"No Soup for You"

 

It was just a little thing,

the way you read my mind–

probably coincidence

or planetary confluence

no reason or no rhyme.

It was just a little thing

how the words took their own meaning

as if you sensed my deepest thoughts

and knew what I was feeling.

It was just a little thing

no truth or consequences

but for a moment it felt real

some universal prescience

and I, the pawn who stumble on

searching for some relevance

holding the last bastion

just to find indifference

provision without sustenance

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023

*Title credit to the TV series "Seinfeld," a quote from the episode called "The Soup Nazi" who demands a strict regimen to order his famous soups. "No soup for you" the retort given if you do not follow his rules.

The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants...

 

Where do your dreams go when they wander free?

Do they settle on one time or place,

or stumble the path of unfamiliarity

where past and present coexist, 

but future is a point far in the distance?

And I wonder when you dream, if you see a face?

Is it someone from long, long ago?

Or someone you might like to know?

Most paths we choose don’t follow set rules

no straight lines to get there from here

filled with twists, turns and bends, forks and dead ends

so we test out the waters, dipping our toes, 

deciding if we should dive in.

Sometimes I dream of someone I’ve known

but often I don’t dream at all,

searching for clarity inside of disparity

it’s no wonder we pause or forestall—

so I’ll ask, noncommittally, without any bias:

    Where do your fantasies fall?

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023

When I Was Loved

 

When I was loved I never had any fear

strength and security surrounded me

gray days seemed brighter, this heart lighter

with the knowledge that I was not alone

 

Time gives, but then it takes away

all the things we thought would last,

slowly swallowing the past

and we adapt as best we can...

as we wait in the wings for the last curtain call

and that starless night that consumes us all

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023

For Me, Alone

There is a song that I can hear

the words have faded, not as clear

as in my youth, yet there’s a truth,

    and I am listening.

 

I remember when we called it ours

our stories written in each line

as I awaken with the dawn

they disappear, until they're gone

 

An empty heart looks for release

inside the memories it cleaves

as it searches for reprive,  

without goodbye, without reply

 

A writer cannot write a song

nor can they fill an empty page

unless they’ve walked the broken path 

where nothing’s left, and nothing lasts

 

I float inside this empty space

in no specific time or place

and I'm still searching for the song

the tune that's meant for me, alone

     and I am listening

 

© Ginny Brannan 2023