Best of Ways – A Poem by Brandon White

Best of Ways

I bear witness to your innocence
and for its preservation I do pray
For your safety and my vigilance
It breaks my heart
in the best of ways

The student and the teacher
these are the roles we trade
We are but briefly sinless creatures
It breaks my heart
in the best of ways

At night I hope you dream
of something better than what waits
after childhood colors fade
to grown-up gray
It breaks my heart
in the best of ways


-Brandon White


Photo by Kenzie White



A piece for all the Momma’s and Daddy’s out there; the veterans and the newly initiated. What the rest of the world is searching for, we’ve found.

Love,

Brandon

Book 3 – Spring 2023

While watching ink dry on the contract for my third collection of poems, I realized how much life fits into these pages. It feels much longer than it’s been since my last offering.

I’m grateful to my publisher, @tara_caribou, for her continued support, guidance, and honesty. There’s no better feeling than knowing those you collaborate with want what’s best for you and your work.

I’m also grateful to those of you who continue to support my endeavors. Your kind words, encouragement, and inspiration are a gift.

There’s much work to be done, but this feels like a moment worth remembering.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered.
Book 3 – Spring 2023.

-Brandon


Book 3 – Coming Soon!

Hello Friends,

I’ve officially handed in the manuscript for Book 3.

There’s still work to be done, but I’m thrilled to officially be on the road to release and anxious to share the work with you.

Keep an eye on this space. I’ll be switching up my efforts to spread the word and giving sneak peeks and updates as they become available.

Talk soon.

Love,

Brandon


The Last – A Poem by Brandon White

The Last

Become now the unwitting trigger,
the convenient symbol of a trauma
in which you had no part

Become now the beaten dog
at the mercy of validation's cruel hand;
dodging kicks, starving for love

Become now the bitter taste
that floods the mouth
at the mention of a name

Become now the last of your kind,
screaming into the nothingness
You're better when you're burning


-Brandon White

It’s been too long, friends. I hope you enjoy this new piece. More on book #3 coming soon!

-BW

Be – A Poem by Brandon White

Center

There's a deep dissatisfaction
within me

It keeps me hungry, curious;
pulling my introverted self

towards the world
in hopes of capturing

whatever may quell
such a feeling

Delivering me
to songs, to poems

wild, wide-eyed things
not meant for taming

Glimpses of the meeting
of the needle points

The elusive center
from which every moment

came bursting
forth

You and me, these two inches
of infinity between


-Brandon White

First Calls – A Poem by Brandon White

First Calls

I haven’t thought of the first phone calls
since making them three years ago
Aunts and Uncles, sisters, my boss,
my shaky voice delivers the message:

He’s gone. It’s over.

“It” being suffering, false hope
We were left with shards of a life,
looking them over in bewilderment
until the words finally came:

Where do we even begin?


-Brandon White

Purpose – A Poem by Brandon White

Purpose

Here is something
of the moment
I’ve pulled from
the air for you

From the bone dry
recesses of a mind
begging to burn again
with romantic ideas

that this world
could never live up to
To pull up
and out of my pessimism,

not with a mouthful
of self-help clichés,
but led again by
my own sparking curiosity

Here, little birds,
on the other side
of unimaginable loss
is what remains:

The lifting of the veil,
your once forgotten dreams

staring back


-Brandon White

Unfinished – A Poem by Brandon White

Unfinished:

Chain fried chicken
and fresh stress,
chasing dollars though
I swore I never would

That was pre-children
and pre-family death explosion
that sent everything familiar
in a thousand different directions

Red light
Stop and stare
into unfamiliar eyes
reflecting

on old dreams
searching for a pulse
Get clean
Get clear

All these
unfinished things
stirring
somewhere


-Brandon White

Exit 8 – A Poem by Brandon White


Exit 8

The sky
was an oil painting
and I was stoned
and terrified
doing 80
down i40,
as close
to Hunter S. Thompson
as I'll ever be

In between
moments of sheer panic,
I thought of poetry and art
and how older men confused
by such things
are just older men afraid
of being swallowed up
by a world that never cared
to be understood

I squealed like a child
on exit 8
I spun round and round
careless and unworthy
of my blessings
wrapped in the arms
of my shame
When the car straightened
I wiped away tears


-Brandon White

Enough – Poem by Brandon White


Enough


Maybe this is all it'll take

for the wall between the words

and I to come crumbling down

to feel myself giving up ground

to the anxiety I naively

believed under control


I've nothing to sell you,

no body to help lure you in

I don't pander

All I have are these lines,

this nervous heart;

what I hope

is just enough



-Brandon White