1920's Flicker

    John Dillinger and Baby-Faced Nelson
    in a dream together
    - one shooting holes thru
    theories of his untimely death,
    the other frying in an old-time
    (e) Electric Chair
    with balloons waving, bonbons
    going off, the crowd in a joyous,
    boisterous mood.

    The marquee reads:
    "Public Enemy Number One
    laid to rest in a
    shallow grave as
    gravelly as the heart
    that beat in his stoney chest."

    An adjacent sign noted,
    crime does pay the undertaker
    but other, good-hearted folks
    need look no further than
    the Dempsey-Tunney fight
    to see which has the
    bigger box office draw.

Paul Cameron Brown

Paul Cameron Brown is a Canadian poet known for his extensive work in both poetry and art criticism. Born in western Canada, Brown has had a prolific career in writing, often intertwining themes of human experience and nature. His works have been showcased in various literary magazines and anthologies. With a style that is both reflective and evocative, he has gained recognition not only in Canada but also internationally.

Paul Cameron Brown

High Frequency Draw (High Alert)

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Perhaps

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

In My Books

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Swords And Roses

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Point Spread

    The skull in the box is that of Cornelius A. Burleigh, the first man to be hanged in London, Ontario, August 19, 1830. The public hanging attracted an audience of over 3,000 when the village of London numbered only a few hundred. Because the rope broke, he was hanged twice! The top of the skull was taken on a world tour by Dr. O.S. Fowler, a phrenologist.
    This part of the skull was presented to the Harris family.
    (Eldon House brochure)

    Off memory
    & a dare,
    the grave man
    coming to a bitter end.
    Burleigh, top of his
    skull reminiscent of a laundry cup
    (or toothpaste cap) separated from
    its yellowing, rightful owner.
    No jaws of life here -
    rather vengeance beyond death,
    shellac & varnish twist shoved
    ...

Paul Cameron Brown

Gangland

    A sailor, "tatoo you,"
    the cigarette Players
    with tape-deck playing
    a jaundiced "Yellow Bird",
    Cerveza, Dos Equiis, the
    two horses, in red flame,
    across the label.

    Trolling in a deep sea-trench
    (spinners and chubb),
    the dark night
    a religious procession,
    acolyte stars in hymnal to the wind.

    Across the channel
    a Party Boat
    - the words almost demand capitals
    with actions so diminutive -
    creased laughter "to go" cross the waves
    flicker of lights, siren call
    then a lemon shark strikes the bait
    on anchor reel, Horse-Eyed Jack
    perhaps borrowing the name
    from the Outback -
    think pantomime, enter Wahoo
    and the aesthetic of fear...

Paul Cameron Brown

At The Red Throat

    In youth, Death was
    a puny boy possessing but
    wormy hands & fleshless fingers
    as in Witch Hazel
    or Scrooge's Future Ghost
    - that insipid Evil One
    Hansel so easily outwitted
    in a gingerbread house.

    Time brought increased notoriety.
    Saucy times with a soupçon of respect
    for the artful dodger.
    Givens change, an armful of
    orange lilies, limp & loathsome,
    on a tombstone door
    before trumpets of rain.

    Graven images. Lifeless stone.
    Death became stone.
    Stone empty. The maggot emptiness
    burrowing into chiselled easel and
    the stone-cutter's savage magic.
    Just a bitty stone
    to herald a passing.

    Night-jars.
    Old straw-...

Paul Cameron Brown

Ace Of Spades

    Parable as metaphor -
    profile in hard glint of light,
    buckskin garb
    merging from shadow &
    buckboards -
    sandwiching of memory
    being elbowed
    thru a Deadwood City
    saloon door.

    Noneother.
    Dead Man's Hand.
    Cards strewn,
    last tumbler ...
    chamber on empty.
    Yancy Derringer modelling the
    latest revolver of his namesake,
    in pit & the palm
    bullet in the back
    for Wild Bill, just for a keepsake.

    Treasure-trove for the funeral parlour:
    "they done him up well". Peccadillo as provocation.

Paul Cameron Brown

Dead In Sight Of Fame

    DIED - Early morning of September 5, 1876, and
in the gleaming dawn of "name and fame,"
Hamilton J. Dunbar.

Dead!    Dead!    Dead!
    We thought him ours alone;
And were so proud to see him tread
The rounds of fame, and lift his head
    Where sunlight ever shone;
But now our aching eyes are dim,
And look through tears in vain for him.

Name!    Name!    Name!
    It was his diadem;
Nor ever tarnish-taint of shame
Could dim its luster - like a flame
    Reflected in a gem,
He wears it blazing on his brow
Within the courts of Heaven now.

Tears!    Tears!    Tears!
    Like dews upon the leaf
That bursts at last - from out the years
The blossom of a trust appears
    That blooms above the grief;
And mother, br...

James Whitcomb Riley

Wild Card

    Clayton brothers at the corral,
    its Earp City today
    tumbleweed junction for numerous lives,
    not to mention lies
    swift-draw artists
    encased in a memory of stone
    boots up ...
    with all the forlorn grace of
    being pushed in front
    of a train.

Paul Cameron Brown