Long Guavas Poems
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Entertainment in My Youth
By Franklin Price
revised and reformatted to poetic prose
(an experiment for me)
5/28/2017
Entertainment came quite easy, I could do it for myself. The public library had lots of books, they stored them on the shelf. I could check them out, and from them, could travel anywhere. See the world through reading and never leave my chair.
I could go outside and eat an orange, or I could ride my bike. A safer place it was back then; could go anywhere I liked. Could go across the river, a week-end show to see, a dime spent on a Saturday was admission there for me. Cartoons and several serials; Flash Gordon comes to mind. Still in downtown Cocoa, the building you will find. Movies shown no longer, plays are there for you to go. The State Theater still entertains; so go enjoy the show.
After the show was over, to Goulds old store we went. Such a magic place for kids, some allowance there we spent. Had military equipment and special things galore. If we had been the least bit rich, we may have bought the entire store.
If we were lucky, when we left, to cross to the Island side, the draw bridge would be opening and the tender let us ride. We stood in the middle as the bridge swung half around, blocking the cars, passing the boats to far off places bound.
At night we had a radio; no TV 'til fifty-three. We would gather close and listen to special programs there for me: The Shadow knew, Lone Ranger too, fights on Friday night. The music of the Grand Old Opry made listening just right. We played some games both board and card; the donkey's tail did pin. I was the youngest, not as smart, sometimes they let me win: Monopoly, Checkers, Old Maid, and cards of War. The table's space was not enough so we played them on the floor.
If we needed money there was a jelly factory near. The product made from guavas; the need for them was clear. The trees grew wild, or maybe not ,with buckets we would go; fill them up and take them to the factory for some dough.
Much more entertainment I could tell you without fail. Some things we did there, in the past, may now get days in jail. So I think I'll stop for now and let you imagine all the rest. My childhood life was more than good, it was the very best.
Once had been to distant relatives place.
Captured a glimpse of scenery -a roomy astounding garden located in their backyard.
It was a biggish "wow" for us.
The whole day we played forgetting our mum and dad.
As I am deeply attached to nature~
observing those tall standing trees,tiny little plants,swift flying birds were such gratifying..
Had a peaceful brisk walk & got thoroughly drenched in satisfaction.
Time was gliding very agile.
Further, we began to explore more curiously & hurriedly..
Climbed on the tree picked reachable guavas, blackberries,gooseberries, mangoes and gobbled them with hearts contentment.
We swung ,played,slept on the branches for that entire day(..to be monkeys for a day was thrilling ..though we didn't realise at that moment ;-) )
Me and my little brother filled our school bags full of fruits to carry home along with us.
My inner heart compelled to steal away the bountiful garden.
But sad ..practically that seemed impossible!
Aah.. still I reminisce that "one day"experience..
it was such soothing to be in that environment which was dressed in lush greenery and flowers,butterflies decorated as it's ornaments.
Everyday we dream of having a desired garden like that ~in future ..
if we ever own a house.
11-6-2020
5th place in the Contest.
Note:Garden Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart.
It's late, lo. I knew that the water I saw was mirage.
This is a world where, often, facts and fancies camouflage
Depths that seem unfathomable are shallow when measured.
Within wombs of tombs that seem empty, riches are treasured.
The structure that looked like a passage was, in truth, a wall.
Doesn’t my crammed glance make the earth resemble a ball?
How could crows dine guavas at night? Lo, they were mega-bats.
Waiting under guava trees, I didn't know, were black cats.
Peeping through the brick holes of Kutab Minar, I feel giddy.
While I could reach the top, are the stairs now playing kiddy?
Each move of being is filled with likes, dislikes, dreads, and fears.
Equally in joys and sadness, as though raindrops flow tears
Running shoes, highway lanes, sleepless sleep, and suppressing thoughts
Each act, as though steering sailboats, becomes threads full of knots.
Is this shop I find between this and this bush mere confusion?
Aren't facts of truth tested in hot furnaces of illusion?
I knew that the water I saw was a mirage.
Unfathomable depths seemed shallow when measured.
This is a world where facts and fancies camouflage
Within wombs of empty tombs, riches are treasured.
The sketch that looked like a wall was, in truth, a pole.
Beasts that dined on guavas at night weren't crows but bats.
My crammed glance makes the earth resemble a ball
I pause and cut short my tours, confronting black cats.
Peeping through the holes of Qutab Minar, I faint.
Shouldn't I reach the top? Should I simply go back?
With colours of likes and dislikes my walls I paint.
With burdens of pessimism, my corridors crack.
Are these angels I find herein mere illusions?
Are these candours that have been tested, delusions?
Many a fruit I have tasted,
And wasted,
Many a fruit I have flirted with,
And soon broken up with.
Many a fruit I have refused a dance,
And never given a second glance.
Many a fruit has scent that still sucks me in
And its perfect skin forbidding me to throw it in the bin.
My tastes have matured now,
And Guavas in a can, are all I desire now,
My only regret I did not taste a Guava in a can sooner,
And plant my guava tree a few years sooner.
I will be ever grateful to the one who first put fruit in a can,
As fresh guava down under,
I may never taste, try as I can,
As fresh guava never seems to cross our border down under.
Never mind I have my strawberry patch,
And the peach trees will bear fruit next year,
Never will fresh cream be too far away for me to fetch,
And as there are always ships at sea full of bananas,
Never will I have to say "yes we have no bananas".
Every morning and evening, I happen to watch parrots,
A pandemonium always adorns my guava tree;
Each parrot seems unique, having its very quaint merits,
Like angelic souls, they seem in physique and psyche free...!
What a strong jambiya dagger curved bill! Vertical stance!
Green drainpipe pants-clad legs! Clawed zygodactyl stylish feet!
The parrots that visit my tree in green the scene enhance,
In a romantic mood, merrily my guavas they eat...!
Splendidly observing humans, parrots mimic their speech,
So melodious is their Tabor pipe trumpeting song;
Ballet-like they grip, grasp, and at the highest top they reach,
A craft of the master craftsman, they're happy all day long...!
In my melancholic moods, parrots lift my heart and soul,
In gracing the charm of the world, parrots play a great role...!!!
nature thrives on bestrewn oddness.
earth is tame in its fresh safeness.
the same for the rest of the world.
yellow, black, and white are all furled.
The geese there on guavas feed.
Cows may swallow the grass and weed
ripe cornflowers peep from the rows
Whelps and brats on each other's paws
From the loud roar of the flood tide
A swell choir of birds bourns each sighed.
High-pitched sparrows nod while they sing.
As crows with coal-eyes play pied string
calm and cool waters of the bay
clear and blue in the light of day.
but when darkness begins to fall.
it is the root sea's soothing call.
Written: March 30, 2022
Desire and lust
Spread everywhere
As if sand of a desert.
Climbing up a slippery tree
A naughty boy lucks green guavas.
Standing before a mirror
An impotent colors his white hair
To feel false taste of fugitive youth.
With anxiety, the hungry earth
Asks the greedy sun
To know her identity.
What aptness spreads
Brightness in the solar system ?
Planets, satellites, stars-all are curious.
With mouth broad open
Black holes look blank !
Who is he, running on the milky way ?
Somewhere, perhaps a helpless woman
After satisfying the lust of a libertine
Picks up her saree to hide her womanhood.
The Florida of My Youth – Work
By Franklin Price
10/11/2019
Was not born with silver spoon, that dangled from my lips
Had enough to eat and drink, but not for extra sips
Could not get a real job, until fourteen years or more
With some imagination, I would earn some bucks before
Collected empty bottles from the grass beside the road
Cashed them in, for two cents each, a dollar was a load
Picked guavas, growing in the wild, and took the gathered lot,
To the Factory, on the Island, for the jelly in the pot.
Sold salve, I found in comic books, by going door to door
Was not the Fuller Brush man or would have earned a little more
Headed shrimp at Port Canveral, from the many shrimp boats there,
Should have been a little older, but the boss man didn't care
It was another time and place, when you helped out if you might,
To earn a little money, for the exras, seemed so right
Gave me a good work ethic, and it made me feel real good
To contribute to my wants, not needs, in any way I could
When old enough to have a job, I got my SSN
Did not get at your birth, in those days of old, back then
Got a job at SS Kresge, cleaning tables, washing floors
And dishes at the counter, long ago it closed its doors
Had my driver's liscense so I drove myself to work
Earned a dollar for an hour, it was really quite a perk
Gas twenty cents a gallon and burgers but a dime
Used a Georgia Credit card, didn't see it as a crime
When I got to High School, I worked at a different store
Was at WT Grant, where I earned a little more
A dollar and a quarter, for an hour, I was rich
Could now afford new tires, that would keep me from the ditch
Learned about the business, stocked and priced the items there
Designed and decorated diplays, in the windows, with great care
Watched out for shop lifters, even caught me one or two
Everything that I was told to, was everything that I would do
When I graduated High School, I went on to BCC
Found that college education was not the thing for me
In March of 1965, I enlisted in the Force
Not the Army or the Navy but the good old Air of course
Summer dances in the hills
dressed in colors of the fields
golden braids sunlit skin
velvet gown aquamarine
veil of flowers lilac pink
saffron diamonds ruby ring
on her hair a crown of green
with cerulean sparkling beads
chartreuse shoes, coral lips
rose fragrant lily mix
skipping dancing with the wind
in her arms a basket fill
guavas lemons nectarines
watermelons cherries figs
poppy flowers golden wheat
chasing crickets bumble bees
till the leaves festive green
turn to golden fallen tears
then twirling waves goodbye
colors mist rise and vanish
with a wink return a smile.
Sixth Place Winner: Brian Strand-No 1291-3/3/24
Sixth Place Winner: Brian Strand Premiere No 1202-3/25/23.
First Place Winner: Brian Strand-All Yours-3/6/21