Marc D Brown

Marc D Brown is a Yorkshire poet with a less common approach to poetry, a way that has been described as more lyrical and free verse.

Marc has been writing poetry and lyrics since the age of 15, now nearly 35 is currently working on his fourth collection titled ‘CHANGE’ due for release late 2020 – early 2021.

Other collections are  

1. Words of Marc D Brown                            

2. 20Seven      

3. The Lost Art of Self

Map Lines

What gave us the right
to define borders and where they sit?
For the majority
It’s just luck of the draw
we’ve just gotta deal with it.
 
Creating countries, cities, counties, towns and states
Creating divisions, inequality, ignorance and hate.
 
What gave us the right to say
“No Sir, you can’t cross this line”
and “No Madam, you can’t stay here”?
 
What gave us the right to instil such feelings?
Discontent for one another
As easy as breathing
Like we have some privileged unspoken right
To pick and choose
Exerting dominance and might
 
We’re constantly swayed
Advertising, social media, governments
With hidden agendas
Bombings, stabbings, beatings broadcasted
Until intolerance runs through our veins
 
Elected officials and the powers that be
Running a muck
Reigning supreme
Forever making bad decisions
And though we don’t always agree
For some reason we put up with it
Turning the other cheek
 
What gave them the right to so proudly sing?
We do on a daily basis
When ignorance is bliss
And compliance is everything.

Red & Yellow Bricked Town Houses

Red & yellow bricked town houses
Three or four in a row
Over the road from the grey painted council flats
That reek of oppression
On a street that's seen better days
Those kind of streets that everybody knows
 
Weather battered
Rubbish littered
Tarmac punished
Graffiti stained
 
It's hidden in plain sight 
A maze like system
A strange little place
Alley ways & dead ends
I've watched junkies on the hunt
Trying to navigate
 
That school once burned down
That shop was held up at axe point
But I'm just driving through
Doors locked and windows up
Inching along in the traffic
   that all had the same idea
To take this quicker not so scenic route
An urban safari
 
Until we're funnelled out to the river
That sits beyond a ‘T’ junction
At the bottom of this tattered road
 
Turn left or turn right

Tempting as It May Be…

The devils hand weighs heavy
            Upon my shoulder
 
Cold breath on my neck
            Chills me to the core
 
But to be perfectly honest
I see the appeal
            Of anarchy
            Of chaos
 
A revolution against man
A revolution against God

imagine

imagine being punished
for who you are
not for actions or ideologies
But
WHO
YOU
ARE
imagine losing your identity
becoming "another"
becoming a number
a statistic...
imagine being labelled
as something lesser for centuries
only there to take orders
a living human being
with hopes & dreams
used as a workhorse
imagine having to fear for your life
from the people "protecting" you
being profiled
seen as guilty
before you even know what's actually going on
imagine being publicly shamed
in front of a crowd
imagine pleading for your life
imagine crying out for your dead mother
imagine losing control of your bladder
in the middle of the street on camera
imagine someone's bodyweight pressed upon your neck
imagine blacking out
imagine never coming back around
imagine that's how you died
physically oppressed on the ground
 
no matter how much
I try to imagine
and question why?
I'll never fully be able to grasp it.
being a white man
I never will
But I will always try

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