Mourning Song


photo from Pexels by artist cmonphotography


poem by Joshua Brown


There were two smiles
One real and one ironic
I looked in the mirror
And could not tell which

For I smiled as though
I was happy, but childless
And the we was broken
For little Josh... little Josh...

...But I was full grown!
And the Teenager, stripped
From his birthright, kept
Alone from his magic.

Was I singing in the dark
To protect me from wings,
The dark owls watchful?
Or was I mourning light?

Exposed to my own sin
My own judged sentence
The light of freedom
Chained me again, again

For the two little queens
Tasked to my tutelage
Demanded not righteous
But time, and surrender

And I cursed the little Josh
Who gave into the curse
Cast by the witch, wise
To survive rape and wit


You are not brave or kind
You are a sorcerer midwit
Casting weak spells
Wasting sperm cells

You fancy yourself a king
A queenmaker glorious
But like David, run from
Your own seeds rebellion

We are but a mixed race
People without a tribe
And we will not be nomads
For the stars are not ours

And though we are but trolls
Casting about for crumbs
It is ours: not the earth's teats
But its imaginations gaze

And terrorists we will be
To the petty squabbed folks
Who use.
But they will not know it.

For we will not survive
But we will die each day.
And their own eternality
Will be their demise

#poem #poetry #abuse #trauma #childhood #racism #religion #nativeamerican #aleut #tsimshian