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Best Poems Written by Nora Brand

Below are the all-time best Nora Brand poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Nora Brand Poem

Why I Write

Why I Write


He asks why I write

And I say I must

Because the words, you see

Flow as easy as blood in my veins 

The pen as natural as the air I breathe

Without it, I explain

The maze of my mind couldn't handle it 



He asks how I write

And I say that my method cannot be taught

For my words are etched into me, stuck to my skin

My story swept back like my hair, ready to come loose

If I taught him my way

It just wouldn't be the same



He asks where I write

And I say that it can be anywhere

Hidden in my mind waiting for a chance to be free

In the comfort of my bed, or the cold of a desk

Anywhere, I explain

I can write, as long as it comes ultimately from the heart



He asks who I write about

And I pause

My heart races faster than my thoughts have ever dared

My eyes soften like they've never been hurt before

I question his questions

As if it could be anyone but him?

Details | Nora Brand Poem

The Man Who Held His World In His Hands

Maybe love is forever
Or at least long enough
Maybe devotion is definite
Or will at least last a lifetime
Maybe you can have everything in the palm of your hand
Because I once saw a man
With his world in his hands

Every Sunday at 8:30 am sharp
The golden hour of the morning
When the sun is warming
Not yet burning
When the day is unsteady
And the night is far off
Despite knees worn down
By work and walking, wandering
They find a place in the pew
And he kneels despite age
Despite pain in the joints she used to tend
Despite unkempt hair she used to tame
Every Sunday at 8:30 am sharp
He's there, and he kneels
He kneels before God
and he kneels before the angels
Among them I feel as if he sees her
More beautiful than the sunsets they saw on their porch
More beautiful than the day he saw her down the aisle
More beautiful even than the day they first met
All those years ago
Angels have wings, and humans have cursed eyes
The world is cruel, but God is merciful
The man kneels, and pulls out a picture
A picture of an angel
And he holds her in his palm
He holds his world in his palm
He holds her to his heart
He lets his world hear the beat
And I think he prays in the darkness his eyelids provide
And I think he finds a way to see her
The angel cutting through the dark
The golden hour before the night
But as all good does
The moment is broken by the bells of the Chruch
He kisses the photo, the next closest thing
To his angel, his world

Maybe love is forever
The man who held his world in his hands 
Sure does believe it
And I think I believe him too.

Details | Nora Brand Poem

Visiting

He planned on moving out
This place that held the living dead
These halls that magnified the screams
His wristband said otherwise
Trapped here for life
Though it would be a temporary stay
In a way
You could tell from the state of his mind
And the stare of his eyes
That he didn't have to wait too much longer
To leave these haunted halls
He told me how his mother yelled 
When he was caught sneaking out to the shadows
Full name, "Robert!"
And I wonder if he wishes to sneak out
To disappear into the shadows like he did when he was young
A caregiver there to stop him
Just not the one who knew his full name
No legs to run away on
But wheels they gave as a substitute
The conversation was absurd
But I thanked him for his time
He told me that he planned on moving out
Glimmering hope in his eyes
I smile because he is fragile, I smile because he is sure
I smile because I want out of this place too
He asks if I'm staying for dinner
A leftover mashup from yesterday's planned to perfection meal
I tell him I'm only visiting
And he says the same
I smile because hope is more fragile than bones
More fragile than legs taken clean from under us
More fragile than the mind that breaks down so easily
He smiles too
Because he is only a visitor
Because he is leaving very soon, he says
And there's something so sure in his shaky voice
Something so determined in his eyes
He assures me that he's moving out
So I wish him luck
Because Death is his realtor
He tells me about the shadows
Sneaky things and full names
I leave him with the hope that I'll be back tomorrow
And I will, just not for him
I never knew Robert, nor did he know me
I wish I had, wish I could hear his stories
Though shaky, he was wise
Afterall
He told me he was only visiting

And visiting he was.

Details | Nora Brand Poem

Halfway Down

People wanted to see the view
From halfway down
This life their leading
Down the wrong paths
With the wrong map
With shoes too big
With rocks in the way
Is tiring
And I know somewhere
There’s a place where
People who didn’t want to 
Walk any further 
Told each other about
What they saw
From halfway down
The river and the lake
The mirror and the bathroom floor
The rocks that looked so small
From so high up

Maybe they could’ve gotten over them after all
But the view from halfway down
Was a sight to see before you died
Because once you got that close
You could really see the details
Appreciate the little things
And the things that looked little
From high above
But once you get so close to the edge
To the end
You finally appreciate the little things

Only when you make it
Halfway down