Darkening Green

My mind, rarely with me alone,
parts with energy,
the floor boards scuffed
and landing beams just
roosts big enough for pigeons
on leave from fields
darker for their grain.

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

Metaphor

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Gossamer Threads

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Orange Lichens

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Viewer Mail

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.

Green Angellights

Green angel lights
stream from the willow tree,
in direct symmetrical bearing
three birds are drawn to it.

In gold, soft patches
of light overreach
the earth,
shadows trace ridges
to surround each teak blown colour.

With fakir lowliness,
the throb of water
takes petals from
the sun,
shimmers its passing breath
to a euphony sobbing
in movement.

Paul Cameron Brown

Clippership

    Pausing to see
    light thru chinks
    the corner door
    battered barn floor
    musty webs and pebbled face
    expect shadows from
    flecked dust, yet
    damsel flies
    with doily edge
    blanket the air
    a throaty radiance
    in angel hair
    and stepping stones to
    nearest crevice
    and laddering place.

Paul Cameron Brown

Where

A dark, shadow grey moth
rests along the grim hue of brick,
its spattered orange cream underwings scream a Halloween defiance
to the bleariness of stone and city.

And before each fold of its wings,
there rests beyond all the pale fire
and din of a thousand slow eyed
empires, feeling the seethe
of their existence spent
in a fidgeting cauldron
where mediocrity camps
with her dangerous throne.

Paul Cameron Brown

Trinkets

    My mind a buzz saw,
    wood chips in decapitated thought
    soil chilblained hands

    II
    Cleansing wood,
    the keen smell of sawdust
    - good, raw earth drenching
    the nostril, clean odour
    of nature like my brain,
    a broomstick sweeping
    the coffee pot speaking ...
    bubbles massed in steam
    inchoate in their pensive rivulets.

Paul Cameron Brown

Seaward

Whirl of patterned images,
deep seascape painting
hovering,
rustle, chokecherry
grown in
dark pigmented
stunted cove - animal
growl of pilotless sea,
metallic twinkle of sun
bright, stealing
bitter white
all bird life
rockward;
traces skimming
the intrusion
of pebbly shore,
autumnal night.

Paul Cameron Brown

Candlelight In Black

    The ghosts are marmalade
    thin as rinds across toast
    or the Weeping Willow, whose
    green beard leans,
    crane-like, into a child's
    backyard.

    A Morning Cloak butterfly,
    maroon wet with the paint
    of morning, cat paws
    thin filament leaves
    astride a larder
    of memories.

    Dalliance with the past,
    smoke grey these architects
    of memory
    the privet hedge,
    lone pine tree,
    jet black caterpillar
    poised about a green
    carrot top trigger
    laced in emperor's gold
    like fathoms of the sea
    held ... in quiet repose.

Paul Cameron Brown