Alan Browne Poems

Laughing on the out
Crying on the in.

Smiling and, jocular.
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As good and bad have come and gone,
The humble plant continues on.
Bore in the earth it made its way,
From the orient to modern day.
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Grandma always said, 'This too shall pass.' I think of this at three am when the cat is kneading the spare pillow on my bed. If I was to die tonight I think I would like to come back as whiskey. Just as strong and just as necessary.

Potent, yet oozes of strength and class, the way Grandma was. Though if I came back as a cat, that would be just as good, cute and cunning and limber, no matter how far they fall they always land on their feet, sounds ideal.
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e, lay with me

Absolute silence,
I could hear a pin drop.
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Through the skies that I glide,
And to the left of my lay,
Was the bird’s wing, and a colorful gaze.
The oceans of sky were Curtained by clouds,
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The Nettles and Ivy lay hand in hand,
Mingled with the garden flowers.
Kindred and cosy in their patch,
While luring prey to their web.
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Tender as I start my week,
A journey with no ember.
Dreary days be all the same,
Pointless to remember.
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Broken bones, tormented souls,
and everything in between.
Bound to bed, or head filled with dread,
One as bad as the other.
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I met a 22 year old magician today.
He showed me a trick.
He had done nothing but smile at me.
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Graveled paths cutting through the wooden acres,
Gales blowing through oceans of green.
Surrounded by nature and all things pure,
A truly harmonious scene.
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