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Best Poems Written by K.T. Brown

Below are the all-time best K.T. Brown poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Curse

How long will this suffrage last?
Painting the dark picture of a darkened past.
My people are supposed to be blessed,
But we are cursed in this foreign land.
My people are supposed to be royalty,
Yet we are slaves.
The seed is supposed to grow higher and higher,
But yet it withers away like a dry flower.
Just accept it, that the curse is with us,
How long will this suffrage last?

If only God’s commandments were kept,
There would be no ignorance or plague,
No death or lost identities,
No religion or slaves.
There wouldn’t be another Egypt
that would take us far away from the motherland.

How long can we survive the curse?
Will it be forever and ever?
Will our beautiful queens continue to receive pain
While baby daddies are the ones to blame?
How about the separation of our families
causing broken homes?
Is it the curse of our ancestor’s blame?

How long will we rely on this oppressive nation?
The king over us that has no regard of our struggle.
Their nation became unstoppable, 
They rose higher and higher.
But my people plundered lower and lower
since the days of old, from slavery to civil rights,
And all them stories untold.
We are the tail but not the head,
We fought for our rights but we still are not equals.
How long will this curse last?
When will the shouts cry, “Free at last!”


This is the curse,
A curse where God has shamed us,
From generation to generation,
Leaving our enemies blameless,
While they steal everything we own
And make it their possession.
Our people are the creators,
Yet it is unknown.

Almost four hundred years
the plagues has risen like a swarm of locusts
Devouring the blessing because of our scattered nation.
We were like the stars in the sky shining,
Until our numbers dwindled
from the slaughter of the beast’s wrath.

If only the ancestors stayed obedient and humble,
Maybe our lives would be a blessing.
We would be living with silver and gold,
But instead we were uprooted
from the land that was promised.


My brothers and sisters wake up!
We are living in a curse.
From poverty to persecution,
Watching death catch more bodies.

Repent and renew your mind and spirit,
Follow His commandments until you reach further,
Back to the motherland that is soon to be promised.
Get out of your ways and you will be covered.
If not, you will continue living the curse.

Details | K.T. Brown Poem

My Voice

My voice is of power
That lifts the oppressed high above the surface
My voice is a weapon 
That destroys the enemy who seeks my destruction
My voice is for the blood that has rained
Pouring down on the people that were slain
My voice is for the ancestors who were enslaved
That is crying to the Father to avenge their persecution
My voice is of praise 
That lifts me high above the mountain top
My voice is for the generation
Who is miseducated and silenced 
Because of the world’s sinful ways
My voice is universal
Which will leave the earth to quake
I express myself through hip-hop and neo-soul
The sound that defines my artistry
Killing rhymes if I have to
Just to show that my spirit won’t break silently
I am resilient 
So there’s no harming me
I articulate the ways of black artistry
My voice is to speak out to my people
So we won’t see another dark day

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Railroad Track

Down the railroad track
Through the countryside of trees
In a luscious place

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Legacy

They say poetry is irrelevant in our generation,
The underground genre’s embracement.
Literature is now a part of the digital age 
Is what they claim it.
They look at today's pop culture 
Which takes most the blame.
I must say there is no shame expressing my game;
To think different is all that I'm saying. 
It's time to prove past generations wrong 
That we still have intelligence.
The dawn of a new age in which we will make it known.
Giving the 21st century of what they want and need.
They say our generation lacks knowledge 
I guess because of our music.
We lack art, we’re too ignorant, 
It's like an empty bottle with no fluids.
Is art truly dead?
That true art that aims for the head?
That art that hits your body and soul,
Would they care to listen to stories untold?
Is it possible that I make myself relevant,
Like past great artists before me?
Making myself known as a future legend for later.
Is it possible to be wise as Solomon 
And use my poetry for inspiration?
Perhaps I can reminisce to Langston Hughes and Maya Angelou
Connecting my poetic style to a Hip Hop basis;
Connecting from my spirit to my Afrocentricity.
Or maybe what I'm saying is a bunch of crap with no persuasion.
Maybe our generation is too dumb, calling us the dumb age.
Screw that…
I'm not dumbing it down because of my complexion.
My verse will come at em hard like I’m flexin’.
I'm way too deep to think small instead I aim for the highest.
I swear I will make my name great because it's more than just art...
It's about legacy.

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When Nightfall Blocks the Sun

What will happen when the moon blocks the sun?
Will humanity come as one
Or will nature take it’s course?
Will we all stand as equals,
Or will one nation triumph under God?
What will happen after the hour strikes?
Maybe the world will witness and
be a part of war, sickness, and poverty.
Or perhaps the world will be under one love.
What will happen in that final hour?
Will the world be in it’s final suffrage,
With billions of lives wiped away from it’s sin?
Or maybe the kings will wise up,
And bring disaster to an end.
What will happen when the moon bloodies the sun?
Tell me what is true.
Is this natural phenomenon the sign of the last days,
Or am I thinking in a foolish craze?

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Porneia

I dare not to enter this zone,
The zone of fantasy that is forbidden.
I’m talking about the forbidden fruit, 
That fruit in which they feed off of.
I must shield my eyes from this zone,
It is perverted and illicit,
Of fornicators who enjoy it for the sport.
These are the fornicators who expose themselves
In front of the cameras,
Through intercourse that is non sacred
Mixed with the pornos, harlots, and homosexuals.

Take a look at the zone of Porneia.
Only a fool will think this is 
A zone ran by pimps,
But he’s nothing but a man whore 
Following old Greek and Roman traditions.
I can’t dig that,
Being a brother 
Of my ancestral entity
And a child of God
Exposing myself within the devils’ game.
I’d rather be my woman’s lover,
Than to be those harlots’ train.
My life is sacred,
Not a pornos who is willing 
To sell my body just to take
Fruits of the land that is stolen.

I see a lot of beauty
Within this zone  
A man’s paradise,
But yet it’s not holy.
She is beautiful 
On the outside,
But within her soul
She feels torture and pain.
I can see her insecurity,
That’s why she doesn't request
For real love.
She feels 
What she is doing is necessary,
So she bends over backwards
To submit herself for the sake 
Of money and fame.

Welcome to Porneia,
The zone 
Where they say where
The money is at.
One of Satan’s dark zones
In which devils call it
The unsacred grounds.
I dare not enter this zone
Because of its immorality
I’d rather be my woman’s sacred lover.
They’re all exposed in front of that camera.
Hoeing around just to get quick dollars.

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Nature's Beauty

Joyous in the calm
Trees and grass of green flirting
With the atmosphere

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Rapid Fire

It’s the heat of the moment
Which ignites into flames
The burning passion
That trickles down your veins
Calling it love
Until the lover deceives you
Passing his blood
While she provides the forbidden fruit
It’s the blazing fire that’s spreading
To eradicate the people still standing
Who carries the burden of slavery and colonization
From Africa to the Americas 

So stand up for the cause
And put out the fire
Until it glows into a small ember
Protect yourselves before the fire ablaze
Turn away from the chaos
That runs through your veins
Don’t grab the fruit 
Like the Serpent gave to Eve
And Eve gave to Adam
For him to bite into it
Or you will get burnt
By a rapid fire

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Darkness and Light

Darkness!
Was the beginning and chaos swarmed around it.
No universe, no beauty to behold,
A sunless space with death taking souls.
It is an essence that Satan and his army of lost entities has engulfed,
Who was thrown out of paradise into a heated world.
Hell is its offspring and chaos is its lover.
Darkness is what the world has embraced,
With violence erupting all over the place,
Like a volcano eruption destroying land’s fate.

I feel the darkness swarming me.
It curses at me and feeds me misery.
It says I ain’t nothing because of my complexion,
It invades my people because of the gangsta perspective.
I see blood raining down my block,
With water masking it as if there were no shots fired,
Hell is like Uncle Sam wanting young fools to join him,
While chaos swarms around the world like a flock of blackbirds.
Death is busy waiting for no man,
Darkness swarms us all.

The light!
Was God’s first spoken word.
The universe became light’s beauty to behold.
Heaven was created through light of God’s love,
With angels rejoicing for their King and all of His creations.
The light is where man was created from the dust,
Through the nostrils God has breathed into.
Life is the essence of light’s bringing,
And peace is like its brother.
Through light there is love.

I feel the light shining above me,
It blesses me giving me high anointing.
It says you are blessed and a king to be,
It awakens my people because the Lord is coming.
I see rivers of flowing waters in my community,
Where people will flourish despite their circumstance,
While Heaven opens up with showering blessings.
Peace is standing still while hatred keeps bickering.
God is over everything, the world power is a fraud.
The light reveals us all.

Details | K.T. Brown Poem

Shade of Your Beauty

Understand that I adore you,

So what your skin is dark, 
you're still lovely.
  Beautiful daughter of Zion,
Your shade is like the breeze of an underbrush,
  Matching my skin of a bronze brown color.
Do not be insecure because of your dark complexion,
  Because your brown skin matches the shade of your beauty.
Throughout life, you had haters that knocked you down
  Calling you ugly and dark, treating you like a shadow;
  To the point you felt low and insecure within your heart.
Tell me, the woman I fell in love with,
When will you get rid of the swarm
and embrace the jewels within your DNA?
When will you unmask the veil?
  And bury the swarm that stings your bosom.