Monday, April 12, 2021

Riding the Waves








Now I know now why you did what you did­–

drowning your sorrow one shot at a time,

escaping what your heart couldn’t bear;

masking the truth for just a while longer,

– another drink for the pain and the loss

because anything is better than feeling.

Oh, that it would make a difference…

But I am not you;

we can’t hide from the hand that we’re dealt.

I believe the only way past something

is to go through it.

Riding the waves

But I finally understand why

 you did what you did

—because anything is better than feeling


© Ginny Brannan 2021


This refers back to the memories of my dad. Back in the day of my parents, the loss of someone dear was to be surrounded by well-meaning family and friends and a round (or two or three) of drinks to drown one's sorrow. This was brought to mind, because even though I was oh, so young,  I remember watching my dad going through the loss of my mom. I understand the "why" now, but also know there is no escape, only postponement. Doing my best to deal here, to heal here.

Bearing Witness...











Even as you walked your path, 

between this world and the next

you still thought of others.

You gave us an incredible gift, 

bearing the choice 

so we wouldn’t have to.

You, you were always our gift…

and so we send you home to wait for us

and carry you now and always in our hearts.


© Ginny Brannan 2021

Monday, April 5, 2021

One Day at a Time...



















I sit in a vacuum unable to breathe

unable to hold you, to be at your side

not even a glimmer of what lies ahead

I cannot find solace, I can’t find reprieve

while waiting to see just what fate will decide.

 

I can’t seem to get all these thoughts to subside—

you’re not here to hold me, to say “It’s okay.”

They race like a freight train to some unknown stop;

I’ve chosen these strangers with which to confide,

as I struggle to keep all the demons at bay.

 

The world’s upside down, in complete disarray

holding tight to each message, each small ray of hope

white-knuckled, not knowing what will come next.

There’s too many outside forces at play,

I’m treading water,  yet barely afloat.

 

Where will we land? No one can say…

just trying to hold onto one. more. day.



Image by Charlie Parant at Appetite For Photos. Used only with express written permission.

 


Sunday, April 4, 2021

Uncharted

 












My heart lies torn and bleeding,

my body, disemboweled;

my compass no longer points ‘true north.’

I cannot see over the rise ahead

to know what comes next.

You lie there fighting battles we cannot see,

and we are helpless but to watch.

When all else fails, we pray

searching for answers yet to come

functioning on auto-pilot

as we hang on any news.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2021

 

*Image by author

Saturday, April 3, 2021

Flotsam and Jetsam


 












I hold you on the dark side of my heart

that secret place that no one else can see,

drifting with the flotsam and the jetsam

well-hidden in the wreckage and debris.

You and I ill-fated from the start­–

infecting me like some sort of disease

drawn and quartered, then hung out to dry

so different from the outcome I’d perceived.

Yet when the twilight swallows up the day

in the silent midnights we accrue,

pondering the follies of our youth

in that darkness lives a shred of truth…

hiding there where no one else can see

  ever you’ve remained a part of me.

 

© Ginny Brannan 2021


A sonnet, or "something" like it...

Friday, April 2, 2021

But Only If



 










It grows like a cancer 

the darkness keeps spreading

meme by meme, 

thread by thread—

infecting the masses

impeding their values

while passing appraisals

through lies they’ve been fed.

The commandment was given

to love one another

the words of the Prophet

by which we atone.

He walked with the sinners

He spoke to the masses

He never passed judgment

this rage and resentment

  He’d never condone.

There are no exceptions

no hidden clauses

no “just if you’re white

or not gay or not trans”

How narrow the mind

of the self-righteous critic

who swallows in ignorance

what he won’t understand?

Are we being tested

to show our true colors?

I carry a rainbow

your choice is your own.

And I will remember

the voice of the Prophet

whose words and example

become my touchstone.


© Ginny Brannan 2021

 

Some things are not a choice, we are who we are.  Acceptance is a gift that we can give to others, that we receive from others. May we all be accepted and loved.

*Matthew 22:36-40, John 13:34



Thursday, April 1, 2021

NaPoWriMo 2021: An Invitation!












April has landed, the timing is nigh

thirty in thirty, or so we avow;

we sit at our keyboard inspired to write

while hoping our muses will guide us somehow.

Prompted by words or an image or two,

pouring our hearts out in thought and in deed

sharing our secrets, it’s what poets do…

where even the tiniest thought plants a seed.

Free verse or format, now which will it be?

Deliver the goods, perfect spelling be damned!

Get the words down on paper for you all to read

and later, revisions or needed revamps.

April has started, no time to concede!

The poets come out of the woodwork to play:

we rip out our hearts, in black ink we bleed—

insightful, delightful, you really should stay!

 

© Ginny Brannan 2021

 

April is NaPoWriMo: National Poetry Writing Month.  The challenge? To write 30 poems in 30 days. While some writers are dedicated and diligent, others (like me) may lag a bit behind. No matter!! Please read, follow, and enjoy the ride!