Thursday, August 22, 2019

Who Watches the Watchers

Who watches the watchers who watch from afar?
Who polices the ones who are near?
Who upholds the law while the lawmakers sleep?
Who’s guarding the door that’s ajar?

How can a president dictate the rules
to favor just folks like himself–
ignoring the congress, while senate bows down
and taking the country for fools?

We sit and observe trying to follow what’s right
but the playbook is torn and redacted,
Tell me are we to wait while the circus debates,
while democracy falls in our sight?

Could be that this plan was in place all along
to take down our walls from within;
to weaken our ties with false alibis
while denying there’s anything wrong.

The eunuchs in senate are silent at best
and at worse they are part of his scheming
to break down the law, to flail us till raw,
right now this is more than a test.

We need to address this before it’s too late
not wait as more laws are unwritten,
call a lie for a lie, stop the denial
stop debating as he spews his hatred.

Who watches the watchers who watch from within
aren’t there laws put in place for this reason?
Let’s call out the liar, just stop the denial...
The infraction?  Why, that would be ‘treason.’

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Thursday, August 15, 2019


I’ve forgotten what it’s like
to feel the sun upon my face
to smell the earth after a storm
to hear the crickets singing 
underneath a crescent moon…
I’ve forgotten what it is to eat
a meal in my own home,
to not be always on the run
to not feel so alone.
Be careful what you wish for
or it may come to be…
I never, ever wished for this,
it’s nothing I'd conceive.
Time grows ever shorter
in our road from here to there,
it’s hard to reconstruct our lives
when this world’s in disrepair.
We wallow in some limbo
and have more than paid our dues
this never-ending road we’re on
is tiring, in truth.
Don’t know where we’re going to land
—or if we’ll land alone,
so I hold you in this moment
and pray you'll soon be home.

© Ginny Brannan 2019

Friday, August 2, 2019

Grasping at Straws

Hope is elusive thing…
it sprints ahead of us
never quite in our grasp;
we see its glimmer in the distance
and wonder if it truly exists
or if it is just an illusion...
and yet, we are compelled to follow
  because sometimes it's all we've got.

© Ginny Brannan 2019