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Best Poems Written by Brennan Gunster

Below are the all-time best Brennan Gunster poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Fisherman

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 
and asleep dreamt he,
nothing but the ocean breeze.
Then in a swift and careful motion
did he jig his line.
Now I notice his pole is a stick and line was twine.

I ask "what do you suppose you'll catch
with that stick for a pole and twine for a line."
He said "If me and that fish do by chance intertwine 
ill be happy for awhile,
But I am satisfied with how I beguile this time."
So as I watched this fisherman I cracked a smile.
Cause although he has nothing but a stick for a pole and twine for a line,
he has become more content with life.
So I left and continued with my strife. 

By, Brennan Gunster

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Why I Care, But Pretend I Don'T

Why I care, but pretend I don’t.
First, screw you.
Second, I’m sorry.
Third, it’s not you it’s me.
Fourth, sometimes I hear things that aren’t there.
Fifth, why is everyone looking at me?
Sixth, do I walk weird?
Seventh, why do I do sports?
Eighth, cause I’m being forced to.
Ninth, maybe people will like me if I do this?
Tenth, never do that again.
Eleventh, sorry mom I just didn’t think.
Twelfth, why will no one date me?
Thirteenth, stop looking at me!
Fourteenth, no one likes a crybaby.
Fifteenth, what is wrong with me?
Sixteenth, “stop being such a nerd.”
Seventeenth, was that a joke?
Eighteenth, am I stupid?
Nineteenth, how come no one else looks like me?
Twentieth, sometimes I hear things that aren’t there.

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Expectation

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 my sure I wont live in a junkyard
from the second I was born I would be told I could
I could do anything I want
I could say anything I want
I could believe whatever I want
And it is as if life is making my life miserable by all of its taunts

The truth hurts they say
That luck will eventually come my way
School is a pit of destruction that crushed dreams more than it creates them
cause there is now way I can get my GPA, SAT, MCAS, or RPMs hight enough.

I love learning but hate being graded on the right answer.
There is more than one right answer and if if it doesn't fit in your ideal world
I will just have to become an exotic dancer
Cause I want to change education not become enrolled. 

By, Brennan Gunster

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My First Love Peom

My First Love Poem
My thoughts, filled with twisted ideas and thoughts that could scare the devil,
This girl is also on that level.
She is crazy in every way,
I think about her every day.
Her laugh her, her face;
my worst fear is that she will leave me without a trace.

Her smile can light the darkest parts of my heart.
She won’t believe it but she’s insanely smart. 
She is just like me,
she has been through a lot and choose me to be her sanctuary.
I will always be there.
Through all of her despair,
I will be waiting for her to wake up from her nightmares,
and I can’t be there all the time,
and who ever keeps up apart will be jailed by me for war crimes.
Because you are at war,
your body, beaten and sore.
I don’t know if I make you feel better,
but I will always be there to surround you like a sweater,
and keep you safe from the rain,
because I know you can’t help but feel the pain.
I know the pain starts in your brain,
goes through a vein,
then straight to you heart,
but you’re insanely smart.
You can stop my heart with a word,
This feeling to me is unheard.
I’m obsessed with you,
the same way a little girl is obsessed with her hairdo;
Consistently and passionately,
Frantically and irrationally.

I don’t know if you feel the same way,
maybe you don’t want to be with me every day.
I always second guess anything good,
but I’m positive you will qualify for sainthood.

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The Battle

All I can hear is my breath,
Feeling the touch of death.
I ran as fast as I could,
My head was covered by a hood.
I burst into the nurse’s room,
Now feeling as if I’m in a tomb. 
“Are you ok?”
I leaned against the doorway,
so I muttered something she couldn’t hear,
“you will have to speak up dear.”
“I think I’m having a panic attack.”
Suddenly all I can see is black,
I fall to the ground
I know I hit the floor but I heard no sound.
My hands clenched shut,
Unable to get them unstuck.
Not wanting to retreat,
I dig in my feet.
I sit and wait,
And call this battle a stalemate.

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The Pain of Being Alone

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 behind.
so you let out a sigh,
on loud, soul piercing sigh
that could make the toughest man cry,
and weep, and never want to move again.
You feel your depression is like a virus,
that will fly from person to person
so you hide.
not wanting to affect those who cried by your side.
But wishing you were so close to those who would chide you,
tell you to get over it.
They say "go outside."
feel the fresh air but I know it will burn my face like acid.
it will make my skin looked fried.
But now I know it wont.
and every step you take outside is progress.
So there is no reason to hide. 
Your depression is not contagious. 
You aren't alone,
cause I've tried to beat this by myself,
but now I know I'm not alone
and that I don't have to hide.

By, Brennan Gunster

More recent of my poems and my favorite so far.

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Lament of My Life

Nothing but a dream
I tell myself
but sadly it's all real
my life has ripped my heart 
and would not let it seam 
for it ripped open every time
I glanced into the past
So I try not to look back.
But the past made me who I am.
So how can I ignore what made me?
I look around and just want to break free.
But I'm trapped,
I can see piles of brain dead people
walking around me, 
following a bell as if it was a deity.
Not asking why cause it's normal.
They don't know anything different. 
I once had a dream where I was free
and know I know I am not free.
Why do I stay here? my dad? my future?
No it has to be fear that keeps me here.
Stuck with people I don't like 
and people that will never understand me.
Fear pulls me back like earth's gravity
unable to get off the ground 
but fear that I will become nothing
and that I will not make a sound on this ever moving world.
I want to make my mark,
cause thats all we want.
I want to be heard over the 6 billion people on this world.

This is the first poem I made it jumps around but still one of my favorites.

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Blood and Gore

I’m not affected by blood and gore,
Because you should love people for what’s in them.
Not for how they look.
So we should all rip out our insides with a hook,
So that they will have to love us for what is inside. 
Screw you beautiful eyes,
All they do is persecute and lie.
We are all the same on the inside.
So why are we judged by what’s on the outside?
Because everyone wants to be the best, 
and that means making someone the worst.
We all get stressed,
we sometimes have outburst.
But because you look different now I’m better.
And I see it all the time,
you’re acting like your struggle is mine.
Well that’s not fine.
You do not know what it is like to be me,
if you don’t start to open your eyes and see,
than you will never get the key.
The key that opens your heart,
so all the hate that should be love spills out.
If you could see inside me?
Would you have acted differently.

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I Used To

I used to cry a lot,
I wouldn’t say I’m weak,
I would say my emotions like to clot.
until they were at their peak.
And no matter how much I fought,
They would always leak.

They would seep out,
And I couldn’t hold it anymore,
So my levies broke and my emotions spout,
Then crashed on my face’s shores.
I know what it was about.
My life is a lot of wars.

Both fist clenched
I swing at ghostly goons
Hoping to get drenched.
But they are like typhoons, 
Not able to fight but able to entrench.
So if water were my savoir I would live in the desert dunes.

I used to cry a lot, 
I wouldn’t say I’m weak,
I would say my emotions like to clot.
But I’ve learned a new technique,
To open up my expansion slot
And try to be better each week.

Details | Brennan Gunster Poem

The Echos of My Mind

These words echo in my mind.
I toss back and forth shaking my head trying to rattle them out.
These words were not hard to find
The were spout by my friends as a joke
and now they won't leave me.
My head is fragmented each with its own voice
that no one but me can hear and see
Some people say it's my choice to feel this way.
My voices yell sometimes, but other times they are soft,
but they are always there.
They are like and anchor in water while I try despratly to stay aloft,
they pull me down to my nightmares. 
Some of the voices are intsults that have echoed in my brain since I first heard them,
Others say I need to get over it.
Some say I'm like a baby sucking it's thumb.
Another says that I emit a ray to make everyone sad around me.
These echoes will not stop,
unless I cut them off.
I found an axe and decided to chop of the part of my brain that lets me feel.
To end this standoff.