Stewart F. Brennan - Blog

The Activist Poet Wins Bronze

Tue, 24 Feb 2026 09:49:19 GMT

Hello everyone! Just dropping a few lines to keep my mind sane as all the world leaders jump off the cliff of insanity.

Lines from songs and poems lace my thoughts today as I, “breathe deep the gathering gloom, and watch lights fade from every room,” <<<(Graeme Edge – Moody Blues)

I love those two lines, which are taken from the poem ‘Late Lament’, written by Graeme Edge of the Moody Blues (full poem embedded below taken from their album, ‘Days of Future Passed’)…The Moody Blues is one of my favorite bands by the way. 😉

Like everyone else in, my generation, <<<(The WHO now comes to mind), music captured my feelings and emotions and drove my imagination down common and uncommon roads. However, lyrics captured my essence, especially when I was, oh so very young <<<(Cat Stevens 😊) they flowed through me and pulled at my thoughts and feelings; lyrics wrapped in music by my favorite bands and artists such as The Beatles, John Lennon, the Rolling Stones, Pink Floyd, Genesis, Al Stewart, Cat Stevens and of course, the Moody Blues…and there are many, many others of course.

However, it was a tenth grade English teacher from my high school that pointed out the bridge between lyrics in music and poetry. By playing the music of my favorite bands and artists in class and then analyzing the lyrics, a deep fascination and understanding pulled me closer to poetry. I soon began trying to express my deepest feelings and intuitions in poetry which I kept mostly to myself. (A teenage thing apparently. 😉)

I continued writing poetry for a few years after high school, but life’s patterned programs and conveyor belt have a way of pulling us in different directions than we want to go and away from the things we love and enjoy. So, for a number of years I fell away from writing for myself and fell into the technical fields that society’s patterned programs are meant to do, which is to steal one’s attention and energy.

Yet, over the years, even though I wasn’t writing my own script in life, poetry remained at the back of my mind like a flickering candle in the wind <<<(Yes, Elton John, you were one of my favorites as well) but my poetry only resurfaced after I had crashed off of the slave diggers superhighway of attention theft and burned…in those ashes of my burned out life (low battery), I began to see things around me which had been a blur on that highway. I began to see what life was really about and that humanity was travelling in the wrong direction…

I had experienced an intellectual and spiritual awakening, and began to write about the hard realities and injustices of this world in rhythm and rhyme and sometimes in the quatrain style of Nostradamus <<<(Al Stewart 😉).

I tried to condense, and capture my feelings and insights in poetry but of course, being up to date on geo-political and economic trends while being more mature from that teenage version of me, made me unafraid to express myself. However bold I felt I was, the darker forces that run the digital programmed online world, pushed back…It seems they don’t like free thinkers or people who question the establishments twisted narratives and so like many others speaking truth to power, the dark shadows of online censorship shadow banned my expressive writing.

Which brings me to the main reason why I dropped these lines.

Through all of the battles and censorship I’ve experienced over the past 13 years, I received word today that my book ‘The Activist Poet – Volume IV’ won the bronze medal in the 2025 Reviewer’s Choice Awards. (YAY! 😊)

I can’t tell you enough how important an achievement that is for me. It’s not about winning, it’s about being heard. I’m actually quite ecstatic for this recognition…recognition that sends life’s energy and inspiration through one’s soul to, carry on <<<(CSNY 😉)

Not only do I feel vindicated but it feels good to know that others read my book and enjoyed it so much as to give me an award…it means the world to me. A great big ‘Thank you!’ goes out to Reader Views and to the reviewers who basked in the light <<< (Led Zeppelin) of what I wrote and decided it was worthy of an award. 😊 Thank you ever so much!

And since I’m talking about books, I’m now finishing up the last two chapters of my second novel (72,000 + words to the good and counting) I can’t wait to share it with everyone. 😊

Thanks for listening, everyone. Have a great day! Oh, and here's the poem by Graeme Edge I Promised.

Late Lament
(By: Graeme Edge)

Breathe deep the gathering gloom
Watch lights fade from every room
Bedsitter people look back and lament
Another day's useless energy spent
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one;
Lonely man cries for love and has none;
New mother picks up and suckles her son;
Senior citizens wish they were young

Cold-hearted orb that rules the night
Removes the colours from our sight
Red is grey is yellow white
But we decide which is right
And which is an illusion

Finding Light in that Dark Place

Thu, 01 Jan 2026 22:54:18 GMT

When my father died in 1988 and then my brother in 1996, they left deep holes within me that I tried to fill, but the only thing that seemed to fill those gaping holes was alcohol. Although my grip on alcohol really started in my teens from having to wash away the abuse that happened to me when I was 10, and 15.

So, the drinking really started in my teens but became heavier after the death of my father and then my brother. For the longest time, from the age of 10, I never really felt like I fit in anywhere. The soul within me seemed older.

After years of alcohol abuse and a failed marriage, depression set in and I hit rock bottom. I was homeless for a bit but then managed to find a place to live where I began to question myself, feeling like I had let my family and the few friends I had, down. I tried to hide myself away but that left me with dark thoughts and a conscience where my father and brother stared back at me in silence.

After the marriage failed in 2002, I then went through a major depression to the point that I could not function at all. I saw a doctor, who insisted I take time off work. He prescribed medication as well which meant that I had to stop drinking alcohol for a while to take the pills…and so I did. And here I have to tell you that after a while without drinking, I felt, and then saw the demon within me, shrivel up and die. (No joke)

I met someone over the internet in 2002-2003 that had a calming effect on me. A new relationship began to bud in my life and I felt like I had both feet on the ground again.

It wasn’t long before I began to casually drink, but this time I was able to see myself as I was and decided to stop. I finally gave it up in 2005, the day before my 45th birthday. My deceased brother Danny also had an influence on my decision as he had died of a massive heart attack at the age of 44 and I felt myself going in the same direction, and so on March 22nd, 2005, as a promise to my brother Danny, and to myself, I gave up smoking and drinking.

Giving up drinking was easy because I drank very rarely at that point in time, however, giving up smoking? That was really hard. Anyone that has quit smoking will tell you about the strong pull like being attached to chains and routines, or the bargaining from that nicotine demon, the anger brought on by the nicotine withdrawal and the stress it puts on family and friends because of the sudden mood swings. It was like being a wounded bear in the woods, snarling on two feet and swatting at the air…this too did pass and because I lived in the country and had a forest to snarl in, I was able to beat the addiction. Being alone in a natural place allowed me to battle the demons within while steering clear from the cliff of self destruction.

People know how stubborn I can be. My brother certainly saw it when I was a teenager, and had no problem telling me about how frustrating I could be. I’m pretty sure others have seen it since, although, today, it is from a position of knowledge and not a position of belief. I certainly can appear very stubborn in my ways, and I’m not afraid to speak my mind.

Anyways, there is a song I found during my World United Music project, that really resonated with what it felt like as I went through and emerged from this darkness. The song is called “Never Again” by Griffin House, from his 2007 album “Homecoming”.

Have you ever had a song that felt like it was written especially for you? This one did it for me. The lyrics are below but unfortunately this websites will not allow me to embed the song. However, if you click on this link Griffin House - Never Again it will take you to the song on YouTube. So, if you’ve made it this far in reading my post, have a listen to the song and read the lyrics to understand why it resonated so well. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Wishing you a healthy, prosperous and happy New Year!

~ Stewart ~
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Never Again – Griffin House

Never again am I gonna give my heart to a bullshit cause
I've had enough of lies and dark
Never again am I gonna waste my time on a bullshit road
It's never been a friend of mine

Simple words from a simple man
Take me as I am 'cause there's no guarantee I'll ever change
To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why
Ah, forgive me any way I go

Father, I know, I feel like I'm made to let you down
Brother, I know, I'm failing to come through
To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why
If you lead me anywhere I'll go

Well, it's plain to see that I don't fit in
And I tried to find a place to hide
My body's always been too young for the soul that's trapped inside
But I'd show the color of my eyes to everyone around
And it'd take an angel seven years to come and calm me down

I'll never understand myself or know the reasons why
In my bed alone at night I learned to be afraid to die
My soul is frozen stiff inside my skin
Paralyzed by thoughts that I've let in

Father, I know, I feel like I'm made to let you down
Brother, I know, I'm failing to come through
To feel like this, to know distress, to always wonder why
If you take me... anywhere I'll go

Wherever you are going... take me by the hand
If you lead me... anywhere I'll go

A what-ever-you-call-it

Mon, 29 Dec 2025 09:45:34 GMT

Recently, I happened upon a 1978 letter I received from my deceased brother, Danny (1951-1996), from when he was living in Labrador City, Newfoundland.

It was a reply to a letter I had sent him before my 18th birthday on what I was up to with my silly teenage burdens and the political situation in Quebec. My letter also contained a few of my rhyming poems of that time.

In my brother’s return letter, he gave me advice and encouraged me to pursue my passions, of whatever it was I enjoyed, be it as a DJ, a writer or whatever my passion was. He said, “Look for something which you will enjoy doing for the rest of your life, and you will be successful.” Great advice from an older brother, at a time when everything seemed possible.

However, in today’s day and age, it’s easy to say, but hard to do in a world controlled by gatekeepers that won’t allow exposure to those of us who speak out on the crimes committed by the ruling class. I guess you know by now that I chose to write. lol

My brother also made the space in his letter to give me a little constructive criticism, saying that, “You’re hard to get along with because you don’t listen.” 😉 Well, that was and is true to a point, even now, I guess. However, there are some things I just can’t listen to, such as bullshit. LMAO

What captured my attention the most in his letter however, was something he said about my writing,

“You write very good letters and very good phrases or Poems, or what-ever-you-call-them?”

I started laughing (in the present) because I could never put my finger on what it was that I was writing. I used to think of them as poems but that label never really fit my political expressions and rebellion and I never really followed the rules in poetry to be called a poet. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever been a good rule follower in Quebec society, especially if it forced me to do something like learn French or submit to inoculations against my will, but mostly because my rebellious self prefers equality, justice, honesty and peace of mind. 😊

But a “what-ever-you-call-them” seems like the perfect description for my activist rhyming stanza’s, couplets and poems. So, I’d like to share a ‘what-ever-you-call-it’ with you today, that speaks of the current dystopia via our national division, coldness to each other and disunity that seems to be forever under a cloud of illusions.

A ‘what-ever-you-call-it’ is a political expression or rebellion of how things really are or how I feel about those in control. They are usually in stanza form with an explanation below them where I get to shine light in dark places. (See the Activist Poet books) The one I share with you today is more of a rhyming prose, what-ever-you-call-it.

So, here it is, my what-ever-you-call-it, post for today.
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I’m lucky. Lucky to be alive in twenty-five after my health took a sudden dive. I feel, like a new man made of steel, the wounds did heal, and I’m back with my old zeal.

But I still feel the pains and strains from oncoming trains, and the drains that left our communities sprained in divisions of the brain. I mean, two point five billion for Ukraine? When our economy’s under strain?! That’s insane! Has the mystery of history taught us nothing?

Oh yes, the good ole days…those days when we were raised, phased and praised, are gone. Days when the only thing that seemed to matter was keeping up with the chatter and fitting in with the others. Keep your nose to the grind, stay confined and never mind the man behind the curtain.

‘I remember when’ unfolds today with its brilliant light. A time when we knew wrong from right; the height of delight, when most were polite…and upright. We thought we would live forever under that bubble of seclusions or were they just delusions in a pool of illusions?

However that may be, the days we see today are filled with dark shadows, where division of the nation by rules made by fools, and tools of the ruling ghouls, that champion those cesspools of narratives; are now doubling down.

And reality is worse; we’ve been divided since birth, for what is our worth all over the earth if they take our fire and hearth and enslave us to poverty by the barrel of a gun?

It seems the criminals are in charge, by and large, with no way to discharge their parge on our homes. Scavengers, every one; candidates that grow like mold and then unfold like cancer of the brain that takes over the veins and arteries of our nation. A festering scourge that we cannot purge for it employs our delusion within the illusion of their so-called way of life.

And as that poison runs its course, to catch us all; where one by one we fall into their squall, as they build their wall and gate our disunity, the majority remain deaf, dumb and blind.

I plea with thee to see, for we might agree on community, and how that looks with a guarantee for our family tree. If we stand together, put community first, all the pain would be reversed. We’d no longer be cursed or disbursed but in unison on common ground.

Let us begin the new year without fear; to persevere and engineer a new path and frontier. That we might turn the page on this disastrous age and engage together, to navigate the weather and build that beautiful dream, that supreme theme, called Canada.

Thanks for reading my, ‘what-ever-you-call-it’.