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Best Poems Written by Lyon Brave

Below are the all-time best Lyon Brave poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

Redneck Saw a Black Girl

Racial slurs fly in Michigan like footballs. 
I'm not supposed to point the finger at white women,
but white women who enjoy NASCAR, and mass 
quantities of alcohol. can be pretty racists and homophobic, 
This white woman said, "What did God say when he made 
the first black man? "Damn, I burnt one." 

Some people can lighten the mood right before a race-riot
breaks out by telling racists jokes. On the roof 
of a very tall building are four men; one is asian, 
one is mexican, one is black, and the last one is white. 

The asian walks to the ledge and says, 
"This is for all my people" and jumps off the roof.
Next, the mexican walks to the ledge and also says, 
"This is for all my people" and then he jumps off the roof.
Next is the black guy's turn. The black guy walks 
to the ledge and says, "This is for all my people" 
and then throws the white guy off the roof. 

See that's funny. We get really funny things 
because of our differences. We do have to learn 
to laugh, but more importantly appreciate ourselves..
Without color the world would be pretty grey.
This seems pretty obvious, but doesn't stop people
from killing each other. The world wouldn't 
even be grey without color because grey is a color. 

They say the blind can't lead the blind,
which brings me to my next joke.
How do you blindfold a Chinese person? 
Put floss over their eyes. 

I shouldn't have to spell out the obvious, or fight
for tolerance. It's getting late and my eyes 
are turning red from all the jokes. Racism is
really bad comedy. it's like listening to a really bad laugh
that slowly drives a man insane. Don't even get me
started on sexism, which is just a form of stupidity. 

I just don't like stupid people. I don't like when stupid
looks me in the eyes because it's ugly.Racists and sexists 
must have brain cancer or some devastating mental illness,
which causes them to get mad when Mexicans don't mow
the grass or confused when black people don't like fried chicken.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

He Banned Chairs

HE BANNED CHAIRS

Looks like we will sit on the floor.
There is a new leader		      with a big boat to flaunt.
When we move outside there are crosses along the road. 

Scare tactic.
	He’s loaded with guns and an atomic twister.
Everyone will be off guard when he imitates nature.

	That’s how we got the last flood.
He has come to kill us all. 
	This is a pretty lively waiting room.

Deflate his ego and you will get shot.
	Then you only have two options
be quiet or loud. 

Faith over reason
	Bring guns and a reason to smile
the situation is going to get messy.

Don’t ask or tell
          I will
He placed people
        In a box
            
Politics are a control ritual, good
	for confusing the public.
It’s not about bloodshed. Business

men use violence because it’s visual.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

Ask the Magic Eight Ball

ASK THE MAGIC EIGHT BALL

Tell me the truth
Ask again. They say
Time travels full speed ahead.
I’m in love with the girl across the street.

Perhaps, try again. One more time 
for the sake of magic give me a miracle
a fast speed boat zipping across the water.
Sailors can be sexy. I have to get a cute girl
what she wants. That’s how I win. In the end

I fish alone, whistling on a dock. L is for Loser.
O is for Obvious failure. V is for Victory. I get
back up after face planting on my bike. No
I don’t stand a chance. There will be another girl 
to kiss and call doll-face. Ask again later. It’s later.

I’m impatient and lonely. If I drink one more
beer my belly will bulge. Give me a time capsule
with my name on it. Call me, somebody. Please
save me. I’m not asking for much. Eight ball says
ask again later. Tell me the truth, am I too fat.
Vision blurred, spinning, everything’s faster
changing, roller-coaster to hell. I want my soul back.

Throw me a life vest, a ray of hope, discard previous 
outlook. Tell me some good news. Will she miss me
if I float my sorrows in the lake were we first kissed.
Answer: Yes, unload the barrel. E is for Every
reason we exist, carry on. You are happy deep down.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

New Opinions

Not to die or to perish or to fall off a cliff 
Not to disappear from the hearts of others
Not to drowned, stuck in a submarine 
like a can of tuna. I never want to reek of tuna
or reek of cigarettes. I don't want to party
so hard I end up in jail, eating nutri-loaf.
Nutri-loaf is supposed to be nutritious
but it taste like pig-guts mixed with sawdust. 

Not to end up on the news because some racist
murdered me in cold blood. They could kill me
because i'm gay, because i'm black, because
I do the right thing and have progressive opinions.
I don't want to get in a fight with a half-goat, 
half-woman creature at a bar, but tyrannies 
are so prepared to fight. I swear all tyrannies 
carry pepper-spray and brass knuckles, which is why
I want to be friends with these people.

Do you know what an Ass Assassin is? 
It's a gay man just like a Shit Stabber 
is a gay man. Lesbians don't really 
have anything that funny to be called. 
Some people  call them Bean Flickers, 
but that only makes sense if they are Mexican.

Everything is so mixed up these days. 
Some people would say life is like a box 
of chocolates. You never know what you are
going to get. You might get herpes or syphilis
Pray to god you don't get AIDS, but that's not
as bad as it used to be.It's worse to get audited 
by the IRS. I don't expect much out of life, 
but i hope to get better health insurance
and maybe if i am real lucky a girlfriend.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

Black Magic

BLACK MAGIC

You work like temptation.
Souls like yours produce money and smoke.
Your laugh is a trigger for gun shots,
a whisper for promises never kept.

I remember when you played the piano
horrible and tricked me to pay for it.
You were the thunder scaring children
in the dark, voice a shadow never there.

Dear Mister Black Magic, you took out the sun
and the zombies cheered for you with worship. 
Who are those that follow you, proud of path?

My control slipped under the butter of my fingers.
A cut started to grow in my skin. The next day 
it started to heal. Mother Nature learned my listen.
Teach me to walk unnoticed. My roar is louder 
than a lions. We are inside. Keep it down.

This is not a jungle. Those teeth are too big 
for this environment. Learn another lesson
about the value of an object. 

Scratching somebody’s back isn’t worth gold.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

Answering An Abstract

ANSWERING AN ABSTRACT
 
do you trust the world not to fall on you?
 
i’m standing on the world, i have to trust
myself not to drop. i’m an implosion of doom
enjoying expressions like good grief, my structure
is closer to collapsing because the bolts unloosen,
thinking my thoughts are unique, sounding

like a dead man, the one who invented
the atomic bomb to protect the world from Nazis
and orange mist, didn’t work of course
nobody laughs at my jokes, wife thinks
my penis is small and wants a threesome
with the neighbor who steals my newspaper,

the sun is dying, learned about it in fifth grade
along with putting a condom on and long division,
a little too late if you ask me, and everybody
dislikes the idea i might want to pray or learn
Korean, my life is a parachute that won’t open

i’m going down and not on my wife
people call me crude, saying my behavior
is for shock value, i like sitting naked
in my living room with the windows open
clothes are itchy, socks have a tendency
to make my feet smell automatically,

cleanliness is next to godliness and i
need all the god i can muster, why i
sing hymns because i hear they like music
up there more than talking, conversations
in chitchat sounds like static in an oyster,

can’t know for sure i recognize the world
have to assume i don’t, ignorant of the cosmos
and my own capacity for greatness, clouds
could be my thoughts, trees could be my limps
sun could be my soul, and even if the world
falls i’d have to go with it, and how’d i know
i was dropping when i would give up the ghost

before we land at the end of time because we are
booming through the millenniums and it takes
a long time to get to a floor so bottomless.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

The Ghost In Music

The Ghost In Music

I'm dying all the time. 
I sit in a car and an Indian girl's
ghost appears next to me. She is
holding John Lennon's scalp. 

I don't know how she knows i'm a Beatles's fan.
Maybe it's because we are all Beatles's fans. 

I wonder if i would be offended
if she had Chuck Berry's scalp
Would i see it as a hate crime. 

i'm dying all the time. The only 
way i'm not dying is if i'm playing music
but then the ghost come. Cash comes
and asks if the ghost in music is alive.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

What Is Time Capsule

WHAT IS TIME CAPSULE

I am sixteen stealing my father’s cigarettes.
Learning an independent thought is not valued.

Turn the attention spin. This is a kissing game. 
Pucker up. This is going to be a disaster. 

A smooth whistle, I don’t think he will disapprove
if I drowned until there is a prince saving me.

Hold back all emotion or it will be dark dawn at noon
A whiskey fight because I keep telling people I’m fine.

Truth spin, whose turn to be in charge, give meaning
create order. It’s your turn to shine Stardust. 

Humdrum routine	bicycle backwards	time skips and erases
An old tear	            heart breaks the weather like rain. 

I’m getting too vague. Slow down to specific detail. 
They used to call me, evil twin, Medusa, four eyes.

I need something good	a new jacket. 	Bookkeeper 
teach me how to live like an open eyed swan.

People tell me I’m not looking or listening. I’m overwhelmed.	
Deep sob	Let’s celebrate		     A sunny day

My warts are ugly and I want them 		         to go away.
Let go of that Anger. Don’t get prepared for a scrap so quick.

I’m a young bastard that really likes Bob Dylan.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

Black On My Skin Dream

Charcoal covering my flesh, my bones
In my dream, I am a gorilla, I am a chimpanzee,
I am hanging upside down in the New York
City Zoo, picking off the ticks on others
and being ignored by humans, the ones
who come with food and hold the keys
to my freedom, the end of my display.

My skin is painted on black.
I want to wash it off, but the color
works like a deep rooted stain on the carpet.
Some dirt just won’t rinse off no matter
how many tricks grandma can perform
with lemon and baking soda. My whole

body is becoming like a rusted tuba on the third
floor of a creepy farmhouse. Everyone is too
afraid to come up and put their lips on me.
I want to be a really good song about freedom
but my penitentiary comes in a shallow form
of indifference and neglect like a baby left in
the bath water long enough for its skin to prune.

Nobody gives a damn about my skin. I become something
like bad memory because of it. Not in the way you forget
but in the way everything comes out in bad dreams
you try to forget upon wake. Grandma says the next
morning, kissing my forehead, handing me pancakes

You are beautiful in the moments nobody notices
like a butterfly laughing with the crickets on a drop
of salt water straight from god’s tears. I heard
the snores turn to yelling, screaming, crying
the apes are judging me and I don’t feel woman.

Give anything for my hair to grow and flow straight
Sick of being called Medusa with the snakes and stone stare.
My grand baby, howling all night, get off me snakes
I am no ape. Get those eyes off of me. I am no stone
cold killer. Can’t you see I’d give anything to be
different, to be a rainbow, to be that white woman
who flips her hair in the sun to get a key to her freedom.

Details | Lyon Brave Poem

The Purest Knowledge

Is preparing us for the day we die.
I understand it’s a gorgeous day outside.

Change is not an illusion.
The basic substance is water.
Opposites create each other.

We start chained in this cave facing forward.
Some turn around so something new can exist.

Potential energy is a battery. 
There are no absolutes. In theory
this is a guess or leap of faith.

We all face the same issues
an increase of population. 

Return home through the aid of others.
Our enemies are close and swear to take revenge.
This is the same dialect as the ancient Greeks. 

It is the right of an individual to reject society.
The trick is to be carefree and wise.