Sunday, August 26, 2018


Pound the world with your lies,
your avant-garde tries at distraction;
your predilection for chaos, the joy
you take watching others crumble:
there’s nothing humble about you.

How you take satisfaction—
throwing insults, no retraction:
you live in denial, just file it away.
Spreading the hypocrisy, dismantling democracy,
shifting the blame in this game that you play.

You claim no collusion while stirring confusion
at best you’re delusional,  spreading the fear.
We see through the hoax of your mirrors and smoke,
each story you’re spinning seems more absurd
your followers unswayed as they hang on each word.

You no longer hide that you’re trying to divide us
and we’re left to wonder “Who pulls the strings?”
Spreading derision with each repetition,
while faking the words to the song that you sing.
You’re good at complaining, better at blaming
but what will remain of those lies that you’ve spun?
The tales that you’re spinning will be your unpinning,
the web that you’ve woven is coming undone.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Image: Charlie Parant Appetite for Photos  Used with expressed written permission.

Saturday, August 25, 2018

Keep On Keepin’ On…

There’s a certain age when young turns old
when mind locks closed
when forward thought no longer progresses…
when the train stops at the station
and lingers until the wheels rust
and the engine seizes.
refuse to take a seat on this ride to nowhere.
Life has more to offer than being stuck
in a room with only one view.
There are stories to hear, points to ponder,
discussions to share…
there are paths to wander
  and so many people to get to know
—perhaps too many for just one lifetime.

We all have choices to make, we can
keep moving forward until our very last breath.
  Or we can rust on the tracks. 

What's your pleasure?

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Image: Google Images, Old Abandoned Railroad Equipment on YouTube

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Pointing into the Wind

The seasons are turning, winds are a-churning,
we do what we do, keep on doing—
holding tight to the reins just trying to maintain
as the turn of the tide keeps accruing.
It is so inane how we carry our pain
taught that nothing is gained in the sharing,
so we hold it inside till the protons collide,
paralyzed to the present impairing.
Darkness approaches, the shadows encroaching,
self-loathing and doubt notwithstanding;
it’s hard to succeed, interruptions impede,
this duress wasn’t part of our planning.
And no one can hear when you try to be clear
'bout demands superseding supplier.
Still sadder for us that the ill pay the cost
as small puddle becomes a quagmire.
Overwhelmed by commands and the snide reprimands,
just a cog in the wheel of  progression;
how many replays until changes are made
at the whim of some admin's discretion?
So we do what we do just trying to get through,
drawing hard from the lessons we're learning,
work ethics aside we confirm our reply,
soon the stem of this tide will be turning.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Image: Google Images from Pinterest

Monday, August 20, 2018

Running the Gauntlet

There is palpable pain in your words 
an aching that rises from the soul
reflected in the brevity
  of a single thought shared.
I don’t need to know the cause
to recognize the weight that you carry
—for I, too, know pain.
Sometimes there are no words
to right the unfairness of it all…
sometimes we can only offer ourselves…
hoping it helps to know
that someone else is listening
and you are not alone.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Friday, August 17, 2018

Makin’ Us ‘Feel’

From the bottom of your heart
and the depth of your soul
rose the voice of the goddess—
words that would echo
crossing genres and generations
with tunes that would move us.
There wasn’t an artist
that wasn’t inspired
because you made us “feel.”
A warrior who kept the faith
not just another link in the chain—
you taught us to demand r.e.s.p.e.c.t.
always; whenever, wherever it was due.
You, yes YOU, you made us “feel”
your words, your voice, your soul;
you blew away the mold
your music made us whole.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Honoring Aretha whose music spanned my generation
bringing rhythm and soul to our lives.

Inspired by and paraphrased from her words and music:
Natural Woman
I Knew You Were Waiting for Me
Chain of Fools

Monday, August 13, 2018

Trucking with "Heart"

Mile markers tick by as time suspends
on this endless road from here to there.
Carcasses of whitetails and strips of black wall
litter the shoulders while the vultures soar
overhead in anticipation of dinner.
We pass big rigs, too numerous to count,
everyone on their way to somewhere else.
Traffic slows as gawkers rubberneck a semi pulled
over ahead, flames shooting from a locked wheel.
Driver fumbles the cab for an extinguisher—too late.
We hear the tire “POP” as we pass by.
We pass another truck; traffic slows in our lane
and he passes us. Now his lane slows and we
are side-by-side. The words “Make-A-Wish”
catch our attention. Names, too numerous to count,
encircle the words and cover the side
and we conclude that these are the children
who 'got' their wishes; for many, their last.
Catching the driver’s eye, I point to the names,
mouth the words “Thank you,” and give a big
thumbs up. He smiles, waves back, and is left
somewhere in the slower traffic behind us.
And me? My heart is filled; renewed by this reminder
there is still much kindness this world, after all!

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Eight hours into our “6-1/2 hour trip” from Massachusetts to Carlisle, PA on 8/09/18, while stuck in rush hour traffic near Harrisburg, we passed this truck. The date we saw was current, 2018 being the 17thyear they’ve done this. Anyone who works to put a smile on some child’s face, to give a family a lovely memory to hold onto, is okay in my book!!

My personal thanks to all who volunteer and fundraise for the Make-A-Wish foundation and other such charities for the children. My young cousin was gifted with a trip for her little boy before he passed, and I know how much it meant to them.

More on this particular Make-A-Wish convoy can be found here: