. Its everything I love about you,

Its my promise to always fall in love with you every day

And love you always.

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014



Details | Stacy Brown Poem

Diet Coke

She likes the taste of tears in her diet coke

on the sweetest day of defeat

They slide down her cheeks and into

her open can as she sips

Tasting her pain as if it was the first time

knowing it wont be the last

The carbonation almost hides the salty

treat but she knows theyre there

She likes the taste of tears in her diet coke

on the loneliest day of her life

As they slide down her cheeks and into

her open can as she sips

Tasting the loneliness as if it was the first time

knowing it wont be the last

The sugar almost hides the salty

treat but she knows theyre there

She likes the taste of tears in her diet coke

just like a masochist likes pain

And those beautiful smiles she fakes

hides those salty treats

that find theyre way in to her diet coke

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014

Details | Stacy Brown Poem

Klj 12012

A line, 

Maybe a bird

traces its way across

                A canvas of White

Stagnate and panning the landscape

it becomes enamored by 

                the amount of blank space left

 From deep within,

a glow of Green, 

blending with yellow and brown hues,

begins to wick its way 

                across the feathers of the Bird.

 It glides close to the ground and encircles the bushes

the hues begin to passionately fill them in

turning twigs, lightly sketched, in to trees

                 blowing gently in the breeze
 The bird 

then glides up toward the breeze 

catching it,

sweeping back across the canvas 

                to wash its wings clean

 Looking down, a feeling, 

                a muse, 

causes a glow, near its heart this time 

filled with violets blues and just a bit of white 

                begins to wick in to its wings

over flowing, 

it begins to flood across and down the rivers, 

cascading over rocks gently placed 

                by a steady hand

 Catching another breeze 

it dips and turns towards the sky 

allowing the shades of mixed blues to flow gently 

                on to the canvas

 with each flap of its wings 

shapely clouds fade in to strings over tree tops

giving a once clear sky

                life

the bird begins to dance around the newly formed obstacles 

slicing tiny details

giving movement for the flock to 

                glide through

 Content with this the bird, the line, 

                or maybe a lost soul, 

falls in to its place among the sun beams of a perfect day. 

Soar high, little bird, soar high.

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014

Details | Stacy Brown Poem

Conversations With Myself Part 1

What am I doing?
I don’t know what I always do, I always run to this,
it’s like my default setting.
But I’m scared, it’s not familiar any more.
It makes me timid, it’s like looking off the edge.
But it’s different, isn’t it?
Maybe.
There’s nothing beautiful here anymore, is there?
No, there’s not.
Just a cynical criticism of things not even written.
But where did the Beautiful go?
I don’t know for sure.
Maybe it’s just hidden, maybe if I look…
It’s too hard isn’t it?
No, silly, remember, nothings to hard if you put your mind to it.
My mind?
Your mind.
Maybe it is too hard,
Just try stupid, it doesn’t hurt to try, remember?
No, it always hurt when I tried, but I always tried again.
And again, and again, till I didn’t feel it any more.
That’s the spirit, remember.
Why are you pushing this?
Because this is you.
This is me?
You just don’t remember how to unlock the beauty within.
But the beauty’s gone isn’t it.
No. It’s just hidden beneath your stubbornness.
Let Go.
       Just Let Go.

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014

Details | Stacy Brown Poem

Conversations With Myself Part 3

Youre Jaded.

When did you notice?

About 4 years ago.

Did you?

Not till recently,

funny the lies we tell ourselves.

You did come up with some good ones.

Im still on top of my game what are you talkin about.

Stop doing That.

What?

You know what, putting up a front when it gets real.

Its never real.

Who thought the girl who was always on it would finally get jaded.

To be honest, she did it too you.

Thats baggage.

I did it to myself.

Are you sure.

I knew it was bad from the start.

Loves funny like that.

Stop.

Im done, really.

I see it most when I look in the mirror.

The lights still gone isnt it.

Dont talk like that.

You saw the spark right.

Fleeting.

Rememeber how we used to sing that Aerosmith song and swear that would never be you?

How could I forget its screaming in my mind.

That's funny.

If you say so.

Jaded before thirty, was your life that hard?

Probably not,

But with everything Ive been thru can you blame me?

Not really, but theres other people...

Stop.

We dont do that remember,

Everyones different.

True.

But your strong.

I know.

Just jaded for the moment.

We'll call in inspiration,

Soften it.

Dont do that.

Im jaded.

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014



Details | Stacy Brown Poem

Conversations With Myself Part 2

An Addict.

You? no.

well maybe.

Just maybe, Only maybe you think?

Should we go thru the list?

No. Please.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Why are you trying to hide again?

Cause its safe Ive told you this.

Your very stubborn.

Probably my worst attribute.

Stop.

Im an addict.

Here we go again.

Why do you do this to yourself?

I need to face it.

Now?

You really think this is the best time?

No time like the present, why put off till tomorrow what you can do today, if somethings worth doing its worth doing right, get er done, need me to keep going?

No.

So what are you going to do honestly

... Honestly? Me.

Do You? Okay.

We've tried this.

But not like this.

Im different remember.

Trying to unlock the beauty.

Here we go again.

You need to Move on.

It was good.

This is too.

I guess.

 Stupid Addict.

Copyright © Stacy Brown | Year Posted 2014


Book: Reflection on the Important Things