About that River...

 

Today we were enlightened by a new discovery

what we heard conflicting with what many had believed–

in corroborating statements by those sworn to tell the truth

a tale began unfolding of a man we thought we knew.

The picture that it painted was indicative of crime

of payments and of cover-ups written over time

and with so plot twists, it boggled all our minds.

Defaming judge and jury, contra to his views

asserting his rebuttals, calling it “fake news”

and there amid such damning proof, so many in denial,

leaving me to question if they understood the trial?

And we are left to wonder, “How long can this go on?”

with such compelling evidence and proof that he’s done wrong...

exposing to the public what’s clearly plain to see,

that he has finally turned into his own worst enemy.

 

© GB 2024

Endurance Testing

 

nothing around me

nothing about me

nothing within me 

nothing to grasp

what to hold onto

when all else escapes me

nothing’s forthcoming

and nothing will last

I wait for an answer

and look to the heavens

but there is no inkling

to what is the key;

some say it’s God-sent

or comes from within us

my vessel is empty

there’s nothing to see.

there’s no light that shines

at the end of this tunnel

your words have no meaning

they’re just cursory.

alone on this path 

without rhyme or reason

that many have travelled

long before me

There must be some limit

some end to this testing

a way to deter it

some way to insure

that for all that we carry

and all that we’re put through

that we’ll be rewarded

for what we endure

 

© ginny brannan 2024

Slow Dancing

 

The rhythm’s in my head, 

my feet tap tap tap to the beat

my lips mouth the words

it’s the end of the day and we sway

to this dance (take a chance)

my head insists (take a risk)

I just don’t know (take it slow)

but the scars on the heart, they insist.

Will it grow? Will it bloom in profusion?

Is it real? Or is it just an illusion—

a chimera, a lark? Or some other delusion?

An undertow? (If I let my guard down will I drown?)

Do I stay? Disembark? (Is it wise to restart?)

Is there a trace (A glimmer? A spark?)

in your words, in the lines you earmark?

As my heart beat, beat, beat, beat, beats like a drum

it resonates, while I succumb to the thrum...

I guard the line (Do you want me to go?)

Or take a chance (How will I know?)

Shall we dance?

  (take it fast) 

   (take it slow)

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

 

Between Eternities

 

I’m on a road that I’ve not travelled in such a long, long time

the signs are unfamiliar, my map is obsolete

feeling apprehension with each new turn and bend

not sure if I’ll ever get back home again.

Not getting any younger, but sometimes I pretend

wallowing in darkness just isn’t who I am

yet I can feel the shadows on the periphery

wondering, as always, if they come for me.

So I paint my pretty pictures of all the things I do

omitting how the quiet times, the emptiness, accrues–

for others like it better when we hide our broken parts

cover up the ugly scars, the trauma to our hearts.

So should you search the subterfuge looking for a sign

picking through the boneyard of the words I leave behind

perhaps another traveler just searching for their home,

take comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024