Sentry

    In Edvard Munch's painting, The Scream, eyes
    are grouped as discs ? almost rotund arches,
    much as suns breaking over an eclipsed wall.
    Hollows, jittery the bridge a creamed escape
    careening the soul madly backward
    a pastel gathering sky -
    water rivulets where two solitary, graven figures
    seem indulging a flaccid, breaking stream.

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

Currency

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Ponchontas

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Regalia

Paul Cameron Brown, Simple Poetry

Clandestine Operation

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.

Eyes Inside

There's cadence
a real movement
to the worlds
the gaze inside
a flicker of
your eyes.

Paul Cameron Brown

Mirage

    The intense focus of light
    but pointillism,
    into this juncture bits of light
    surround rough, inverted sky -
    dawn is their message
    unfurled about
    the alumni apparatus
    of incensed eyes
    and whispered sun.

    The heavy mirage of dots,
    landscape locked
    Seurat, a frieze of summer heat
    choking water lilies -
    the sun as a crystal ship
    adrift across
    bedlam-sponsored
    random dots.

Paul Cameron Brown

Illuminaire

    Elfin & gold bug,
    genie in the
    twilight of a cave.

    Virgin On The Rocks
    - Da Vinci's painting -
    aura light seeping toward
    sun-lit crack of day,
    the Master's Mona Lisa
    in the Louvre
    raptured,
    luminescence amid aging pigment
    steeping about rapt multitude.

    Betwixt pit & pendulum,
    another canvas -
    Da Vinci in a beatific pose
    (warm light of the room),
    gentle finger pointing upward,
    a puzzled crowd
    with nowhere to see.

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

Lithuanian Dolls /Consulate Front

    These eyes of dolls seem leaden stones
    not canisters of the Faith
    but cannon-balls engraved
    in tome-like stares so much
    waxen shapes, these dust cloths
    & spidery webs.

    Dolls with eyes stare
    lidless & forlorn
    such eyes are cracks
    minden shapes or basement eves
    hogans of the human form.
    I'm interested in the priapic
    silence of such dolls - their
    indolent aura in time
    one long amber twilight
    & the results are in
    the shadows have produced twins
    ...hazy silhouettes rough-housing
    in the dark, come passing headlights
    although the stampede of noises
    affects nought.

    Ticker-tape & collage
    in quick thick barrage
    th...

Paul Cameron Brown

The Sentry

    We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew,
    And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
    Hammered on top, but never quite burst through.
    Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime
    Kept slush waist high, that rising hour by hour,
    Choked up the steps too thick with clay to climb.
    What murk of air remained stank old, and sour
    With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men
    Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den,
    If not their corpses. . . .
                                There we herded from the blast
    Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last.
    Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles.
    And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping
    And splashing in the flood, deluging muck--<...

Wilfred Edward Salter Owen