Otis Brown

Began writing in New York City, received NEA Grants for Performing Arts, and has performed at the Painted Bride and Walt Whitman arts centers in the Philadelphia area.

Light Pole Blues

On the black corner, a pole.
The pole is there to fool people
into thinking there is light.
Itās darker on the corner during the daytime.
The people and the pole are there.
They enjoy each otherās company.
At night the light on the pole does not work.
In the day time the people next to the pole donāt work.
The pole will leave the corner first.

4/5/97

Which Way Is Out

The word over the door said "LIFE" I didnāt even know
where I was until I was eight. Then it was too late to go back.
I still didnāt know who I was, or if Iād see a exit sign.
All signs were negative. All around people checked in
and out unexpectedly like over coffee with a friend
or on a leisurely swim or drive.
But it seemed an endless entanglement.
If it wasnāt one thin, it was everything else.
I was twenty five and wanted to go back
but there were no on and off ramps.
Up in the sky, a bird soared real high,
but I was too confused to use an eye.
I saw nothing I looked at. I looked at nothing I saw.
I knew I thought I knew I what I thought.
All things changed. Life is everything, everything is life.

For Steve and Nam Soo
A ship sails along a wide and varied sea.
Life as a ship goes up and down as it circles
the circumference of circumstance.
Be consistantly concerned with detail, give and love as always.
The time will come when all goes another way,
but you are taller than Liberty Place wider than all thatās at stake.
All battles won along this journey to happiness will be stations
for the train of this blissful matrimonial bond of today
tomorrow and forever.
The morning is dew, mist on a clouded window.
The afternoon is the sun high in the sky of your life.
The evenings are cool, smooth reminders of a conquered day.
Together heart to heart, soul to soul, go forth in unison separately
enjoying this bond.
A mile a second, time will fly, so waste not,
wish not, want not a thing not immediately at hand.
Whiner never win and winners never whine.
Bide thy time with ordeals of value.
Sense your separate, and collective missions,
the terminals of transformations of your inner selves.
Much love, much peace, much speed.

5/20/95