Long Sequester Poems

A transitional skill
my Mom taught me,
good to use when I start to feel at-risk,
somehow 
anyhow,
whether in my relationship with her,
or with EarthDays more kosmic travels 
through naturally wild 
and domestic spirits.

Remember to ask permission 
before...

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I cannot let this obsession with Coronavirus (COVID19) go
It is apparent, from the number of deaths projected, to be in the hundreds of thousands, that many Americans still are not heeding the warnings. I hope...

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The Battle Hymn of the Republic was the rallying song for the United States of America during the Civil War. It was written and published the first time in February 1862; shortly after the war...

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Hyperbolic quasi autobiographical prevarication...
caricature sketch of person best known to yours truly

What began as an honest 
to goodness attempt 
to craft personal truthful profile
evolved into a fictional poem
manifested into the following.

Despite the onslaught of paparazzi,
I...

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In the Far Off Land of China
(To the tune of the Battle Hymn of the Republic)
Edit 1
By Franklin Price
03/28/2020

In the Far off land of China many thousand miles away
The Coronavirus came to its first human...

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Paying The Bill
 
You may come to this some day
It may issue from nowhere
A moment un-strident
A loose flagging half remembrance
Something which neither carries
Nor contains
But a fickle shadow 
Thin and as meaningless with an empty whimper
Not...

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On a shattered pebble beach my kernel,
becomes this dervish dancing to the maniacal symbol rash tune,
of inchoate monsoon grass beat timpani,
that’s dimly frowned on by sonic virtuoso,
but terms like briny carrageen sea sweep gain purple...

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Oh, damn,  I get it, nowhowbrownsowcow-----that it's to be accepted on this site you need to be
the FATTED cow. Low of intellect, yet high on countenance, high on payment 
and low on quality! Please...

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Marcus Mosiah Garvey arose from a little town, yes my lord
A Leo lifting Harlem, kingdom bound, yes my lord
Resuscitated religion around the black man’s looks, yes my lord
Cuddling pickaxe, hoe, and cradling books, yes my...

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prosaic prologues bewitch 
   feeble minded scribe doth undertakes 
tend toward lugubriousness ring tone 
   for goodness sake

echoing across, 
   a figurative lake woebegone, where quake
shutters latched storm windows,...

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The Critics


This poem begins with a short story


Once upon a time in a land and time far, far away
People would listen to music
Read Novels
Read Poetry
Watch movies
Look at art
And decide for themselves
Whether or not it looked...

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Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge

inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between...

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writing by candle light like my literary Heros of years yester........................
.......................... what can I pull from my soul.. what gift can I sequester.....................
......................  As the pen Bleeds on to the paper
I realize I am...

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On Devil’s Night

There once was a devil queen  on Whispering Lane
Mean and cunning her crew driven insane
For millenniums hurling malice 
Content in her palace
Casting a malevolent muse throughout her reign

The King no longer amused...

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I was reading Michelle MacDonald’s superb piece of art “Sea Shanty”
Secretly, under the haiku master Katherine Stella’s “Yum Yum Tree”
When smiling Carol Brown, invited me to her grand “Surprise Party”

The charming lady of the soup...

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The Loner goes on
Imagining friends
He heads for a coffee
With hopes to an end
 
He looks at the counter
Then raises his head
And wonders why
All his looks are of dead
 
He picks at his pocket
Not sure what’s...

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Zealousness prevails to amass knowledge
lifequest nsync toward expansive lexicon
extant since yours truly kneehigh toddler
inquisitive mind fired passion to steep me
within inexhaustible voluminous treasure
trove housing increasing bound knowledge

inexplicable to thyself, wherefore heartfelt
ineradicable passion to sequester attention
between...

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The span interminable aeonia
glitter
stealthy as if in moonlight
blue to silverware
the grass sequester

Tip toes the indistinct
circumstance
summoning prescient
a moment
from a moment
tethers a heart to immolation 
virtuoso in instincts
inspiration

Her passage lay silken summer flower heads
misty ephemeral on enchanted...

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Circuitous circular departures cleverly Sequester and  
embrace Inexpressible  moments of time.

Reexamine status, prevent  consciousness apathy, 
fabricate and reflect acceptance of self. 

precisely propose  to expose fallaciously filtered 
fantastical trickery touched theories.

Turn tasteless translucent tall tales into stable,...

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The diamond ring you gave me did not remove the pain.
You must know it is not that simple to forgive.
The bouquet of roses you sent on Valentine did not remove the bruise.
A man's love does...

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Rainy Day People

There are the rainy day savers
those who never lose sight
of their emotional shore
choosing to sequester away
any possibility of a morsel of life’s celebrations
happening within this day…or any day
for surely the sun will come...

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To express the way (I) feel...

my spirit when I am with you
I do not want to leave...

This passion so free with you...

I disperse this freely unto you...

this place inside of me...
this pain inside hurts...

this stubbornness...

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At One With….

Still!  Perfect stillness
A verbless hermit
Present tense of the divine dawn
Ageless angelus -
No specter of yesterday
Vital youth of the ever eternal daystar
To a priceless creation before Genesis.

Motionless in meditation
The caress of flawless beauty...

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Velvet heart romantics sensual bounce, 
embolden relish despite an North Pole 
shiver amid the snowfall prism awning. 
Love-in-a-mist, synonym on damp Earth 
ground clay akin to scented daybreak
usher sown wistfully underneath a 
picturesque garden card...

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Far from educations superstition
In the barren fields they planted their tyranny 
Where the pagan made a cross of stars
In the green lands of their mysticism

Yet still by ancient tongue they have spoken
Be they a black...

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