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Best Poems Written by Kirby Browning

Below are the all-time best Kirby Browning poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

Nothing Left To Write

There's nothing left to write.
No more textbook vocabulary to relay your state of mind. 
No more analogies, similes, or metaphors to convince others that your abstract thoughts could ever be compared to concrete concepts. 
No more iambic pentameter to give rhythm to your flat-line emotions, or play-on words to give your conscience a personality. 
No more diction with an optimistic connotation to give negative issues a striking charisma. 

Nothing. 

No more can be written.

Leave it the way it is. Maybe someday it will grow on you.

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

People Watching

I saw people walking through the streets,
As cars lazily rolled down the one lane road.
Pairs holding hands, mothers and sons,
Suited men retiring after a hard day's work.

The awkward side-steps avoiding strollers,
Exchanging waves, exchanging glances.
And gentle brushes past a shoulder,
Dogs on leashes wooed by giggling girls.

I saw a kid in a Giants jersey and sunglasses:
"Hey man, thanks for meeting with me."
He walked up to another guy in pink shorts:
"No problem, I'm glad you feel like you can talk to me."

I saw a crying girl and an angry guy
Who talked in hushed voices laced with sighs and sniffles.
They stood close enough to be lovers,
But distanced themselves as if they were strangers.
"I'm sorry," she said. "No, you're not," he replied.

I saw a guy walking to his car in a frenzy --
Phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder.
He fumbled with his keys; his eyebrows were furrowed.
"Where are you? I'm coming to get you right now."

I was just sitting on the porch, drinking a rum and coke
I sipped my drink as I contributed my silent commentary:
I thought Mr. Sunglasses needed a haircut,
Rolled my eyes at an over-dramatic couple,
Scoffed at the hysterical guy, just too protective of his girlfriend.

I didn't know that the kid in the glasses had just lost a friend to suicide.
Or that the crying girl had just cheated on her fiancee -- 
Two weeks before the wedding.
I didn't know that frenzied guy's sister had called 'cause of a car crash --
Only to find out later that it wasn't so serious.
But neither of us knew that then.

We get as close as we want to people, really.
It's our choice if someone's a nod or a hug,
A friendly smile or a glare, or even a "hello!"
As we walk down the street -- unique, but the same.
It's been said that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover,
And others say that's why the cover's there.

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

My First Cigarette

I saw you from across the room,
Friends dropped your name before.
I wasn't sure if it was too soon,
To make my way to the floor.

Nerves, perhaps, kept me still,
Opportunity filled my eyes.
A secret spilled, a void to fill,
You played tricks on my mind.

I'd imagined before just how it felt,
My fingers on your body.
Would it make me cry or make me melt?
Was it bad if someone caught me?

A spark turns into a burning flame,
Your scent was overwhelming.
It wasn't right, was I to blame?
Expectations, they had failed me.

I ask myself after eight long years,
Why I've stood by your side?
Despite the sickness and the tears,
You've never been denied.

You've overstayed your welcome,
Just go about your way.
I hear the bells and funeral drums,
Only one of us can stay.

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

A Poet

A poet lives to read and write,
Pen and paper, up all night.
Put the words onto a page,
Paint a picture, fix a stage.

Diction, rhymes, analogy,
Content-full, intent-free.
Active mind for two-fold plots
Until ideas fit in their slots.

Words, they have their connotation:
Dark and fear, doves and salvation.
Poets look past what meets the eye,
They make you laugh, they make you cry.

You should feel the tightness of the rope,
Not merely read it's used to choke.
They answer "why," instead of "what,"
Through scribbled notes and red markups.

A poet's work, well-written should
Transport you to the quiet woods.
The trees, they're not just merely green.
They sway to songs that the birds sing.

A poem should be a favorite dish,
A meal that you will hope and wish
To have just moments before you die,
Full-flavored and meant to satisfy.

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

Wading In the Water

I'm wading in the water --
World at my fingertips.
The sun drying out my hair,
Water rolling off my lips.

The world would be like so --
If it were without flaw.
The truth, that's covered from your eyes
Is not like this at all.

I'm sinking down into the depths -- 
The darkness of unknown.
I cannot help but to feel
Confined, so lost, alone.

My head goes under as I sink --
I cannot see my way.
Underneath the water I cannot tell,
Is it night or day?

I reach my hand up to the light -- 
Where black turns into blue.
I search for help, but I find
You ignore my call to you.

I see a dock and I can grab --
A tiny piece of wood.
But as I pull myself to Earth,
It breaks, it does no good.

I'm drowning in the ocean --
And all I see is you.
The way you seem to smile at me,
I must look good in blue.

Details | Kirby Browning Poem

The Tide

The wave are turning and I want 
To pull you from the tide, 
You go under, yet you use
The blue-black water to hide.

What are you hiding from? 
There's nothing to fear in this world.
Don't you want to curl up with me,
In love, tangled and furled?
Don't you want to breathe your last,
In a place you feel serene?
Don't you want to watch your family grow,
Your children reach their dreams?

Your conscience, it takes over.
You want to just lie down.
You want to go in peace and quiet,
Where you can't hear a sound.
It's not a choice between life and death,
But a choice within your mind.
You cannot search for who you are,
If you decide to hide.

I look at you, you look at me,
And it's all so surreal.
The worst is holding onto your soul, 
But, nothing you can feel.

I know you want to touch the bottom,
And surface to the top.
But you're convinced that there is no way,
You'd ever want to stop.

I know you want to break free,
And swim back onto land.
Even though you tell yourself
That you won't stand a chance.

Don't tell me any differently,
I can see it in your eyes.
You want to live, you want to love,
Do it all before you die.

It's not your time to leave this Earth,
And fly into the sky.
Let's get you dry and take you home,
No sorrys or goodbyes.