Saturday, October 4, 2025

It's Not "All About Me"


 











In your words I’ve sometimes sensed

—at least in my interpretation—

that hidden in the metaphor

or sometimes in the lines themselves

they might have been inspired by me–

(am pretty sure they wouldn’t be.)

Presumption, or perhaps a wish
that surfaces from time to time…
I am the one you’ve never met

who hears the echos of your thoughts

and in our commonality

understands where you have been:
two kindred spirits who’ve been scarred,

and in our words we spin our shards

confessing dreams in their inflection

lest we admit our feelings there 

hidden in these words we share.


© Ginny Brannan 2025


Monday, September 22, 2025

Files! Files! Crocodiles!!


 









And so the emperor stands his ground, lest he be exposed,

lest we see him naked: no makeup or no clothes.

The lies come rolling off his tongue of drug lords on the seas,

while with intent he sinks the boats just to firm his needs.

A war with Venezuela would ensure a longer term

“Leadership Forever,” no matter how infirm.

Don’t say I didn’t warn ya when Zelenskyy made his visit
Laws and rules do not apply when dealing with ‘illicit’

Deep inside our jester’s head was dropped a craven seed

taking root in blackened heart where it grows like a weed


There can be no dissension, no discourse in the ranks

he certainly will never cede should his favor tank.

He makes you think he’s set his sights on outside evil-doers

trans and gays and blacks and browns and democratic losers

He’s silenced all the laughter, he cannot take a joke

I hesitate to think what’s next, what new hell he’ll invoke
And so he tricks his followers, dividing “us” from “them.”
Yet, no matter what he says, we’re all Americans.


What trouble would he go to, to try to circumvent?
How many would he “disappear” to show his discontent?
as he denies and doubles down against all allegations

won’t even stop at killing to prevent incarceration.

He’s calls arrests on anyone that does not agree,

He’d throw us all in prison, then throw away the key.

A madman with a following, we’ve seen this one before…

and yet among his followers he’s losing some allure.

We may yet land in Florida, among the crocodiles...

Oh! the steps he’s taking, to not “Release the Files.”


Image credit to site Dreamstime.com

© Nattysiri



Tuesday, September 2, 2025

Searching for Balance

 











Writing needs more than an idea...

it needs fertile ground to grow

a bit of sunshine 

a measured amount of rain

balance.

Tip the scales and chaos ensues.

Inspiration dries like the lawn 

under a hot August sun

or is choked in a jungle

of tangled weeds, hiding a flower

that you can still see

but no longer reach.


© Ginny Brannan 2025

Tuesday, July 1, 2025

On Hopes and Wishes, Beggars Ride...


















Sometimes I’ll read the words you write

each turn of phrase, each metaphor;

the choice of words within a line

wondering if I might learn

if they were put there by design.

I’ll fall into their ebb and flow,

each intimacy you reveal…

How is it that you know my thoughts?

How is it that you read my mind?

And in that moment, we are one,
such is the power words can wield.

And lost inside this reverie,

each flaw exposed for you to see.

you hint to things we’ve never shared:

how each of us has lived with pain,

felt the clouds burst, walked through rain.

If truth be known, 'tis but a dream

in a time when dreams have gone.

When life is shattered, torn to shreds

sometimes we grasp onto the threads,

the remnants of some tapestry;

and I am drawn to meet you there,

inside this broken frame we share.

                  ~ ~ ~

And in this place where poets bond

    I still listen for your song.


© Ginny Brannan 2025


  

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

The Grief of Just Existing

 

I focus on the day ahead

as if it had a purpose

perhaps I should just stay in bed


With trepidation and with dread

I choose to face the ‘circus’

and focus on the day ahead


But still, the voices in my head

keep telling me I’m worthless–

perhaps I ought to stay in bed


We don't exist without regrets

and shouldn’t lose our focus:

I focus on the day ahead


With some ambivalence I tread;

the heaviness, enormous…

– perhaps I should just stay in bed.


And still, despite the tears I’ve shed,

I am fucking dauntless

I focus on the day ahead,

dismiss the thought to stay in bed.


© Ginny Brannan 2025


*Use of profanity in poetry for emphasis


*Villanelles: use of variations on Refrains.




Tuesday, April 29, 2025

Just to 'Be'


 












For some, home is a place

where they are free to be exactly

who they are; where they are able

to live their life according to

the dictates of their own heart,

without fear or retribution.

For others, it is just a concept:

a dream of shelter from their storm;

a place filled with hope

where they can be reborn.

In the cold dark night where monsters roam

and darkness threatens our very core,

let us look to the points of light to guide us

–like mariners of old on an endless sea–

to set us back upon the course

that allows for each to have their dream,

that allows the freedom just to be.


© Ginny Brannan 2025