Friday, October 13, 2017

In a Nutshell

We cannot let our fears take hold
that threaten now to paralyze
to eat away at who we are—
from those who’ve traded out their soul
for living out a life bazaar.
The moment that we realize
each stop and start, each interruption
devised to keep the truth at bay;
meant to divide and polarize,
the repetition to hold sway.
Smoke and mirrors for corruption
from leaders who would dummy down;
there’s so much more than meets the eye:
with plans to take healthcare reductions,
bold-faced lies on tax deduction,
and votes on women’s reproduction—
each new derision ‘systemized.’

It seems this ship has run aground
in shallow seas and rocky shoals,
overcome by waves of hate.
But even kings can come uncrowned
when their thoughts become unsound.
And so we must assess our goals—
call bullies out for what they are
and listen to that inner voice
that holds our path and keeps us whole.
For each of us, we have a choice—
and even if we do not know
the course that history will take,
we must hold to that spark of truth,
and never cede to undertow,
standing ground for what’s at stake.

The simplest of rules apply:
Let your conscience be your guide
find the truth inside each ‘lie’
Trust inner voice to recognize,
to see through cleverest disguise…
and though you may be criticized,
never take the compromise.


© Ginny Brannan 2017

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Bringing Down Goliath

The news crests in waves
its burden grows,
its burgeoning weight unfolds
as the story is told
 again and again.
New, yet old, we’ve been here before…
the victims, the heroes, the rescues…
and the underlying, the incident defining,
the never-ending question—
        “Why?”
What is the common thread
that weaves through these events?
Columbine, Aurora, Sandy Hook
Virginia Tech, Miami, Las Vegas
“Guns don’t kill people, people do.”
“If you outlaw guns, only outlaws will have guns”
Did our forefathers foresee automatic weaponry
when they constitutional-ized the right
to “Keep and bear arms?”
How many innocents must be lost?
How many children must die?
How many husbands, wives, fathers, mothers,
brothers, sisters, friends, loved ones?

If now is NOT the time to address this, then when?

Tired of the “bought and paid for’s“
sweeping it under the rug.
This isn’t about the rights of the hunters
to keep their rifles—though the NRA
will make surely make it seem that way.
It is about the ease at which anyone
with money and an i.d. can by a gun.
It is about how one person can amass
an arsenal, an armory, and go on a shooting spree—
while there is no accountability,
no central data base, no red flag  
to track the would-be crazies.
“The people have rights.”
What about the rights of all citizens
to go to school, to go to church,
to go out for an evening,
without fear of never returning home again?

Accountability starts with us—
 you and me— speaking out.
If enough Davids take on Goliath
he will fall,
and maybe, just maybe, mass shootings
will cease to be so commonplace,
maybe, just maybe, we can feel safe again,
and maybe, just maybe,  we won’t have to hear the words
“the deadliest mass shooting in modern U.S. history”
   again.

© Ginny Brannan 2017 

Image: Bierberg, conceptart.org
Full credit to Bierberg who conceptualized the perfect image of a modern day Goliath. Link with image, above.



Thursday, September 21, 2017

Late September

Image: Charlie Parant Appetite for Photos

















Time hides between the second hands
while evening takes the hinterlands;
the treetops bask in orange glow
as twilight falls upon the land.

Their shadows dance, simpatico;
as daylight fades we watch them grow;
while Autumn sings her ripened tune
and summer bedlam starts to slow.

And through the trees, a harvest moon
now peaks through shroud of cloud cocoon
ever soft, her afterglow
whispers “Winter’s coming soon.”

As late day sky turns indigo
the cawing of a lonely crow
reminding us it’s time to go;
...reminds again, it's time to go.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

*Image taken by Charlie Parant and used here with expressed written permission from photographer.

Sunday, September 10, 2017

The Time Thief

Another year has come and gone
how quick the days fly past
ever forward time moves on
nothing ever lasts

The secret of “forever young”
is not just youthful looks;
it’s in the friendships that we forge,
the ‘chapters’ of our book.

So dwell not on what isn’t done
and give yourself reprieve—
look instead from whence you’ve come
and all that you’ve achieved!

© GB 2017














A wee thought in honor of a dear friend's birthday.

Wednesday, September 6, 2017

Still Searching for Answers













I have lifted my eyes to the heavens to pray
trying to renew the faith I once felt;
coming to find at the end of the day
that life as I know it is centered on doubt.
How can a God sanction such anger and hate,
the loss of a parent to such a young child;
the illness and pain that never abates…
too many questions left unreconciled.

We thank God for all of the good things that come,
but who takes the blame for the unanswered prayer?
Time intercedes until we become numb—
stuck in this place between hope and despair.

I believe there are angels who wander among us:
in the friend who just senses when you need to talk;
in the kindness of strangers when we are in crisis,
who lift and support us when we cannot walk.

Life lessons learned have hardened this heart;
still God bless the ones who can truly believe.
Blind faith without proof is really an art;
it’s in love and kindness I’ll find my reprieve.
 
Still I ponder the words that we heard in our youth:
to pray, to have faith that our voice will heard;
but have come to acknowledge this as my truth—
my divinity’s found helping those here on earth.

© Ginny Brannan 2017


“God helps those who help themselves.”
“Actions speak louder than words.”
 origin: 409 BC  Sophocles (before Christianity) from Wikipedia:
— “No good ever comes of leisure purposeless, and heaven ne’er helps men who will not act.”

Saturday, September 2, 2017

Displaced












Hope floats in little boats
through flooded streets and avenues
while silent cries rise in our throats

A factory goes up in smoke;
this life they knew now turned askew
their hope afloat in little boats.

The news folk capture every quote;
each sound bite shared for all to view—
while silent cries rise in our throats.

The charities all self-promote,
with daring clips of those rescued
floating past in little boats.

For leadership, the day was rote:
they paused a moment, then withdrew;
the silent cries rose in our throats.

Across the globe the world will note
the ones who stood and made it through;
their hope afloat in little boats
while silent cries rose in their throats.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

The aftermath of Hurricane Harvey















Sunday, August 27, 2017

In the Shadow of the Night King

From heated debates venting so much hate,
temperatures rise; before our eyes
a storm rolls in; we’re at the beginning
of bigger things. Who could have imagined
this turn of the tides: whitewater churning—
every day now spent “unlearning”
the truth as we knew it? History shows that
we’ve been here before…hard to ignore
how it repeats, how it depletes our energy.
Once more drained, the power remains—
with whom you say? On any given day
we’re being slammed, completely hammered
with lies and innuendo. Who has the truth?
It’s been lost at a cost we cannot grasp.
When shit starts at the top and rolls downhill
the mirrors go up to reflect the swill
that we’ve become. It isn’t pretty
When we ourselves get caught in the heat
then Evil Incarnate’s plan is complete
Ever further from middle ground
we wait for the “other side” to fall down.
When common sense itself rescinds
we divide to be conquered from within.
Brother to brother, friend to friend
that’s how a civil war begins.
Have we been played from beginning to end?
The climate is changing as leadership wanes
no respect in the masses, no political gains
stagnant, repugnant, recalcitrant too
how sad, indeed… What can we do?
No strong enough leader to rally behind
would it be surprising to see an uprising?
With daily inciting the Devil’s enticing us;
will we be caught up in his little game?
When every day promises more of the same.
We’ve stepped back into the Twilight Zone
where blatant hatred thought unknown
marches in the streets again—
everyone loses, no on wins.
So “savvy up” people, look around
only we can make the change that’s needed.
We see the writing on the wall,
how long before the warning’s heeded?

© Ginny Brannan 2017