These are for you..

These are for you.. 💐

Floored,

is the man waist deep in a bed of his own flowers.

Flawed,

is the man scared to pick & bury himself in them.

You’d be picked clean apart indiscriminately in the foulest of manners,

way before they pick out a scented rose & hand it to you enamored.

Cultivate it in the highest order—

you are no doubt,

the sun, the garden & the water.

Do it yourself.

Grow yourself.

Pick yourself.

..from you.

9/2/2020

"PoetsTruMental"

learn me slowly.

learn me slowly.

please, 

be patient 

with my pages.

-pavanna reddy

as I am not ready, to turn them just yet.

For sometimes I stumble upon my words,

And they assemble into a nest

welcoming me right back home to rest.

But I never do knowing there are mines,

delicate to the slightest caress.

Read them with me as I finger the lines,

setting off data explosions with every find. 

So please,

be patient

with my pages.

As we both, have so much more to untwine.

To understand my growth & complex phases,

it is better to learn me slowly.

So you can lick your thumb and taste it

when you finally turn my pages.

-Brennan

Inspired by pavanna reddy

"PoetsTruMental"

Remind Me Why

Lovers going to love;
Beings are going to be;
Warriors are going to war;
& Poets are going to pour it all out again & again for minds that can't seem to remember this.

"PoetsTruMental"

You Might Find In Hindsight..

you might find a man more prepared for life than I was
but you won't ever find a man more prepared for you.

"PoetsTruMental"

Next Time Around

Next Time Around

I swear it never fails...
Life watched me
fall for four,
Hit for the perfect score.
Then allow them to all fall apart.
Eventually I'll get the lesson; I'll get smart.
I can even play the next one out in the dark-

When I make it to your heart
and I actually figure you out,
You'll be quick to shout:
"nigga get out!"
More in fear than you'll be in love.
When I show you as if I've had enough and begin to walk,
you'll start to think my love was just lust-
never strong enough to begin with.
But I'll just be showing you my words were far more than talk.
More in love than in fear with you,
your words and minor infractions
will cut deeper than anyone elses harshest actions.
Pain plus Pleasure equals Passion...
And I won't be able to imagine
having this style of love fit me
in a better or similar fashion.
Our past will be so intense!
Still, we'll hold on to the past tense.
What I'll do to your head will be hard to erase; Hard to rinse.
We'll just lather and repeat,
stalling under the heat of the water,
that's scalding, boiling, yet spoiling,
to our fears of being alone.
So we'll loan our bodies to each other
hoping we're collecting interest.
But we'll hardly invest the rest-
Your heart will be yours.
And my mind will be mine.
An in and out battle for control,
we'll just end up wasting each other's time.
But life is full of seconds
and every minute in it isn't a given.
The time we share is actually the power,
We'll just be holding on to hours.

~Brennan

"PoetsTruMental"

Unstitched Butterflies

Unstitched Butterflies

There’s a lesson in every lesion,

A reason for every impression.

So I occasionally undo the stitches

(At a rate of every other month in every season)

And enter in search of the forgotten caveat.

Bypassing the motifs & awing designs.

Familiarities have a tendency to keep your attention.

(Like how my name once sat atop your flower)

I bear in mind not (in heart),

The moral is what I seek,

Never the episodes-

(So I don’t recall the many nights spent under your movements)

No matter how tempting.

I can’t salvage it all,

So I never linger longer than it takes a tear to fall.

(Though my glossy eyes now match yours then)

I only take what I can bring with me safely-

The Ideas and wisdoms from the aftermath.

In no way is it ever tangible.

(Except for the pictures of you and I fixed in a happier moment)

As quickly as I’m in,

I’m out.

Stitching back up the seams to a past realm.

(Content with the immeasurable time spent playing with butterflies)

~Brennan

"PoetsTruMental"

RealEyes

RealEyes

She peers back at me with the intent to love--
By any means necessary.
Breaks away only to carry on her daily tasks;
But returns right back to the eyes that admire her.
Admiration beyond her phenotype--
Intelligence,
Principles, &
Naivete (we know not what the other always knows).
She is very aware herself as my focus--
How I blink,
Only to view her exhibition with crystal clarity;
And how I rest,
To remind me that dreams won't know a beauty like reality.
She loves the scrutiny.
I adore how her smile grows from my intimate concentration.
I love even more,
The faces she makes during penetration.
Her eyes widen with gratitude,
I personally see my worth in their magnitude.
She's crazy about me taking in her everything.
Even when I'm giving her the side eye,
My peripheral doesn't miss her complexity;
I don't overlook her strange.
Nights spent wishing,
Days spent searching,
For someone to notice--
With eyes that are omniscient,
That reflect upon ourselves.
Realize our value exists inside each others eyes,
The reason we walk the earth for--
Find eyes that make you worth more,
Fine eyes that don't lie.

~Brennan R.


"PoetsTruMental"