Discover You Again

It’s been so long since I’ve seen you
I must know how you’ve been
I feel I should get to know you
We’re not the same as we were way back when

I have so many questions
All to discover who you are
I’m enraptured and torn apart
By this involvement from afar
I’m tethered and attracted
To the soothing sexy voice
The urges that it conjures
Leave me weak without a choice
Imagine if you will a time
That brings us close enough to touch
The feel of fingers upon flesh
Sensations warming mild to much
Blinding is the image
Yet I cannot help but stare
Your mystic power grace and beauty
Are proof that love is worth the dare
So within this living minute
When I look into your eyes
Go well, live strong and loving
Kind and gentle, calm and wise.

Life Goes On

Reveiwing the posts of the last few weeks its seems there's a lot about war and death. That's what's happening in my life right now. My friend D is somewhere in Iraq doing God knows what. My friend M lost his father two days ago. Two of my co-workers lost father (last week) and father-in-law (today). Death is a constant and it's everywhere. I'm not complaining. As amazing as it seems to me I feel quite liberated since the death of my own father last month. I am more observant in my day to day activities. I seem to be accomplishing lots of tasks and new beginnings feel endless all around me. It's my Dad, I'm sure, letting me know that life is good and that there is much to live for. Here's what I've learned since his passing.It's written in the form of advise to M who is quite frazzled after losting his Dad.

You're going to need an extra helping of concentrated strength
To help with all the stuff to be done for this time and through it's length
Take a look at all the loved ones gathering around you, hold them near
They are the essence of what your father was about, all that's dear
Don't forget that still in you is found the proof that he was here
And amongst the accolades and tears to come
the thought of him will be cause for great cheer

For My Father

A prayer a blessing a time to console
A life before us to admire and behold
A vigil of love amid nurturing care
We gather this moment to bond and to share
All that we've garnered and brought to the now
It lifts us and helps in the solace somehow
Let's hold fast to family and tell every friend
The joy of fine living lasts well past its end


Henry Edward Brown 1934-2006

gallery 4 masks

The Tale of the Magi Three

In a forest wild with tangled greens
Grown over centuries of myth and seclusion
Stand high walls of heavy broken stone
Firmly at guard against intrusion

Looming large upon a hill
Dark and daunting ever still
Its haunting charm a fearful chill
Surging in waves that spook the will

As darkness takes this Hallow's Eve
Here be told what makes men grieve
A tale of the wondrous Magi Three
Such lives as these there will ner again be

With holy magic great and grand
They ruled a vast, rich, and diverse land
Their eyes were clear their course was just
Each action they took was done in trust

The nation of folk were quick to praise
Knowing the source of its contented days
Each man was given his due and his way
Each lady was lauded with love for her say

Every farmer’s bounty was vital and green
Every artist's work was valued and seen
To revel in growth and prosperity
Was due to the rule of the Magi Three

Mosos, Atos, and Namos since days of youth
Were chosen to carry a godly light
Their way was joyous, far from uncouth
Until an evil jealousy turned day into night

Time has since then clouded the scorn
Which passed between the Magi Three
But history decrees after this one Hallow's Eve
Bright friends they would never again be

As chaos took hold the castle would roar
Each time with high drama when ripped to the core
Poisonous thoughts and bitter spells
All acts aimed at deeds which propel

So then with condemnation
Scorn and vicious rage
Thus was the start
Of The Hapless Hopeless Age

For one hundred years the land lay in waste
Sadness and despair in each and every place
Spreading a tale of dark disgrace
Such as no remorse can ever replace

Legend tells that within this solemn domain
Still dwells the last of the Magi Three
Imortally bound bewitched and profane
A mysterious presence crying out to be free

Abiding yet in shadowed solitary ways
With an unhealed scar upon his face
Long since past the mystic filled days
Doomed to wander this noble space

All who seek to discover him there
Behind the gray fortress walls
Are doomed to remain within his lair
Listen closely- you'll hear their grim calls.

Life in Wartime

Its possible to watch the warring nations live! Everyday!
It seems the movers and shakers fashioned it this way
The ultimate reality TV is another push button choice
Our view is broadcast unendingly we need never use our voice

The speakers of truth must now grow in number and strength
Gatherings of bright minds must build breadth and length
As images of pain and displeasure appear and reappear
Paths leading to reason must become evermore clear

Time to remove the lock and throw open the gate
We must be the ones to determine our own fate
When the moment comes to choose compassion or hate
Pray the decision to love never comes too late

This latest war has become a war of information waged by religious and capitalist power cells with the people of the world as the ultimate prize to the victor. Every person on the planet is engaged in this very public war on some level, directly or indirectly. It is gorged with battles being fought in the minds of all the people. Among the weapons are video and audio, sight and sound, as well as the weapons that physically kill and maim. We are challenged by these actions to seek out the truth, to mentally and physically take actions of our own to resist bombardment of media bytes and images that are themselves the weapons of mass destruction. If we do not we are easy prey to the barrage of vital updates, reports, news, opinions and deeds. Upon the field of play are the greatest and smallest nations, the foolish and the learned. The entire world has a live feed to all the action. It is an information war like no other.

gallery 3

miami style 7
miami style 12
golden

The Flight of the Dove

Our finest day was
Our darkest hour
We knew little
Of our hidden power
To unite with conviction
In all that we’ve done
A power as vital as the son who
Taught us to give and live as one

We know this now
We see it as true
It flows in our veins
It propels what we do
It is goodness that guides us
And encourage it we must
For in doing so shall all
Our hope we entrust to
A future of bountiful
Spiritual Love
Out of ashes and smoke
Comes the flight of the dove

Invictus by William Ernest Henley

These words have soothed and molded
how my thoughts take shape and form
thus leading to action that is conseqently born
into a world that is wide with open arms
or shuns in varying shouldered degrees
I've learned to trust in what they reveal
closer yet to something in which to believe..

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be,
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced or cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance,
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishment the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captaain of my soul.

If Not for Love/Life of the Party

If Not for Love
If not for love, there could be no joy
There would be no you or me
Imagine no love among girl between boy
Now just how strange that would be
If not in love, the heart coughs and sighs,
Gasping for that which sustains
Give all to love, make reality rise,
Through time it is all that remains

Life of the Party
I chose this wine with love and care
Yet no one will dance with me
I did that decorating over there
Still I’m partnerless and free
What’s the use in having skills
When they’re chided and ignored
Why bother adding frills
When they end up torn and floored
You try and try to do your best
To stand out in an crowd
While all around you whirl the rest
Having a ball and laughing out loud
There’s not a lot of difference
In the urge to smile or cry
I need to understand not wince
At the given reasons why
I’ll not give up the party
Till my dance is over and done
I’ll celebrate hard and hearty
Even if I’m the only one

Worship

This poem was written in memory of my grandmother Mrs Sadie R. Webb who made the church experience fun, educational, and ultimately life changing. I always think of her when I enter any place of worship any where.

As dawn delivers day
I jump quick to your command
In the pull of swarm and sway
I move only by your hand
If I'm to shout or sing or say
I'll convey what you demand
As I travel on this way
I obey where 'ere I stand

It's my priveledge to carry
Everything to you in prayer
I'll not wait in wan nor tarry
As I go to linger there
To your countenance I marry
All my earthly wants I bare
May your light be loud and glary
O'er my soul your love I wear

All through test and tribulation
Be the task robust or small
I tune in to your vibration
And stay prepared to heed your call
Let the ear of every nation
Know the scope of this resolve
My whole selfless dedication
Is my worhship all in all

Welcome Sound

Come upon this circumstance
Given only once to prance
Up inside a moving phrase
Still repose in dazzle daze
Outward feelings left to energize
Knowing less than other wise
Times to be like non before
Simple journeys shore to shore
Moving round to cover all
Wrapped up tight in memory's shawl
Often beats a heart like drum
In early rhythms mouth to thumb
Clearly marked is chance so rare
Those who dance rise one with air
Of such a relished hour as this
Find all my self in blooming bliss
Got up too late to write this down
All that's left is welcome sound

Pride In My City

Pride has always been a word that I've had difficulty in internalizing since moving to NYC and experiencing the sometimes overbearing festivities of the yearly celebrations of the gay community each year. Granted, there is a true divide between the white and non-white camps when it comes to partying and being open and out, yet I have been a willing participant in activities of merit in each.
August 2006 finds me joyfully working with POCC's Pride in the City www.prideinthecity.com. Everywhere in NYC are the signs of the "official" Black Pride events for 2006. If you haven't been to any of the myrid choices in which to participate, then you must get OUT and go. The opportunity to FRATernize and commune with others in the family that is Black Gay NYC could not now be better or more profound. The artistic voices that are our own are rare, rich, powerful, and overwhelmingly beautiful.
At just one event, the Black Out Art Series, I was priviliged to experience the voices and visions of some of my brothers and sisters which influecned me deeply and added to the texture of my life. I've come to realize with this one evening of performance and presentation that I am not only proud to be an artist and black and gay, but I have a unique responsibility to be all these things to the best of my ability. The mere act of conversation takes on added demension when surrounded by and engaged with others who have come together openly. I have a heaven blessed chance to share in the works, wishes, hopes, dreams and accomplishments of my brothers and sisters by just stepping outside my door and that is a gift I won't turn or walk away from.
Power to the people! Power to the pride!

Day of Birth

Birthdays are moments of reflection
Time for fun and inspection
As days go by
Memories fester and fly
Yet beauty remains my protection

T is the place to B

New York is the epicenter of fun. A wonderfly fantastic place to have summer fun is a dance party called T. It's held every Sunday from 4 to midnight. The music is in the tradition of classic house but has a more modern spin. It's at a place called the Ace of Clubs on Great Jones (3rd) St between Broadway and Lafyette. The Club is downstairs beneath a very good restaurant/bar called ACME. Check it out! Especially if you love to dance for more than just a couple of songs. T is for "totally terriffic!"

Something

Something within me churns with constant haste just now. It is the need to express. It is the desire to create. It is the capacity to give. It is the yearning for love. It is the response felt when someone smiles upon me . It is the aching of my soul when my eyes encounter a beautiful face.

Something kneads on the mass of my motor muscle in magical midnight moments. It fills me with questions that have no single answer. It tears and divides me into the parts of myself that are at odds with each other.

Somehow amongst this active adoration I come to the empty canvas with a color full bag of dreams and surely toss the lot upon the fabric of life and...behold!

Trance Dance

Come upon this circumstance
Given only once to prance
Up inside a moving phrase
Still repose in dazle daze
Outward feelings left to energize
Knowing less than other wise
Times to be like none before
Simple journeys shore to shore
Spinning round to cover all
Wrapped up tight in memory's shawl
Often beats a heart like drum
In early rhythms mouth to thumb
Clearly marked is chance so rare
Those who dance rise one with air
Of such a relished hour as this
Is all myself in blooming bliss
Got up too late to write this daown
All that's left is welcome sound

Ready to be Shared

Ever one for caution’s way
I toss the grains of time this day
In hope that they return to play
Touched gently by your enduring sway…

The passion of this creative tide
Swell the shores on which we abide
Such treasures once given we cannot hide
Beauty born yet remains inside…

Ready to be shared with the world!

gallery 2

lux
leslie's flower
sparkle

gallery...

space dancer
colorfield 7
diva eva

New Consciousness Rap II

The road to misshapen identity
Blankets the being inside of me
Spirals toward implosion speedily
Unnerving a self I had not meant to be

Wonderment in all pursuits
Amazingness from stems to flutes
The days behind were stubborn brutes
Bewitchingly conveyed in awesome truths

The challenge of life lies before thee
To confront the mounting inadequacy
When diving deeply in tout de la vie
Freedom negates complacency

Each wayward step reveals a path
For that which is, is not what hath
Been offered up to smoldering wrath
Prepared in cleansing mental bath

Take all the past obscurity
Crash head first into indemnity
Prod social negligence determinedly
Waste no time believing in what you see

Been where sky lay underfoot
Water flowed from flame and soot
Wind restored what was kaput
Upon the brow a brand was put

Open wide the gleaning eye
Revel well in all you spy
Forget the pull of you and I
Release all fear wherein we die

Loving the Man

How can it be
that there is a “we”
that love can infuse all the life that we see
that options allow for us to be free
to live for and give to others totally.
Success is at hand
fortune kisses the brow
vital energy rushes
deep within us just now.
There’s little guessing on plan or intent
Our purpose for being
is clear- to prevent
in our own way
the absence of love
to nurture and multiply
Ours gifts from above.
We’ll love hard like Jesus
In spite of it (them) all
We’ll live for the future
by answering His call.

Ode to the Black Man’s Beauty part 4

A touch, a look, a passing gesture done and then dismissed
A word in conversation, a cheek that’s just been kissed
The memory of a father, the time spent with a friend
The closeness of a lover’s touch in magic hours without end
All these glimpses and expressions of such a beauty, what a joy!
It abounds every passing minute in each man and in each boy
It is the powerful beauty of Black Men
Let’s take a moment and begin again…

Ode to the Black Man’s Beauty part 3

Beautiful shades of brown everywhere
So many varieties that tug and dare
All eyes to turn, to look, to stare
Upon the promise of heaven lurking there
Weak of heart be warned beware
Realize that all is fair in love. Know then
That with a glance a dance begins
Take that chance perhaps to win
Some recognition of comradery or the end
Of solitude in mediocrity as found in
The truthful honest simple beauty of Black Men

Ode to the Black Man’s Beauty part 2

The Black Man’s beauty nestles snuggly in his soul
Ever within reach, ever out control
Brought to life by love all around
It is boundless, unbridled and gleams like a crown

The Black Man’s beauty croons a haunting lament
Ever fusing and adapting with ageless intent
By living in truth and in being himself
He holds fast to wisdom, he gains in wealth

The Black Man’s beauty garners prize after prize
Ever buoyed by the passion clearly glowing in his eyes
Born to indifference and utopian dreams
He is always more, never less than he seems

The Black Man’s beauty can be worn in every style
Ever warming forever unfolding over time or just for a while
Be it youthful exuberance or aged experience of bliss
It is God smiling at us through beauty such as this

Ode to the Black Man’s Beauty part 1

On the street, on the corner, on the block
On the court, on a stage, on the clock
In a pack, in a cell, in a daze
In transition, in the office, in a maze
At the club, at attention, at home
At school, at rest, all alone
Upon arrival, after work, above the law
Under suspicion, in the mix, in the raw
Taking chances, working out, out of control
Up to no good, on the down low, getting old…

Here is and ode to the beauty of Black Men
Found in every part of graciousness and sin
Let us marvel in the richness of colored skin
Upon completion we’ll then celebrate again

Admonitions

Arrive in peace
Dwell in love
Harbor compassion
Within without above
Consider options
Know life at its best
Hold fast to a vision
Against any test
Go over and under
Weigh round and about
Develop intention
Dispel any doubt
Revel in freedom
Extend every hand
Shoulder this mantle
Each of us must demand

Nine to Five

Forced to unravel by the spinning wheel
Its bounty bends me- what’s the deal?
Wretchedly worn this ball and chain
Where’s the satisfaction gained?

Here underneath its lashing force
Each task becomes its past of course
So seldom given nod or praise
Worry strangles winning ways

Years that once seemed bright with hope
Tarnish now beneath the rope
Which, pulled by tensions, grip my throat
As more beasts gather near the moat

Suddenly among the fray
Of clouded dreams dulled by this day
What sparkle is it I should spy
But a glimmer of inspiration in my eye

Gripped now by this chance for even tide
Each effort made propels my stride
It's back into the whirling grind
Reward is felt through peaceful mind

Shout Out to My Thug Bros

Awash in raging negritude
No pain or pissed off attitude
Can justify your being rude
Yet I hear what you have to say

Poised for confrontation
Outside conventional conversation
In roaring against a nation
Your words are aimed this way

Let’s now begin to dialogue
We’ll clear away the blinding fog
Together cleave the fatted hog
That too long has had its day

Instead of blood confusion
We’ll begin a mind transfusion
Offering unified solution
Our journey begins today

“The resemblance is too amazing to ignore…”

Noah’s Arc is my life filtered through a California lens. The people in the show are TV versions of the people that surround me. It is a cleansing hopeful feeling to see your life on a public platform. I work in the arts, and it happens all the time. Life as inspiration for art. Art well modeled after life. Its true. The resemblance is too amazing to ignore so I just had to let you see for your selves how close The Arc's photoplays are to real life. My friends are bonded, and loving, and confused, and beautiful, and joyous. My friends and I live in New York. The pace and bravado is stylishly altered but the vibe is very much the same. I surmise that an SGL man of color in any major city of America today would find the challenges and triumphs to be of a kind. Having enjoyed watching The Arc so very much I look forward to viewing many more episodes that give voice to my way of life and those of my family, friends and loved ones. I challenge the producers and writers to stay as current with their ideas and presentations as the events and issues roll out accross the country. Its all about moving ahead and not backwards isn't it? Keep doing what you are doing with gusto and style. Yours in the Arts.

A Lovers Legend

Listen well to the legend of Angel and Isaac
They loved a mighty love with the devil at their back
Caught between extremes of devotion and death
They dared to be two spirits who share a lover's breath
Born in urban madness, the daily struggle to survive
They lived by outlaw codes in the fight to stay alive
Bred of feuding houses, tried in wars of changing turf
They sought to overcome it all by loving for all its worth

Angel made the choice to forever be with his Isaac
To never let him falter, bend, or slip into a crack
To always be together, to be a fire no one could douse
They devised a plan allowing them togetherness in one house
Though it meant deception, the risk was life or death
They chose to be as one to the very last breath
Too soon came the day when destiny pulled back their mask of lies
Machismo and bravado warrented that surely someone dies

A gun at Angel's ear was held there by his one true love Isaac
Forced to execute the lover he had vowed never to attack
Even in the chaos their eyes met and in this they both knew
That for their love to prosper they knew what they had to do
A bullet from the darkness rendered Angel down and dead
Isaac answered by shooting the murderer and then himself in the head
Thus ensuring that in death they would always be as one
From that moment it was known by all a lovers legend had begun

So now you've heard the sad story of Angel and Isaac
They lived and loved yet could not survive the world's attack
Should there be a lesson to learn from such a tale as this
Maybe it is found in the strength of lovers' bliss
Maybe it is found in the madness born of hate
We may all suffer likewise if our efforts are too late
Too late to stop the violence and intolerance each day
Angel and Isaac have shown us that love is the only way

www.frameline.org/festival/28th/programs/on_the_downlow.html

For Mom...

Springtime and azaleas
Always turn my thoughts to you
Warmth and freshness fill the air
The way you always do
You’ve nurtured me from seed to plant
I’ve not to wonder why
Your gifts are fragrant, gentle, and soft
Enough to fill the sky
Blooms, colors, sunlight, growth
The source of life arise
All these things lead back to you
They issue from your eyes
Spring comes only once each year
While you live (give) it every day
It’s in the thought of your fulfilling love
That I live in work and play

I know how to kill.
The lessons and instructions have been a daily part of my life all my life.
Killing is the world in which I live. It is the culture that bids me to give
more and more to suffering and to harm. The movies I see,
the books I read, the words I speak- all drip with the fervor
to commit meaningful acts of violence. It is a constant urging
to shape ever sharper blades of harm.

Sitting in a meeting the topic turns to shades of death
An icy fog of melancholy clings to every breath
Riding on the metro, riders shrug and chug in fear
Eyes darting to each bundled stranger standing so very near

The how and why that I should kill is broadcast nonstop.
This information is readily available in a multitude of methods,
All studied and tried. There are plans, rules, strategies, and lifestyle
models that, in detail, give guidance to the ways of warfare and strife.

Fact, fiction, and fantasy gently prod all my senses for fresh kill.
Mentors nurture every nuance making sure I feel the thrill.
Games of chance and simple phrases promote my duty to destroy.
Selfish personal gratification teaches me to “get the toy.”

Yet, with death all around me, tugging snuggly at my throat,
I am innately bound by the truth of life. I realize that to kill
means my own death.
Were I to kill so then would I die.
Life is the only truth, one to be embellished and fortified.

Ultimately I disavow my imbedded instruction
I refute my inherited claim
I turn from death and destruction
To celebrate creation again and again.

werx manifesto

Action, go, going, moving, making a path, a way, a route by which
to tread the path, the way, the road, the mountain, the journey.
Unimpeded, held back by no thing, compelled onward by energy, life, spirit.
Beauty nudges me, leads, and charms one's duties to liberation and release.
Truth is the guide taking us nearer the heights of unconditional Love.
Compassion arbiters our legacies, holding us back from the little death of fear.
A life devoted to relinquishing discord and to the soothing of tarnished souls.
We can ask for no more than what we give to the world.

Give life.

bboywerx