Friday, April 14, 2017

This Just "Don't Fly" with Me...

They pulled him off the plane pre-flight,
would not let him remain on flight—

They’d asked for a show of hands
for volunteers to de-plane the flight.

Seems everyone had plans,
they all chose to sustain the flight.

So attendants chose four off-hand
because seats aren’t pre-ordained on flight.

Three went with the plan;
the fourth tried to explain his flight.

They wouldn’t understand
why doc could not abstain from flight.

And though he took a stand,
would not let him remain on flight.

We watched the shit hit the fan,
when they dragged him with disdain from flight.

Their apologies were scant
for all news that pertained to flight.

We heard them spin their slant,
as their CEO ascertained the flight.

Now when travelers see their brand
they’ll think twice on restraint from flight.

If I ever fly again—
United won’t attain my flight.

 © Ginny Brannan 2017

Image: Jayse David/Twitter










This format is called a Ghazal, which is formed of couplets, each of which is a complete statement. Both lines of the first couplet end with the same phrase or end word, and that end word is also repeated at the end of each couplet. If you’re really feeling inspired, you can also attempt to incorporate internal rhymes and a reference to yourself or your own name in the final couplet.

In the News: United Airlines overbooks flight, pulls four from seats, drags man off who paid for ticket. 


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Watching the River Run
















We hear the steady drip, drip, drips
as melting snow turns to rivulets
racing down the mountainside
chasing along road’s edge in steady stream
to join the roaring river below.

What was once a quiet estuary
turns into churning white water
crashing over rocks and boulders
combining with larger waterways
on their quest to mesh with the sea.

We view the rising river
filling inlets and backwashes,
observe scores of riverbank trees
submerged to their knees
awaiting runoff to slow
and surge to recede.

There’s comfort found days like this
in the knowledge that somehow
no matter how much things change
some still remain the same.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Day 12 NaPoWriMo Challenge was to use Rhetorical Devices of Assonance and Alliteration:
Assonance is a resemblance of sound, particularly vowel sounds, occurring in words of close proximity: i.e. trees, knees, recede
Alliteration: the repetition of a sound, especially a consonant, for rhetorical or poetic effect: i.e. rivulets racing, roaring river, steady stream.
Not too heavy on either, but a small sampling of both.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

To the You I Barely Knew...

I never really knew you, except in the long ago;
...lipstick on…nails just so,
soft leather handbag, Tabu cologne—
you smoked Chesterfield Kings
    I remember these things.

And you would bake…
  oatmeal cookies, cream puffs
coconut pies with perfect crust
—a taste I would die for
would that I could taste once more.

It’s hard to live up to the memory
of  the you I barely knew—
shorter than five foot nothin’
yet a force to be reckoned with.
With these less-than-perfect hands
and broken nails, I favor
the crafter, the woodworker,
the other half that molded my existence.
But I have your eyes, and when I look in the mirror
   it’s you I see looking back at me.

So I carry all your stories in my heart,
told by the ones who knew you best
living on the memories we never had
           
…we could have been such good friends.


© Ginny Brannan 2017

Circa 1962 Franconia Notch, N.H.

















In loving memory of Clementine "Tina" Mary Donzello, 1921 - 1963

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Just Another Day





















We waken in the darkness before dawn,
to psych ourselves before we face the fray
as day arrives, another night absconds.

While trapped inside of routines that are rote,
how quickly now the time just slips away
while we’re left struggling, trying to keep afloat.

Still, as the sun slips mountains to the west,
and to the moon and stars now cedes the day,
I breathe the stillness, gratitude professed.

© Ginny Brannan 2017 

The Nocturna is basically a nine line poetry form based on the nocturne (night) theme containing three, three-line lessons recited during the night. The subject must be nocturnal and it consists of three couplets linked by the rhyme of the centre line;  a. b. a. c. b. c. d. b. d. Not sure that I got it right, but there's a first time for everything!

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Was It Love?

Was it love, actually, that stole your heart—
…or just a promise of a new beginning?
Was it love that whispered: “This one is different;”
the connection made on a cerebral level,
or found in the effortless banter,
the instant smile, the easy laughter…
Was it love that captured the day,
hastened your heart beat, swept you away,
made your palms sweat, kept you from sleeping?
Did you pass it off as some sort of illness
   perhaps the flu?
Or was it love, actually,
that brought you to this place…
this sacred space,
   I share with you.

© Ginny Brannan 2017












The suggestion for Day 8 of NaPoWriMo suggested composing a poem that relies on repetition. 

Unknowns
















Who will I be when I grow old…
will I sit and babble nonsense rhyme
old poems and remnants left behind—
when those final years take hold.

Will past and present merge as one,
as mind relinquishes control;
or stay alert, my thoughts left whole
while body starts to come undone.

No gypsy fortune-tellers, we...
what lies before us, undefined;
should favor nod as we decline
perhaps we'll keep our sanity.

Yes, all things acquiesce to time…
we only hope the years are kind.

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Thursday, April 6, 2017

There, Beyond the Stars...

I’ll never know the sound a rocket ship makes,
nor the courage it takes to  go
“Where no man has gone before…”
but I do know the magic of a moonlit night
and can still imagine the footprints that remain
in the dust of a billion stars on a small satellite
orbiting the third planet from the sun

In a world before fake news we had real heroes:
ordinary men who did extraordinary things
Science was expanding and the stars were in our grasp.

And we dreamed, and we believed

Dreams are smaller now—
hopes dashed by the small-minded and clueless
in positions they don’t deserve
making decisions no one can fathom.

But this day we remember the first human
who  slipped the surly bonds of earth,’
and a time when the whole universe
lay before us…
         …just waiting

Godspeed, John Glenn

© Ginny Brannan 2017

Military Portrait of John Glenn, Wikipedia

















July 18th, 1921 to December 8th, 2016
Interred at Arlington National Cemetary on April 6, 2017
Among his many accomplishments he was the first man to orbit the Earth, February 20th, 1962, for the Friendship 7 mission.

*"slipped the surly bonds of Earth" Excerpt from the poem "High Flight by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.