Branwen’s Poetry

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Now behind paywall
I am putting Branwen’s Poetry behind a pay wall. I am doing this in hopes of generating some income to publish collections of my poems and to subsidize…
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Branwen Drew
CALL TO ARMS
Raise the cry, “To Arms, TO ARMS.” Not to guns or violence, A call to ACTION. Time to lock arms, in a circle, Around our youth, trans, gay, lesbian…
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Branwen Drew
WHAT IS IT
Found below my picture, on a blog full of hate and bigotry, Trying to define me, label me, without knowing me. I am not an it, Nor am I a thing. I am…
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Branwen Drew
Happiness is ...
Writing a poem, One that seems to write itself. Hand-possessed guides the pen, Words across the paper. Each word is a brick, Part of a course laid, Rows…
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Branwen Drew
BREATHE
Breathe in, Cool spring air. Sun streams in low, From the east, Over the trees. Sunrise, New day. Windows wide open, Welcome the fresh in. Listen…
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Spring Day, May 7
White cotton candy clouds, Stretched from north to south. Deep bluest of blues, Filling in between Long threads of white. Popcorn yellow sun, Warming…
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Branwen Drew
The Road
Life is the road, Not the road not taken, We can never know where that lead. Life is the long and winding road, where I walked alone, Not seeing your…
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Branwen Drew
Inconstant Time
Time is not Constant. It moves slowly, One tick forward two ticks back, When one is full of anticipation. Time moves too fast, When one is happy, And…
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Branwen Drew
A New Year
What does the new year hold? Many changes. Many opportunities. Many challenges. The future is coming. Today will soon be yesterday. Tomorrow will be…
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Branwen Drew
My Body is a World
My body is a world unlike any other. Deep valleys carved, by glaciers of despair and experience. Tears pour from clouds of love, storms of rage, wash…
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Branwen Drew
1
Homeless in Rome
Walking out of Copperccino’s this morning, I saw a homeless person, Wrapped in a battered quilt, 50 gallon garbage bag on their back, The tolling sound…
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Branwen Drew
Once Upon A Violet
A modest flower, Once Artemis's nymph. Early blooming, Full of life. Loved by the buzzing bee. Nectar used to make sweet honey And feed the whirring…
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Branwen Drew
Umbrella
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Branwen Drew
1
Empire Limited
High-pitch whistle, barely audible. ”Hello, Rome.” Whistle louder, ”HELLO, ROME!!!” Rumbling, steel on steel, Steel drums along the Mohawk. Squealing…
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Branwen Drew
Branwen’s Poetry
Branwen’s Poetry
Trans life, poetry, art, my journey
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