A New "Hope"

With each word uttered,

I watch him diminish and fade.

His voice becoming white noise

–like so many others, whose self-proclaimed

 self-importance dissipates.

Fleeting. 

A brief glimmer.  A will-o-wisp. 

A passing ghost ship in the night.

How long is hate sustainable? 

How long can all the lies be denied?

The country awakens from a deep sleep. 

Hope takes hold.

Like a train, it picks up speed. 

Like an avalanche, a force of nature

sweeping up the undecided in its path.

Incomparable. 

Unstoppable. 

Its beauty reflected in the faces of all races,

stunning to silence the hardcore racists.

Denial and dissonance no longer holding sway.

Hope.

Can you feel it?

And, more importantly,

can you believe it?

Anger holds no place here..

Bigotry holds no place here.

The orange veil has been lifted. We see the little man

behind the curtain for who he is,

All "smoke and mirrors"

There is no magic. There is no power.

We, we the people, hold the power, don’tcha know? 

It’s been inside us all along!

 © Ginny Brannan

Unfinished Pages

 

We’ve always had rapport, you and I–

a tongue-in-cheek way of coming at something,

an understanding based on similar youths 

in dissimilar settings. We seem to share so

many parallel congruities (but perhaps I project 

inside of my own wishful thinking).

Romance is alive and well in that damaged heart of yours

filled with the angst of lost love from long ago

and the dream of some connection that you hope to find.

I, too, seek connection as I read between the lines.

Yet I am pragmatic; it’s doubtful that someone like you

would ever pen a word or two with someone like me in mind.

We create our stories using subtle vagaries, 

meting out those tiny bits that we wish to share.

But somewhere in the margins

                                         or deep within the fold,

perhaps another story’s waiting to be told?

 

I have often wondered of this image that you paint

–the broken man still searching for redemption–

someone always seeking/never finding what they need,

inked in words of vagueness and ambiguity.

Is this persona that you share just some fantasy?

Has it been a lie from its inception?

Leaving me to ponder of my own uncertainty

or if there's something more in our connection?

Another blank page lying here between us–

       What shall we write?

 

© Ginny Brannan 2024

Just another tale filled with vague references, plot holes, unrequited feelings, and no happy ending.