Wednesday, May 22, 2013

Casting Shadows


“Power resides only where men believe it resides….
…And ofttimes a very small man can cast a very large shadow.”
                      Spoken by Varys, Master of Whispers, to Tyrion Lannister, A Game of Thrones Book 2


Looked down upon and ridiculed from birth
by strangers and by family alike--
their wealth may purchase swords and power too;
yet they could ill explain the likes of you.

Survival hinges on resourceful mind--
you learned the power of words quite early on;
advantages of self-effacing charm;
how quickly clever anecdotes disarm.

Your father rules his kin with iron fist…
unbending--forcing each to play their part;
setting sights on who will win the game
and bring more glory to his family name.

But cleverness is ofttimes hidden deep;
one’s stature and appearance a disguise.
Through life of servitude and forced conformity,
you have survived despite your odd deformity.

Inside Kings Landing blood and incest reign,
but still perhaps the least may come to will rule--
while seven kingdoms fight for righteous king,
we watch this "shadow" hiding in the wing.

©  Ginny Brannan 2013

Tyrion Lannister is a dwarf born into a family of wealth and power. His mother died upon his birth, causing even family to despise him and see him as an outcast. Yet he is still a Lannister, and as such the name must be protected at all costs. Tyrion learned early on that though his height had limitations, his mind did not; and knowledge would be key to his survival. Seen as a fool by many due to his deformity, those on the sidelines of power know that he is much more than he appears to be. Tyrion proves that wit and knowledge can be a mighty allies, and that a small man might cast a large shadow, indeed.

Third poem inspired by George R.R. Martin's series "A Game of Thrones"

Find the first, "Daenery's Song" here.
Find the Second, "Beyond the Wall" here.

Monday, May 20, 2013

The "Little Lions"


















In dark green cloaks with golden helms
they take the field to wield their power,
enduring wind and thundershower,
and rancid heat that overwhelms.

Not much may thwart unwelcome guest…
they sweep en masse o’er hill and plain,
undeterred, these warriors gain
unbounded holds with every quest.

The battle lines are clearly drawn,
they’ve set the groundwork for the blame;
while staunch defenders curse their name,
they reappear, no fear of dawn.

In dark green cloaks with golden helms,
the “little lions” take the field…
tenacious troopers never yield,
while laying claim to each new realm.

© Ginny Brannan 2013

Written for The Mag #169--Image provided by Tess Kincaid. She provides the image, we the story!!
Image: Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #97!

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Where Hope Thrives


Indiscriminate, it
pecks away,
taking toll,
riddles deep-hewn
scars and holes…
somewhat weakened,
still alive
bending, swaying

you survive.

© Ginny Brannan 2013



















Image used with expressed permission
Charlie Parant, Yellow-bellied Sap-Sucker

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Listen for Me


Within the whisper of wind-kissed leaves,
the bright-colored flowers that scatter the fields;
the gentle spring rain, the cool morning dew
you’ll find the love that I send to you.

Walking the beach on warm summer day
in the salt breeze where surf hugs the sand;
or hiking worn paths in cool mountain air
remember me, for I am there.

In kaleidoscope colors that autumn imbues…
brushstrokes of reds and ambers and golds;
as winter’s first snowflakes tickle your cheek,
ever so softly, you’ll hear me speak.

Time is but fleeting; so full of unknowns--
we’re here for a moment,  then we are gone.
Remember these words, for this much is true:
I will live on there inside of you.

© Ginny Brannan 2013


Image taken by author: Rosa rugosa, Maine 2011













Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Fending Storms


We never know when storms may blow,
the devastation till the dawn;
we sort the refuse of our lives,
collect the memories, and move on.

© Ginny Brannan 2013










Written for Lauren, 21 & Nate,17-- who weathered the loss of their mom last year, and now their dad. I have been there, we do survive.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Invisible


Intently seeking confirmation, there’s
no notice taken as poems dissipate behind
veil of disinterest and fade to obscurity.
Intestate, the words choke and die as I
surrender to fate. So few bones thrown
in world of literary validation if one
banks upon comments as affirmation.
Laboring against such obvious disparity,
eclipsed behind all who’ve achieved popularity.

© Ginny Brannan 2013











This was partially inspired by, of all things, the reminder at different sites that after posting, we should read as many poems as we can and share comments. Reciprocation & encouragement. Validation. The question really is, do we write for writing's sake, or is it all about the recognition, the reaction, the number of comments we collect? Written a while ago and sharing tonight for
 a dear friend struggling with similar questions this week. I think we all feel"invisible" at certain times; point being-- to keep going, keep writing, anyway.

Sharing at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #93. C'mon by and check out what others have written!

Friday, April 19, 2013

Carnage


Chaos ensues as
all hell breaks loose;
roiled in bloodbath again.
No one feels secure
as we mourn and abhor, then
gather our thoughts to contend, and
echo as one, “This must end!”

© Ginny Brannan 2013

Written after the Boston Marathon bombings.