Frankenberry's Attic

A Frankenblog

Behind The Red Door (poem)

On my way into work early last week, driving my usual route, a few backroads through some pretty suburbia (one of the reasons I take this way and not the main way) I noticed this one house, like really noticed it for the first time though I pass it every day. It has a striking red front door, how it hadn’t really caught my eye before I couldn’t tell you but, no matter, it did on this morning.

I think it did because recently I went to visit Mom in her assisted living facility for Mother’s Day and something about this red door seemed vaguely familiar, like maybe when I was kid we lived in a house behind a red door or maybe it was a red house?

So, this then is for Mom, who lives behind her red door in a different sort of house now, two of them.

I try bring some news.

Love ya Ma

–

Behind The Red Door

It fronts a house

Once center

Village open welcome

But

Floating hazy now outskirts

As doors don’t float but do

Lost in trees tall tangle roots shoots forest grasping edge of the old gathering square

Where voices were there

Their songs sung in unison

Once

They did declare!

High up into the air!

—

It’s a house with a red door

Please knock to tell something

Sell something

Even

Needed in

Village’s

Villager’s stories

All shared

But

Through bay whispy window tissue thin doilied curtains now floating like ghosts gently pushed aside

(mind you move away ghosts!)

To glance out

Please knock to sell me something

Tell me something

Are you the paperboy?

Do you have the news?

Have you heard of Linda?

I worry

—

It was a house with a red door

Open

Of many room’s 

Thoughts

Lived

Loved

Grand  castle with Nobles and Ladies

Knees bent

For wisdom’s grace

I have words

Had words

Want words

Can you hear them through whispy bay floating window tissue curtains now?

Through whispier lips?  

Behind the red door

Kind ghosts

But ghosts still

Oh, go away ghosts, shoo!!

—

Are you the paperboy?

Have you some news?

—

It’s a house with a red door

Flashing in

Out planes

Existence moving on wheels

Now

Through tangled grasping forest root shoots long hallways

Of village

New sort

To sort through and around in time lost

Trapped

Behind the red door

And …

So many different other colored doors

So many different castles

So many doors

—

It’s a house with a red door

Closed

No, ajar instead

Instead

Maybe can you see

Me

In

Through

Whispy bay floating window tissue curtains like ghosts?

Oh, go away ghosts, shoo!!

Please!!

—

Are you the paperboy?

Do you have some news?

Maybe of Linda?

I worry

Stephen J Frankenberry's avatar

Posted by:

Stephen J Frankenberry

Just some guy in a Pirates hat, with a couple O’ cats and this blog … yeah, that’s about it.

11 responses to “Behind The Red Door (poem)”

  1. Lobolopez Avatar
    Lobolopez

    Buenos días 🌞

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  2. Some Frankenstuff And a Kacey Shining On: A Share Of A Friend’s Podcast Avatar
    Some Frankenstuff And a Kacey Shining On: A Share Of A Friend’s Podcast

    […] Sometimes heartfelt (a good friend even noted “poignant” recently which I will certainly take) sometimes poetic, sometimes noticing beauty that can still be found in this world, sometimes of cats as well and […]

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  3. kim881 Avatar
    kim881

    It’s funny how we notice things like front doors, which evoke memories whithout us realising it. I like the way the red door led to your mother, Stephen’. I really like the repetition and these stream-of-consciousness lines:

    ‘Floating hazy now outskirtsAs doors don’t float but do’and

    ‘Through bay whispy window tissue thin doilied curtains now floating like ghosts gently pushed aside’.

    These lines in particular reminded me of my mother:

    ‘Please knock to sell me somethingTell me somethingAre you the paperboy?Do you have the news?’

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Stephen J Frankenberry Avatar
      Stephen J Frankenberry

      Thanks so much Kim. And the stream of conscious thing was initially intended but then I thought that maybe that is how she might think then so …

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. kim881 Avatar
        kim881

        You’re most welcome, Stephen.

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      2. Stephen J Frankenberry Avatar
        Stephen J Frankenberry

        Sorry Kim, that should have said the stream of conscious WASN’T initially intended …

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  4. Björn Rudberg (brudberg) Avatar
    Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    Love the way the red door captured your memories and that of your memories, the poem and the repetitions also made me think of my own mother and her dementia.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. Stephen J Frankenberry Avatar
      Stephen J Frankenberry

      Thank you Bjorn. Not the easiest of writes.

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  5. Grace Avatar
    Grace

    The house with a red door is a striking feature, and indeed many stories to be told. I like the conversational tone, specially the repetition of the Are you the paperboy?.

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    1. Stephen J Frankenberry Avatar
      Stephen J Frankenberry

      Much appreciated Grace, thank you!

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    Of Glasses, Old Men & Sisters

    […] a cat named Arthur and a one of just bits and pieces, a few things for Mom (so miss ya Ma … and this one) a couple of new parody tunes and re-posts of older ones, and quite a few poems (poems) and short […]

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