Broken Umbrella

Under broken umbrella I huddle,

poor shelter from this bitter storm…

Acid words rain 

scouring raw emotions,

eroding, undermining

until all that remains

are underpinnings

and floating debris

of the once

solid pier

that was

‘us’

Sadness and anger
hammer barrier walls

Berms of resolve dissolve,

grain
by
grain.

Pain floods in;

salt stings my face

as nothing remains
intact in the wake
of our 

personal

hurricane.

©  Ginny Brannan August 2011

Image: Flickr, Umbrella left behind by Tyler J. Clemens VIII

Shared at Magpie Tales #80. 

Shared at d'Verse Poet's Pub Open Link Night Week 7-- 8/30/11 

Paralyzed (Acrostic)

Sadness by wallflowerinblue/Photobucket

Panic attacks the nerves, tightens the chest,

acid bile rises into back of throat,

respiration comes in shortened bursts;

atrophied muscles are frozen taut--

like rubber bands stretched to limit,

yielding not even to tender touch;

zombie eyes stare into space …

even as I pretend everything is fine, I am

dying slowly in the confines of my own ‘prison.’

©  Ginny Brannan 2011

Shared at d'Verse Poets Pub Open Link Night #8, September 6 

Condemned

Could it be that grace’s fall was preordained and planned...

seduction dwelling dormant in soft shadow of the trees--

one person finding comfort in another’s company,

while wonders of this garden lay awaiting their command.

Did evil slither into heart of female, male’s to find...

blackening the innocence of simple naked form;

forever now remembered for the wrath of Maker’s scorn,

the tempted and the temptress condemning humankind.

© Ginny Brannan August 2011

Internet photo, Google, Images, Adam & Eve

Written for The Gooseberry Garden, a new site for the Jingle Poetry community, for their Poetry Picnic Week 1 challenge: Adam and Eve. 

Sharing at d'Verse Poet's Pub Open Link #6  

Baile Átha Cliath

Black pool

Viking invasion

Brit occupation

evolution, revolution

bullet hole-riddled soul

ancient, urban, modern

U2 rock me;  you, too,

call me, back 
to you

©  Ginny Brannan August 2010      

Image by author

Dublin, Full of youthful exubrance, an amazing city of contrasts. It's history includes Viking, Norman and Anglo invasions and revolution, and it is known for its famous politicians, poets, writers, saints and entertainers. One of my all-time favorite places to visit.  Shared at d'verse Poets Pub, Poetics~Going Urban
Photo: Daniel O'Connell's statue, Dublin~scarred with bullet holes from the 1916 Easter uprising (Anglo-Irish War)  

L’eterna Lotta (La'libertas)

“The Eternal Struggle”


Seeking truth inside veiled darkness 
yet certainty eludes, unfound

unguided ideals run aground--

does answer hide cloaked in silence?

Searching, reaching,

grasping unknowns

hope eternal alludes;

disillusioned to core,

on continuous quest

needing, wanting more

Man’s blindness demands proof profound

for flash and fire, or plague’s infest;

perhaps our lives are just a test

to higher call, or stall earth-bound

Trial, denial

truth inconvertible

perhaps recondite God

awaits discovery

somewhere in our

own subconscious

Per sempa l’antica lotta continua…

Dio e l’uomo, l’uomo contro se stresso

*Translation: 

Forever the ancient struggle continues,

God versus man, man versus himself

©  Ginny Brannan August 2011           

The form is La’libertas, a 22 line (4/6/4/6/2) poetic form created by Laura Lamarca. Stanza rules as follows:

Stanza 1: Rhyme scheme abba, 8 syllables per line

Stanza 2: Free verse, 6 lines

Stanza 3: Rhyme scheme baab, 8 syllables per line

Stanza 4: Free verse, 6 lines

Stanza 5: Couplet, Italian

Sacrifices (Acrostic Dectina Refrain)

She

always

cries before

returning here;

intuitively

feeling jagged sadness,

instinctively reeling, as

closeted pain, unbidden, now

escapes--anguish for the child long gone;

she always cries before returning here.

© Ginny Brannan July 2011

This poetic form is called the Acrostic Dectina, and is a variation the Dectina Refrain, created by Marion Friedenthal. The acrostic portion was added by Philip of Poet Freak. It is a 10-letter word with same first and last letters, which makes up the 10 lines of the poem. The syllable count is 1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/ and 10, 10 being the first 10 syllables (or 4 lines) of the acrostic.


Shared at d'Verse Poet's Pub Open Link Night #4 8/09/11  

Throwing Money Away

We nicknamed him  ‘Sanford’

(remember that old ‘70’s T.V. show?)

a gray-haired man in a rickety truck

with patched-up fenders

and squeaky brakes.

Each weeknight he roams

a different neighborhood.

Sunday night is our turn…

slowly creeping past each house,

scanning trash for hidden treasure

he stops for a broken fan at one house,

a rusty patio chair at another,

and a bunch of wire hangers that

someone threw out down the block…

We had often speculated on this poor man

eking out his living collecting old scraps…

…until we saw him driving around town in his other car:

              a brand-new Mercedes

© Ginny Brannan July 2011

Photo prompt courtesy of Tess Kincaid, Magpie Tales #76