The tall and crippled old man,
lived in a mysterious old house.
Many said the two went together,
like pasta and tomato sauce.
He left his mysterious home by car,
and only in the early mornings.
What is his name ~ where did he come from?
The mysterious house held secrets.
there was a young lass named Mame
who thought she was headed for fame
she wanted to be a mime
but ran out of time
she talked too much and had only herself to blame
Paul talked tough, said he wanted to pulverize his enemy
But didn’t have one as far as any of us roommates could see
I’d mangle and maim them like a warrior wrecking ball
His only enemies are on video games, our friend Paul
Talked to a star one night
It whispered
From behind a greying cloud
“I’m lonely”
It seems stars are so busy shining
They have little time to chat
They find it ironic that we humans
Write so much about them
Attribute to them strange powers
Of auric ascendancy.
I whispered back
Lest I be thought mad
By other star gazers
“I am lonely also”
It seems that we humans are so busy
Gazing at the stars
We lose track of one another
Stand alone wondering
Why the moonlight is so cold
And the stars seem so sad.
We decided to shine together
And whisper
“Come join us any starry night”
We sat and talked all through the night
Your heart and mind in a confusing fight
Heart says you love him, your mind says why
Your heart says hard to explain so please just try
Heart says his eyes say a lot, he has emotional layers
Mind says wake up, smell the coffee, he’s just a player
Heart says but I love him, I can’t let him go
Mind says he’s a player and time will show
We sat and we talked, you became sad
Confusion swept over you, you should be mad
He came back after silence for 6 long weeks
The confusion is what does he seek
We sat and we talked, and you asked why
Then you sat there and began to cry
I shed a tear with you tonight
Your Pain is my pain, I can’t make this right
my girlfriends have talked me into a vacation
at Crystal Bridges in Arkansas, a four hour drive
I kept calling it Ruby Bridges, getting it mixed up with the book.
Three of us decided we need to go there to celebrate my retirement.
I chose the month – October.
There are now eight of us who want to go.
Some wanted to spend one night.
Four of us want to spend two nights.
I do not relish driving four hours two days in a row.
Driving is one of the main reason I decided to retire.
I will keep you posted, closer to October.
By then we might have to rent a party bus.
Some are like gold in your life
Some are gold-plated
Know the difference
Because this will show you the reality of life
You can be lied on
Talked about, plotted against
And still, win
Often people try to spin you in
A direction that is not linked to your purpose
Break free and see the glory of your story
Every season of life
Should give you a reason to try again!
As you retrain your mind
And remove the blind spots that
Often plague human lives
You will realize that you are stronger than the storm
Getting up and trying again should be the norm so
Know who is gold and who is gold-plated in your life
This will make a difference
Because this will show you the reality of life
Yet in the end, you can be lied on
Talked about, plotted against
And still, win
Mark Frank
Copyright 2023
My mom asked if I wanted to go in.
He knows, and he’s waiting to tell us.
He tells us that I’m a weirdo.
He tells us that I’m quiet, and shy, and going to be like that forever.
And there’s nothing we can do about that.
He smiles, evilly.
He smiles, in pity.
I’ll never see him again.
I’ll have to go home right after.
To do homework.
I’m in my room, and it’s silent.
I know she’s downstairs,
I know she’s mad that I’m like this.
We never talk anymore.
Like we did when I was a kid.
I learned it’s better that way.
Now I know I was right.
I was talked into going to France by a persuasive friend.
Was not into it until I arrived. It was a magical place.
The Louvre is unbelievably chic and classy.
I truly enjoyed the musee d’orsay
The arc de triomphe is something you do not want to miss.
Luckily you see the Eiffel tower no matter where you are in Paris.
I ended up staying longer than my friend, smelling French roses.
Drinking their wine, trying to learn their language.
Next year I plan to return and stay much longer.
I have put a collage together, representing the highlights.
Made into a bit of a window, it sits above my breakfast table.
Coaxing me back into the world of the Parisians.
When men hunted as a group
facing danger as a troop
heartbeat pounding on a loop
probably with pee and poop
silently they’d gravitate
encircle as they separate
yet as one coordinate
attacking to eliminate
get it wrong it could be fatal
survive it and be very grateful
facing death becoming faithful
gamble when the risk is fateful
and when you are that courageous
experiencing that what is dangerous
part of a team requires trust
surviving what could see you crushed
you can laugh and you can banter
because the danger doesn’t factor
what isn’t fatal doesn’t matter
so men make jokes and women chatter
as women looked after the young
the sleeping baby to noisy ones
mums sharing with other mums
learning what others have done
that means talking back and forth
to offer help and give support
while men hunting’s a silent sport
so women talk while men fall short
relying more on what they’ve heard
a sensitivity has occurred
while men make jokes poke fun and stir
in ways that women find absurd
I am muse-walking,
~~ writing a poem.
The phone rings -
it’s my pal.
Something my mouth says
makes us both laugh.
At the same time,
one of my hands
is searching for the image
I was just about to find,
before the cell phone fractured it.
"Yea come over I’m doing nothing."
I am almost touching a black cat
in a dark room,
almost see it evaporating
on the threshold of nowhere.
We exchange ‘see-yer’ lingo.
Alone again,
my mind reverts to being
a heat-seeking sea anemone.
Sadly, the unfinished poem
has turned into a small owl,
perched on a thin tree
in the Andes.
Each moment he had to grieve,
He would his chest widely heave
But while he did often walked
And sometimes easily talked!
Sorrow not the same as Chain:
Not what should halt Moving Train;
So, while crying use your brain
And tears you could dry with sleeve;
In a way would you relieve:
One may one’s handkerchief leave
And in Finesse not believe...
Some moments one had to grieve
It was for a sought reprieve…
Drag racing is fun my pushy neighbor said, pleading.
I did not dare go, myself always caught speeding.
I could picture myself in one of those bashed up cars.
Smashed up and injured, later maybe behind jail bars.
She coaxed and persuaded, and took me any way.
Watching three red Ferraris wreck kind of made my day.
I have no idea why, but this wild drag racing madness is fun.
Please tell me why you think this is if you ever go to one.
102
Talked to dad
In my dreams
I’ll see him
On the out
And tell him
It’s no big deal
He didn’t visit
Or write
Just glad he’s back
In my life
I parked my car beside the bay
The sign said please don't feed the seagulls
I enjoyed the view for a minute or two
when a large and older seagull walked, not flew,
but slowly, purposefully ambled up then stood there waiting by my window.
He patiently lingered as his white and gray feathers were ruffled and fingered
by the gusting chill wind
He looked up then away, never making eye contact,
obviously hoping for a morsel.
This expectation was indication
that the notice had been resisted,
and there had been some who had thrown a crumb
to feed the begging birds
I stayed warm in the car while the wind blew cold, and my feathery friend persisted.
I had no scrap to give him as I seldom eat in my vehicle
Had I something, would I have shared, considering the sign?
I don't know
perhaps,
but I don't know
I know that in standing and waiting, he was thus communicating,
so it's safe to say that in a way
a seagull talked to me today.
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