Stands every headland upon
Each, seaward facing
If but felt a-twirl
Outlines a young girl
Diaphanous-gowned.
There, beneath, rising up on
Whose frolicesome air
Made of whom, wave-high
Or just teased in by
Delirious sound.
A past the soul, eats
Memories of people
Event of many seats
Rained on. the steeple
Church prepped proper
Pews filled, flowers decked
White gowned, the monster
The future not yet wrecked
Confetti and photo shoot
A grand reception follow
Live band and MC to boot
Something, rings hollow
Joined in unholy union
Stoic empath and diva
For now, in communion
Twixt novelty driven fever
The mirror will break
Pierfect no more
Prisoners to take
To a distant shore
Blame games ensue
Victim turns villain
The truth to lose
Years two score ,fill in
A tender ache
hermits my soul—
so far from what I thought
the world would be
when I was
a wide-eyed girl of three.
Now, forty-four,
reality seeps in.
The dream I conjured
was far kinder
than the life
I’m now gowned in.
My body—
a sponge of pain—
soaked in old trauma,
dripping regret,
sinking in secret.
Sit beside me
and tell me it’s true—
that dreams born
will still unfold,
that love is real,
that kindness lingers.
So tell me—
somewhere beneath the grip,
does a softer haven hold?
Does the child I once was
still have a place
to rest her head—
to lay down all she’s carried,
and be held
by the world
in its cradled hands?
Parachutes are for girls
Soft beautiful things
gowned in silk wings
Curls, linen, lace
Wisteria eyes
Silver snake tongue liars
Asking for wishes
On evening stars
Forgetting
Even stars fall
Gates of hell were opened
Guttural groans were heard
Grotesque ghouls overhead
Gowned in gossamer gauze
Gnarled fingers reached for me
Guilefully, they took flight
Gory night of bloodshed
If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor – Desmond Tutu
The Trumpet of Parrots
Patriots rally to the trumpet sound,
its blare echoes the lies that bigots breed.
Perched in power, pipers, in pretence gowned,
their hatred spreads, disguised as noble creed.
They stoke the tribal fire in ancient scars,
while hissing hypes to mask the stench of greed.
Their chorus of lies taints Venus and Mars,
who like pawns follow blindly the king’s lead.
Their victims vilified and ridiculed.
Protesters branded as dregs of the state,
by troops of diehards loathsome and unschooled,
As crony capitalists preach their hate.
So, mark the flock that flaps where conscience sleeps:
A nation full of parrots gently weeps.
Green grasshoppers glide gracefully over the ground,
Their glossy gossamer wings glitter all around,
Their glassy feathers generate grandiose sound,
Like glorious gladiators, some golden gowned
gorgeous grigs gallop in their gluttonous manner,
Other garish brown ones glow like grimy scanner
as they hover in swarms like a greasy banner,
Best, stay away from grasshoppers - that's the plan, er!!!
A brotherly jaunt through sinister mirth
behold the brothers Death:
gowned and guided, an ill century
the fourteenth, an alliance of crop, of plague
in ground-down death of torrential pains
in sores and blood under the rains
that drowned the land, starved the bellies
there echoed howls of ill exclaim
a wanting of a light to shine
is where the brothers thought that they
worked well together, effectively
one would scoop from ruined crop
one from sickness, war, attack
the beak, a sign, of the plague mask
in shacks, where hags mopped weeping rot
crosses on doors, on floors of straw
with nothing in the cooking pot
the brothers danced and sang their wealth
of many clientele they sought
and on they went, and on they struck
perfecting songs on appetites
of pestilence and of disease
hand in hand like trees whose leaves
do smother, smite, in murderous breeze
the brothers, down the ages tease
and beckon, wreaking havoc on,
like rolling waves of seas on high
always taunting their sister - life
Sunlight was paling.
Was it drifting on the sea
like an ebbing tide?
It glinted farewell
to a day of sovereignty
as twilight drew nigh.
At the cusp of night
a new monarch took the throne,
glowing was the moon.
Regal as a queen,
gowned in luminous silver,
she decreed her reign.
Celestial diamonds
surrounded her radiance,
facets of starlight.
Supernal nova!
Were they ornaments hanging
in galactic skies?
Incandescent prisms
were reflected in moonbeams
of lambent colors.
Dappled light of morn
was woven with threads of gold
by dawn's gentle hand.
Then, appeared pastels,
lavender, pink and amber,
painted by the sun
on the eastern horizon.
Spring winds blow their sound,
Winter now is bound.
Knees in,
Melted, sludgy-browned,
Green peaks through the ground.
These in,
Nature's own impound,
Exiled now, grave mound,
Squeeze in.
Snow tries to reason,
Get one last freeze in,
Surprise!
Vernal, yet weazen,
March smells a treason,
The lies!
Mad by degrees in,
Arrogant season,
Reign skies!
Hasten Cold's demise,
February spies,
Be drowned.
Viridescent eyes,
Vegetation rise,
Be gowned,
Prep and lionize,
Time yields yearly prize,
Be crowned!
The Wedding Prayer
Your hand I hold,
your ring I place,
our future dreams to unfold.
I see you there,
all gowned in white,
our union we will share.
I pray my Lord,
this bond we hold,
will keep until we get old.
Past chapel fair,
past garden grounds,
our marriage we declare.
And if in sickness,
we cannot be as one,
being by each other’s side,
we preseve our love,
cherishing memories,
and to each other still abide.
by Martin Braun
2.23.2023
The Wedding Prayer
Your hand I hold
Your ring I place
Our future dreams to unfold
I see you there
gowned in white
and crowned with darkened hair
I pray my Lord
This bond we made
will remain until we get old
And if in sickness,
we cannot be as one,
by each other’s side;
Do keep our memories,
and our hearts so dear,
to each other we abide.
by Martin Braun
2.4.2023
Hubble photographed her
in her finest sapphire
and carnelian display;
a wizened sage who’s
gathered knowledge of universes
Orion takes his back seat to her luminosity.
Gowned in her elegant splendor,
Carina’s a nebulous delight,
upon Sagittarius’s Arm
a pageantry of excellence,
as she arrives at the universal ball.
For your eyes only I have clipped the stars of heaven and sent them
shimmering down
For your heart only, have I gowned the earth with snow and
delivered love to you
Like a snow fallen angel from my Father's stainless house,
I have longed for your arrival like a faithful spouse...
Pour yourself over the warming lights of my birth dear child,
I have set you apart alone, but you are not exiled
Inside Noah's ark two by two they came, pair-filed
but here inside this Christmas flame you are undefiled
come inside my warming lights, dear dear child of mine
eat my bread and drink my wine
come and live within my Festive, Sacred Shrine.
Childhood crept through
those long summer days
when the smell of pine
hung in the hot air.
Deep in the shadows
of that besieged acre,
heaven and hell played
out a lethal game
in what crawled, wriggled
or took wing. Death there
was silent and cries
froze in gaping mouths.
Dragonflies patrolled
the boundary
like miniature demons
and in hollows,
mandibles gnawed
on nerves
until the last thread
snapped and let panic loose.
Gowned in finery,
other terrors waited
to welcome fleeing souls
with a fatal sting
or to paralyze the will
and render living flesh
food for offspring.
At night, screams
broke out
and blew across
battlegrounds
to tangle in the thickened
skeins of dreams.
Years on, all have
sunken deeper
and slurried
into a faceless fear.
There are times,
even now,
when you can hear
the sobs of those still
wandering the wastelands
of restless nights
whilst good people sleep.
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