Angel Tears

I awaken in the wee hours

to the sound of heavy rain

as it pounds against the roof

and am left to contemplate

whether truly raindrops,

or perhaps angels

mourning the loss

of both human life

and our humanity.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Livin' on a Prayer

I study your face as you speak:

lips turned up in amusement,

the twinkle in your blue eyes.

I hear the rhythm of your words,

at first animated, then softer

reflecting on what lies ahead.

It is not your words ,

nor the sound of your voice

but the firmness of your tone

the resolve in your demeanor.

Despite all you’ve been through

you’re still the bravest man I know

   and just like that, I know you will be okay.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

NaPoWriMo 2020

*Title Borrowed from Bon Jovi

Lost

I hear the rustle of the leaves

and view the storm clouds rolling in,

smell the rain as it approaches,

feel the cool breeze on my skin.

All these things unveil before me

I wonder, do you feel them too?

The hardest part of separation—

 is how I miss the taste of you.

© Ginny Brannan 2020

Day 6 NaPoWriMo Borrowed the writing prompt from NaPoWriMo site to write something that encompasses the 5 senses. Sharing link to 20 Little Poetry Projects to inspire you!

Murder, Mayhem and the Like

Like a storm, the cloud arises

cast against the fading sky;

voices cackling in the distance

others scream back in reply…

The setting sun calls to the darkness

the answer swift on blackened wing—

while some may write of birds returning.

or rites of nature in the spring—

other folks seek out the dark tales

that speak both strength and suffering…

Stories passed down through the ages,

survivors’ tales of battles fought;

tales of anger and of sorrow

behind the guise that time has wrought.

Inside this gathering of the crows

we'd seek the knowledge they’d bestow,

shared with us on this nocturne

they cite for us this lesson learned:

 To find your way back to the light

   first you must confront the night

© Ginny Brannan

NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 5

On the NaPoWriMo site, their pre-NaPoWriMo prompt was to write something about birds. I have been pecking away at this one for a few days, pun intended, but it has been ruminating inside for  over a month since seeing large flocks of crows in the trees at dusk around the Medical Center where husband was undergoing surgery. I've since learned that these migrating flocks return to Massachusetts yearly, usually in late February - early March, mostly on the eastern side of the state near Lawrence but apparently we are also seeing them now in the Pioneer Valley. The sheer number of them was amazing, and my darker, Edgar Allan Poe side, has always been fascinated by these birds.

A Small Ship on a Big Sea...

#4 for NaPoWriMo 2020
Credit for Image to Carlos Gotay via Google

Losing My Religion

Creativity falls by the wayside

its insignificance highlighted by our own mortality,

just a mote of dust inside this vacuum of disparity…

We view the culling of our dreams by those who dare to speak

—yet no one can predict a frame nor forecast its peak

so we follow stringent guidelines while we wait for this to quell

and watch those on the frontlines trying to navigate through hell.

The pollsters play their politics while living in denial,

and cast their stones against the bones of those who’ve lost this trial;

it’s hard to win a war against a foe that no one sees,

as we wallow in the mire of this new reality.

Another day turns into night, and I remain unscathed

stuck inside this petri dish where all await their fate.

As each one holds to their beliefs while keeping social distance

I pray our better angels find our pathway to resistance.

© Ginny Brannan2020

Title borrowed from R.E.M.

Photo credit: David Parham, taken at Lakelawn Cemetary in his beautiful hometown city of New Orleans. Used with expressed written permission.

Thank you, my friend!!

NaPoWriMo 2020

On Flaws and Broken Pieces

I thought to put the mug away

to use again another day

upon it’s rim I felt a nick

rendering it derelict;

but still, it worked, it held its share

and did not seem beyond repair—

there was nothing to prevent

it being used for its intent.

I see myself the broken cup,

somewhat shy of being whole...

despite each blemish and each flaw

each defect and deformity

I’ve stood up to what life’s doled

and done it all with dignity.

I may be chipped, my finish worn,

my glaze no longer uniform;

but do not write me off just yet

it could be something you’d regret.

© Ginny Brannan

NaPoWriMo.net offers writing prompts to assist with ideas for our daily writing. Sometimes I follow them, sometimes not. Today’s poem is from one of their prompts, which I ever-so-promptly misread! Ideally this was for Day One and suggested using an "action" as metaphor for your life, and I read as using a specific object as metaphor for life. So here’s mine, not as an action but as an object, inspired by my morning coffee!!
NaPoWriMo Day 2