Author: Adam Brown

Social trash/introvert posting my thoughts in a style which adheres to poetry in part. Thanks for reading and feel free to share/leave feedback.

Summer days

The alarm sings a song that I do not like.
Mundane and boring still I hear it all the time. 

Outside the dawn choir sings a far finer tune.
Featuring sparrows, finches and blue tits too

A garden view sees two squirrels quarrel
Under a silver birch both flee and climb

Morning passes and now comes noon
To which the sun stands tall with the sky so blue

Majestic and proud, both giggles and barks come from a nearby field.

Good boy and a ladies best friend.

Down the street, the brown gate corner.

Five kids play but first comes numbers.
One turns his back on all the rest though none would know it’s the first of many.

The game begins and goes on and on. It evolves and changes yet on it goes.

The sun goes down.

The sky goes grey

I often think of summer days

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To whose words should I listen

To whose words should I listen I often do ask. The man so embittered by the wrongs from the past. A person with feelings not cold to the core. Just resentful of time for the storm seen once more.

Yet whilst few choose to hear stern warnings outside. A guilt we all share yet still seem to divide. We sow all our seeds in a place they wont grow. Our mind grows more weary as we pass on our woe.

To whose words should I listen when no one is speaking. A silence that shows it’s too late for teaching. Eyes drawn in towards sweet ego boost lights. No morals or heart just a screen that shines bright.

To whose words should I listen when tarnished with fear. The voice of the voiceless drowning in tears.

A meeting in the snow

A meeting in the snow.


As winter bellows with its rage unleashed.
Its dark persona brings forth tearful floods.
Like a storm of snow upon mountains peak.
From which I slip and fall to natures curse

Yet as I lay on beds of new found buds.
So come fragrant whispers, that sound of spring.
I lay there broken, still; a fool in blood.
To which death sits by me and starts to sing

Oh poor boy, have you ever felt so rich?
You lie here now with no clear path.
No dark abyss nor bright light pitch.
Just think on this and all you have.

He rises slowly toward a smiling sun
Death uncanny, laughter faint and work all done.

(ABAB-CDCD-EFEF-GG)


Idea

A poem about a boy who tries to commit suicide and meets death as he lies dying but after listening to deaths surprise and disappointment over his approach to the gift of life he fights to come back to the smiling sun (a loved one) he can see over him.


Themes

Mental health
Suicide
Death
Life
Appreciation
Anger
Health

Prawn curry

Prawn curry
Prawn curry with brown rice and tiger bread.
Coconut milk is added along with ground almonds to thicken sauce before adding the prawns.
Red peppers and tomato paste are added to the pan along with a stock.
A little oil is added to the pan before cooking onions til they soften before adding turmeric, curry powder, chilli flakes, garlic and ginger.

Soundcloud

Letters & notes is now on Soundcloud.

You can hear me reciting a number of my poems here

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