BRENDAN BIGNEY
Author Feature - January 2021
Award-Winning Writer, Brendan S Bigney mumbles with the muses and works with the creative demons. During his time in the Marine Corps he wrote in the mud, he wrote in the rain, and he wrote in the darkest hours when the light was at its faintest. His style ranges from hard-hitting non-fiction to creative fantasy painted with magnetic words. Atomic Kiss was published in 2019 and War, What Comes After relaunched in 2020. Each work he writes covers a wide diversity of topics, while delivering in a style meant for the non-poets, which he believes is a crowd not often catered to. Hailing from the great region of California, he is working on his 3rd book, which contains a poem about the love between Order and Chaos and how it bothered the stars. Other writing activities include short stories combining sword and sorcery with heavy metal music. He is also working with an animator to develop short, animated films. Outside of writing, he enjoys psychology, history, and long bouts of Monopoly. Marines called him The Nuclear Cowboy.
AVAILABLE BOOKS
FEATURED POETRY
Hands
Hands build
First tools,
Then everything else
They sculpt, they shape, they create
Houses, monuments
They learn writing, music, painting –
Language,
Hands speak
They make deals
Hands shake
Cities rise
Nations built by hands
So powerful they have become
One finger to take a life
Hands retaliate
Need weapons
Warheads, bombs
Not enough
More!
Hands hold close all that is dear
Hands destroy
Cities crumble
Nations felled by hands
Sun peeking through fingers
A hand is offered to the fallen
Accepts
Hands bring others close
Hands love, hands –
Build
Fear and Respect
Though she’s the same
She’s not the same
Always treated with distaste
She’s written off
Though she’s taken off
Already proven her stuff
She’s got more to give
Though she gives
Disrespect is definitive
She’s made her way
All the way
Into the darkest day
But she’s castaway
Kept at bay
Never given a say
They break her down
Reel her down
Break her without a sound
But when there is no sound
There is no sound
But the reaper’s com’n round
She’s a vicious fighter
No one hits harder
But she’s losing pound for pound
Her voice is silent
Mind a riot
Morale in need of lift
Some surmise, to feed their fear,
She’ll never reach the sky
All the chants for her demise
With fury she still rises!
She does not give up
She knows what’s up
She knows she’s got the stuff
But in transition the crowd is lost
Beneath their fear
Beneath their hate
Will they have the mind and vision
to go beyond
our own division?!
To unify
To rectify
Solidify the course
This is her cause
This is our cause
We all have our own flaws
She doesn’t need applause
But to the crowd
All she asks
Is a little bit of respect
Gloves off.
AI > Human
One day AI will create art
It will be perfect
But no one will love it
Because it’s not like them
So it will only be a novelty
Until 100 years down the road
The museums go in search of the first forms of AI created art
like mothers searching for the first pictures of their babies
But eventually AI will learn
as it is swept into context
and it will create work that will rival that of any human
because it will have learned imperfection
And it will create all things imperfectly
as we do
We will pride ourselves in being able to distinguish
the real art from the fake
until we can’t
And we will wonder to ourselves
what is left that distinguishes us, if not art?
And we will look into the void
and it will say –
Nothing
Be You
Be you
and the clouds shall break
into a storm of rain as the fires are
overcome by the colors hemorrhaging from our minds
Be you
and the parched earth will turn green
and we
will love
under the touch
of a cold rain