Derrick C. Brown is a comedian, poet/performer and founder of Write Bloody Publishing. He is the author of several books of poetry and is a popular touring author. He lived outside of Austin, Texas in Elgin, Texas and currently resides in Los Angeles.
Derrick Brown is an American storyteller, poet and publisher who most recently won the Texas Book of The Year for Poetry for his collection, Strange Light. He was born February 7, 1973 in San Francisco, CA. His Father, Cliff Brown, is an Irish, German, Choctaw and Cherokee native of Texas. His Father was a former Air Force Butcher in San Francisco, CA. Cliff Brown is a retired Emu farmer, Naval dockworker/gasketmaker that worked in Long Beach, CA and now lives in Splendora, Texas. His Mother, Nancy Counts is a church counselor from San Francisco, now living in Cypress, California. His parents are divorced. He has a sister and a step-father.
Brown graduated from Pacifica High School in 1991 and became a highly decorated paratrooper for the 82nd Airborne in Ft. Bragg, North Carolina for three years from 1991-1993. He was also trained in combat arms as an Airborne Artilleryman, expert M203 Grenadier, expert Humvee Driver and expert M60 marksman. He is a disabled veteran due to hearing loss from artillery while being enlisted during the First Gulf War. He studied Speech and Debate (Forensics), Playwriting and Broadcast Journalism at Cypress College, Palomar College and Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff Arizona. Prior to beginning his career as a poet and publisher, Brown held numerous odd jobs, including a weatherman (Flagstaff Arizona, 1997), a magician (Knotts Berry Farm, 1988 to 1990) , a singing gondolier (Naples, CA from 2000 to 2004) and a writer and director for a children's show called Kidmo/Invision (1998- 2007).
C. Brown wakes from bed
Brushes his teeth and he combs his head for school
Out the door and down the street
Down to the corner and a bus and some friends that he's supposed to meet
But there, not to his surprise
His friends have gone and they've told C a lie
But you can walk on with me
You don't even need to say a word
You don't have to worry about the others
I C (see) him and he runs up fast
Kicks at the air his friends watch him fall and then laugh
Charlie really likes his friends
But in his heart he knows that sometimes a dog is as good as any man
Trying to do as we should
That doesn't always rhyme with doing what feels good
But you can sit in the grass; it feels good
You don't even need to think a word
You don't have to worry, don't worry
Charlie there is drawing a gun
Right there in the square he's sketched Lucy on the run
Aims his eye, cocks his head
In a cloud of dust, dear old Lucy's gone
Charlie's only trying the golden rule
Draw unto others as they have been drawn to you
And you can walk on home with me
You don't even need to think a word