How Still the Strings

 

Sits the guitar upon its stand

awaiting player's gentle hand

to strum the chords and coax the songs

knowing well how it responds.

In silence now, how still the strings,

and yet, your words are echoing...

no one who’s loved is ever gone

in each of us, their song lives on.

 

We weren’t that close, you and I.

Not really, not in the scheme of things.

Though we knew each other all our lives,

you were always someone who

skated on the outskirts of my existence:

small town, same schools, mutual friends.

Eventually we both moved away

moving onward and outward to live life.

We would bump into each other

on those occasions when we were called back

to relive our high school memories;

or in those moments of mutual celebration or loss.

I never told you how much your kind words meant

during my own loss; how they felt like a warm arm 

around my shoulder; a gentle reminder 

that even in distance we are not alone.

No, we really weren’t that close, 

but in a sense you’ve always been there

somewhere on the edge, on the periphery.

Two kids who shared a certain kinship...

 

and I am better for the knowing of you.

© Ginny (Karpinski) Brannan 2024

Godspeed, my friend...

In the "Here and Now"

You have no idea of the dark places I’ve been

how it took all I have to crawl out of them

I pray you never have to deal, never feel

such loss. But then we all have felt it, haven’t we?

In one way, or another, we all know the cost.

I hear your ‘sorrys,’ your apologies, 
your “I don’t know what I’d ever dos.”

All I know is we put one foot in front of the other.

And we endure.  And we get through.

Don’t mistake my quietness for sadness,

nor my laughter for indifference.

Life moves on and so do we.

We learn to smile more, to hug more. to share our hearts more.

Because when given the choice to curl up in a corner

and close out the world, or to live, 

I will take ‘life’ every time.

I don’t know what lies around the next bend, 

but I know what I have, 

and I know who I am.

And for now, that's enough! 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

Meting My Needs

 

I carry so much inside of this heart

sometimes I feel it will burst.

I am not patient; ruminating anxiously,

watching, wondering what holds the key?

And I do my best to keep moving forward

pondering if second-chances

are based in reality, or if they’re a myth

that we tell ourselves to keep on keepin’ on.

Joy is gleaned in all of  the small moments.

Hope carried on the fringes of those moments,.

But the light that we that seek,

the love that we reach for,

isn’t always as forthcoming.

We may feel its warmth from time to time,

a will-o-the wisp that rests for a heartbeat

then moves on, leaving us wanting for more.

It’s hard to find stability in an unstable world,

to feel confidence when nothing is sure.

Our want for companionship seems impossible to obtain,

but the need to find love, to give love, to be loved still remains.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

*Meting = measuring

 

Festering

 

You’re caught up in all of the stories you’re told

you watch every day as the falsehoods unfold

there’s no turning back and you will not concede

must stick to the plan now, there is no retreat

 

The barrage of deceit is your one recompense

streamed on a loop that doesn’t make sense

while you share fabrications you barely believe,

to admit you are wrong would accede to defeat

 

Contradictions and "fictions" mount by the score;

each new day bringing dozens more–

your mind’s lost in some kind of atrophy

while you wallow in ignorance, blissfully

 

And you can’t give it up and you won’t give in

to deny your support is a brazen sin

submerging yourself in hypocrisy

while trading out kindness for bigotry.

 

So we march to a place we did not foresee

full of unrestrained hate and brutality

fraught in our fears and uncertainty

inside this contentious reality.

 

How does one admit that the trail they chose

is tainted, as slowly their souls decompose

in a casket of misplaced morality

decaying inside of their own piety

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

Inside the Cadence of Friendship

 

The date, once set, is sacrosanct;

we need this time together,

this gentle reminder of who we are.

where we’ve come from —

that despite all we’ve been through

we are still here.

The ties that bind are many and varied,

but the love? That is our constant.

We are healed in each other’s presence,

made whole again by our stories and laughter

by our words, by music, by camaraderie.

Within this haven of kinship

in the company of those

who have seen our worse, know our best, 

and like us in spite of ourselves,

we are safe to speak of our dreams,

of our hopes and desires,

of our worries and fears—

free to be ourselves.

And it is in the cadence of our friendship that we shine,

carrying each other’s light within us

until we meet again.

 

© GB 2024

 

Top photo: Google Images

Bottom photo by author.

Sing It Loud!

 

I’ve always been the quiet one, the observer,

happy to bury my voice in the crowd;

not wanting to draw too much attention

not daring to express myself out loud.

Not brave to speak of my actual feelings

content to let all others shine,

I took to heart your “Don’t make waves”

till everything I said was filtered

ever with that thought in mind.

But comes a time when voices matter

no matter how off-tune we sing

it’s not the quality of sound

but the honesty of which we bring

So shout out from the highest rooftops

make your voice heard in that crowd

even if we don’t sing well

we can do our best to sing it “loud.”

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

Image from Google Images. Multiple sources listed, unable to pin down to give credit to just one.

 

A New "Hope"

With each word uttered,

I watch him diminish and fade.

His voice becoming white noise

–like so many others, whose self-proclaimed

 self-importance dissipates.

Fleeting. 

A brief glimmer.  A will-o-wisp. 

A passing ghost ship in the night.

How long is hate sustainable? 

How long can all the lies be denied?

The country awakens from a deep sleep. 

Hope takes hold.

Like a train, it picks up speed. 

Like an avalanche, a force of nature

sweeping up the undecided in its path.

Incomparable. 

Unstoppable. 

Its beauty reflected in the faces of all races,

stunning to silence the hardcore racists.

Denial and dissonance no longer holding sway.

Hope.

Can you feel it?

And, more importantly,

can you believe it?

Anger holds no place here..

Bigotry holds no place here.

The orange veil has been lifted. We see the little man

behind the curtain for who he is,

All "smoke and mirrors"

There is no magic. There is no power.

We, we the people, hold the power, don’tcha know? 

It’s been inside us all along!

 © Ginny Brannan