Long Brennan Poems

Farmer Fred was out in his field making inspection
When I snuck up on him without detection
I stated my greetings with great voice inflection
Which caused Fred to jump in the opposite direction
Then he smiled and made...

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Puddin  Day
Christmas Begins

they come on a Saturday 
in November, the Puddin People,
brothers, sisters, nieces arrive.
family with their arms full of parcels 
sacks bulging with ingredients
and of course the maestro to orchestrate.

bags of raisins: sultana,...

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Former CIA Director
John Brennan scathing headlines
Washington Post op-ed sharply
published critical accusations

muted excoriation slams
Commander in Chief
volcanic blatant pathological lying
spews like lava his American

foreign policy boilerplate brazenly
bastardizes by banditry blueprint,
balefully balkanizing beautiful bracketed
booming brady bunch brand,

bests best-buy...

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I
At this stage
My retirement age
I speak with JWs
Jehovah's Witnesses
I shut my door
quickly before
Now, I'm emptier - stronger -
I converse with JWs longer

II
Fine people, careful about blood
Who avoid transfusions, "blood" food -
For JWs, smoking is wrong
Alcohol...

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I was thinking of writing an Acrostic
to enter the contest hosted by C.T.,
but that would've been much too quick
for my name with letters of only three.

So I'll share with you a little of my life
in...

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Go run and hide,
while you bide
your time in corners
unable to stop the cries
of pain you give out like parts of you have died.
and all of the bugs and flies
are eating at every part you leave...

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Patrick Brennan enters the Craic Pub
His wife is at home, twisting her Celtic knot necklace
Enticing him to come home early, before he is too far into the cups
Gaelic love sent to him courtesy of her...

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I am lost in a weakness, expressed in helplessness, watching on
I can do nothing to stop times’ flight, when soon you will be gone
I see you suffer, get weaker each day, yet our love is...

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I bid you farewell 
No more my story to you can I tell
I shall not see you again
We shared so much and then
You are gone 
and I am done
for, that is how it shall be
gone...

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His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh  
His frame broken down by the...

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The crude beast of my future
I know I will never be super
I cant make honors
so my life will by shattered like the trail left by bombers

I try too hard 
to make my life good
to make...

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Winters end brings fish to the bay.
where all the birds decide to lay.
And foxes and bunnies run around,
On the the grassy, sandy mound.

There is man with a pole
that doesn't have a goal
his hook is empty...

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Only yesterday it seems Brennan was born,
However, today I am so very torn;
That night he pitched a very good game,
Three hours later, he was shot in the head,
Oh what a shame;
His life flashed before his...

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I
Paul warned his "son" Timothy, On Guard
In the end time, many false prophets disguised
Even as angels from heaven, will tickle ears
And many will be led astray; Jesus is "too much"
To take, one in Adelaide told...

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I stood and watched them
One by one by one
Working ever so lovingly
Until all the work was done
There were parents and adults
Kids of all ages too
All this was for
In memory of you-know-who
They were washing headstones
Using shaving...

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Weaving its magical way into my very being
Comes a sweetness found only in its listening
Deep within my feeble mortal frame’s keeping 
I do love listening to a mournful violin weeping
A strange melancholy is woven by...

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The Lord of my garden has just come in from outside to the house
He muffles a noise, a growling of sorts, as he is carrying in a mouse
He lays it on the floor, it is...

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Bones
                                  ...

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Brenda penned a story about Brennan the boatswain in Bermuda
Who had bought a Bavaria 43 barque for a sailing adventure.
The story began with the ballad of Brennan:
'Come sail with me, on see-saw sea
Becapped, bedecked, emblazoned...

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He will rise in the morning with
	A can in his hand, wondering
-why he left his beloved home.

He comforts the streets, park benches, and bars
	At nights, asking for change 
-in-between fights.

At home, his Irish spirit, he...

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Imposing cross, producing profound silence
The Saviours last gasps, all making no sense
What is good about love crucified, O pitiful day
Desolate wretched Friday, taking life’s breath away
Hanging lifeless, exposed to creations shocked gaze
Despondent disciples enter into...

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Brown dead leaves, softly falling to the ground
Gently floating downwards, leaving no sound 
Stinging tears, softly falling to the soggy earth
Constantly flowing, since the time of our birth
Seasons come, they quickly go, as years pass...

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So full of life
With a cute little grin
Every girls dream
Each heart he could win

Riding bikes around
And playing with his dog
He would take him out
For a short little jog

When he was at school
He would talk about...

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The photo is of Brennan, my three and a half year old grandson. He's fully focused on everything he does ~ sports, art, Pixar cars...and yes, cartoon videos...however...read on.

A soccer player at the age of...

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A sense of foreboding captures my thinking
The room is darkening and my spirit is sinking
I watch the evening begin to vanquish the day
Light bows, allowing the shadow to have its way
The dying day gives into...

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