Tag: writing

An Extra Tuesday And An Oompa Loompa Song … Again

by Stephen J Frankenberry6 Comments on An Extra Tuesday And An Oompa Loompa Song … Again

Well, my PTO has finally rolled over (Paid Time Off by the way, not Paul Tried Origami or Patty’s Trusted Oncologist (hey that’s important) or Palantir’s Takeover Onesies and an owned from your get go cute baby t-shirt (which are all understandable mistakes … I’m with ya) … I’m only pointing/spelling out these possibilities as when as when I was first introduced to the acronym I worried that I was going to have to go to meetings in the town hall basement community room with Parents and Teachers and bad coffee and day old donuts and fold chairs into that long contraption that collects chairs at the end after listening to Madge drone on and on about whatever Madge drones on and on about.

I mean, I feel bad for the loss of Mr Sniffems Smarty Pants, who was like 98 in human years and walked with 3 canes (don’t ask), but somebody really needs to start a fund to get her another cat, and it’s even tacked on three extra days now as I have hit the ten year mark at the stations (Oh, you shouldn’t have, that was waaaaaay too kind and they were really nice, even the “Happy New Year!” “It’s Her Birthday!” and “You Finally Graduated Now Go Get A Job And Get The Hell Out Of The House I Have Plans For Your Room” ones you got in a bundled discount and I didn’t even know they had “So Sorry For Your Loss” balloons as well, but it’s the thought right?) so I figgr’d to add Tuesday to this already extended weekend and take my first renewed day.

A bit of a vacay if you will or staycay as I’ve heard it phrased by those in the witty cool know (and which is more my old man speed anyway) as I don’t go out, I don’t travel or have any need to, I don’t go to events, I’d even avoid my own funeral if I could get out of it, though that’s a question of the Devil, and a one that would probably be my last anti-social hurrah, I have even conditioned my friends to not trying to bother to ask their “Hey, what are you doing this weekend” questions and before I belabor this some more and repeat myself from an old post that explains it (it is here below) that explains more in full of how I don’t do, or care to, or give a shit to … plus it also comes with a really fun re-play of my version of the Oompa Loompa song by the way, if you haven’t already heard it, so don’t just dismiss me out of hand.

I have though noticed, over the last few years, that if use up my PTO time too early, like by a couple of months, as I always do, I spend those last couple of months being overly tired, on edge and noticeably scatterbrained.

“Well how about you dole them out with more of a plan then, so you don’t waste them too early”

‘Yeah, fuck you Captain Obvious, but you’re right”

“I told you”

Note: Never admit ANYTHING to Captain Obvious and give him a win. He’s a nice fella an all, well meaning surely, but he can be a bit of a dick in his judgements and condescension so that all you’re gonna wanna do is slap him upside the head or knee cap him if you know the right people but that shit takes time, so many layers there, including paying off your uncle’s debts (he’s always loved the ponies, they’ve just never loved him back) plus, violence is never the answer, at least not on an extra Tuesday.

Wednesday? Well, that’s up in the air.

This one extra day though? A Tuesday? More than welcome.

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April 2, 2024

So a friend, Drew, recently posted to the Facebook this meme …

… and I thought well, what if the Oompa’s showed up at the funeral of this meme guy, a fella named Bob maybe, whose ‘last mistake’ was actually his LAST mistake.

Now, if anyone was wondering why it’s been so long since I’ve had a girlfriend, probably not, well, this is the kind of thing that I think about and do for fun which goes a long way to explaining said singleness.

I don’t date, don’t go to movies, or dinner, or events, or play pickleball, or go “clubbin'” and whatever that might entail (sounds expensive and I ain’t got the wardrobe for it as I’m sure sweatpants aren’t gettin’ me past the bouncer) I don’t nature hike, I’m not a regular at any monthly game nights with friends, I don’t Church, I don’t Astrology (seriously? the phases and prickliness at holiday get togethers of Mars or Venus? Be more concerned with the “aura” of that rogue planet we pissed off in the late 40’s, I don’t go to family get togethers with anyone new and pretty in tow to make Aunt’s happy (Oh, “finally” they would say in small Aunt klatches quieting any busybody speculation), I don’t gym or bike or jog or even walk briskly, not that some exercise wouldn’t hurt, I don’t do anything in groups though the one’s I am not in might sometimes remark unfairly of such, no, I just do this sort of stuff and other writing things silly and not silly, oh, and I have full blown conversations with cats.

It’s amazing what you can learn about a cat’s daily by the way, if you just take the time to listen.

“Really? You meditated in a window in the sun (napped) while contemplating the mysteries of the universe (still napping) and then woke up and went to the litter box?!”

Yeah, that ‘single’ status ain’t changing anytime soon I don’t think.

Anyway, for the dearly departed Bob, who took one final unintended bus ride to the sky.

Oompa Loompa Bob Song

Oompa, Loompa, doompety-do
I’ve got a little story for you
Oompa, Loompa, doompety-dee
it’s about Bob so please listen to me

What do you get when you’re walking a street
Lost in your cell “hey, that video’s neat”
You don’t pay attention to what’s in your surrounds
Including that curb’s last mistake to be found

I don’t like the look of this

Oompa, Loompa, doompety-don’t
Step off that curb Bob please tell me you won’t
Oompa, Loompa, doompety-please
Lift your head, look around at that bus bearing down


… Ya big dope!

… Ya really dead dope!

… Oh, Bob

One White Leads To Another (revisit – song)

by Stephen J Frankenberry7 Comments on One White Leads To Another (revisit – song)

Thought to go back to something from a couple of years ago.

Originally a response to Ron DeSantis and his Ron dreamy land baron remembrances and his attempts at rewriting history, but, as the always obvious continues to become even more always obvious now, there is this and example of how honest, truthful and critical thought can fade given the right condemnation and empowered white grievance.

To The Fixx “One Thing Leads To Another”

The deception some white folks

Is want present false history

State by state they pass laws now

To hinder what kids can and cannot read

—

Just to protect them they claim

From truths about black and white

But when some books shed light

Difference wrong and right

That aren’t white enough they balk and they say

—

We’ll teach history no mention of trees

Oh when

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

—

The intention is to

Teach alternate washed whitey tales

Where there wasn’t a time then

Where justice judged with far different scales

It wasn’t baked into fabric since a father’s slave day

Where ownership was the way

But when an academic thought critiques that it’s never changed

They just ban CRT while they exclaim then

—

Teach history as only we can see

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

—

Yeah Yeah Yeah

—

One white one one white leads to another

—

Indoctrination is their fear into liberal ideology

That kids might fall not wanting them to  

To learn now how to actually think free

Hear opinions both sides even some they disagree

Can’t have them thinking that way

‘Cause if critical thought questions white supremacy

Indoctrinate instead with our own theories

—

We’ll teach history as only it can be

One white leads to another

We’ll point out wrongs in history’s long stories gone and then

One white leads to another

—

Yeah Yeah Yeah 

—
One white, one, one white, leads to another
(One white another)
One white, one, one white, can’t teach of others  
(One white another)

One white, one, one white, empowered white brothers
(One white another)
One white, one, one white Liberty mothers  
(One white another)

One white, one, one white, leads to another

(One white leads to another)

Songs of Angels & Devils Or Devils & Angels (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry8 Comments on Songs of Angels & Devils Or Devils & Angels (poem)

New Quadrille prompt this week and this one from Kim. It’s that dVerse Poets 44 worder that asks to include one word.

Here?

“Quiet”

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Songs of Angels & Devils or Devils & Angels

One sang itself as quiet

One sang itself as noise

Another tuned truth

While another lyric’d lies

Yet another was fear of light

And that one? Fear of night

Yet they sang, sung together

To confound

Leaving us decipher songs, sing on/of our own

Of Glasses, Old Men & Sisters (post-post)

by Stephen J Frankenberry2 Comments on Of Glasses, Old Men & Sisters (post-post)

So in the header for my blog here I do my best to give you an idea of what to expect if you decide to do some rummaging around some strange man’s attic or scream, after such, for help to anyone who might be listening on the front path three stories below to get you out of the shackles and chains (though, good luck with that – these are new double paned storm windows).

I mean, no site worth its salt doesn’t give you some sort of idea as to who or what is behind it and what to expect of its content right? Even if it’s just a pithy slogan.

News sites are good for that.

Washington Post – “Democracy Dies In Darkness” … or at the end of a slinking, weak willed, million dollar pen for an inauguration fund.

“Fair and Balanced / Most Watched, Most Trusted” … always with the jokes and works in progress for them there folks over at Fox “News” huh?

Voice of America “… choke … gasp … Kari … suicidal thoughts … reels … choke … the devil’s handmaiden … Lake …” Ok, that one’s a little lengthy and ungainly.

“This is CNN” … boring and noncommittal has its place I guess.

MSNBC “Lean Forward” … but not too far, leaning forwards or backwards, either way, can be a concern especially when dependent on the winds.

One America News Network … “The Wheels On The Bus.”

Breitbart … “Fuck You Democracy”

And others …

White House News (Propaganda-R-Us) and Travel Agency … “So Many Possibilities” … (that one can change on the fly though, depending on the legality or Karoline’s light ultra or meta ultra condescending mood).

But mine simply lays out for you to just expect things written of my everyday “sometimes funny, sometimes heartfelt, sometimes angry, sometimes funny again because, well, who don’t like funny, thoughts on getting older and sometimes stuff that’s just kinda shit. I pen and sing the occasional parody tune and other songs, sometimes I even get a little bit poetic or story-etic or something like that.”

Well, I have covered almost all of this ground recently, a funny one of a cat named Arthur and a one of just bits and pieces, a few things for Mom (so miss ya my dearest friend … and this one) a couple of new parody tunes and re-posts of older ones, and quite a few poems (poems) and short fictions (short fictions) too.

But the important thing of note here is that I’ve been able to come about all of these pieces while wearing the right pair of glasses, my “close” glasses.

//////////////////////////////////////////

Lilly the Car has been making some unwelcome sounds lately, like she’s carrying a bucket of steel stones under her belly, which, truthfully, she has probably been sounding alarm of for quite a while now, cries for help, I just haven’t heard them from listening to my damned heavy metal return to old school volume Deep Purple for open windows in nice weather. That rumble of Ritchie Blackmore and the boys might have even contributed to it.

But when I finally turned the volume down I realized, shit, there might be an issue here. My apologies Lilly, you and my mother could surely commiserate on Steve, still, after all these years, never listening to those pleas to please turn that crap down.

So, I inquired of a shop, which was a concern of mine since moving up this way. Could I find a place like Lou’s (from many years down in Beacon) that I could trust? Well Beck (my Sis if you didn’t already know) via my nephew and his gear head friends, recommended a place called Hari’s that I immediately liked it as I couldn’t find it under “Harry’s” with any search. Nope, I just liked it.

Then I asked Beck if she could follow me to drop Lilly off and then give me a ride the rest of the way to my day. Her commute mirrors mine, or can mirror mine in times like this as she works just around the corner.

And that was it, thanks Beck with a wave. But when I went inside to my desk, started the process of a day, I realized that things were a bit fuzzy.

First thought? Oh, son of a bitch, my eyes just got really bad, like seemingly overnight, then I looked at my phone, even worse, as that shit is small and now I was going to be checking on the going rate of pencils. I was suddenly Burgess Meredith in that classic Twilight Zone episode “Time Enough At Last” where he finally gets his wish for people to be gone and leave him alone in a huge library, with countless books to read for the rest of his days, only to then break his glasses.

Then? “Oh, son of a bitch twice!” I’m still wearing my “driving” glasses. There was relief for a moment, whew, I don’t have to make phone calls to the eye doc I also haven’t found yet for a checkup and distressing news.

But now I had to take my wave back and call Beck to ask for another favor, a much bigger one. Your idiot brother left his “close” glasses in Lilly and is instead wearing his “driving” glasses which aren’t worth a spit if, ya know, ya ain’t driving and could she circle back to the shop, Hari’s, and save me?

Though I can laugh about it now, stupid unintentional things that can follow me from the moment I wake to the moment I go back to sleep (though a lot stupid happens then too, just nonsensically and with more color) but it was debilitating. It gave me a greater appreciation for what I do still have, two pairs of glasses? That’s a non-starter of an imposition.

And it gave me a greater appreciation of a sister who surely just sighs often but still loves me anyway … for the most part … I hope.

Well it seems now that not only will I have to shell out a few bunch of dollars to fix that bucket of metal stones from under Lilly’s belly (you don’t want to know the estimate, let’s just say the number is equivalent to that of a ton of bricks) but I will also have to shell out some more for some backup glasses to leave in my always places … just in case.

Ok, now I have covered the “thoughts on getting older” (for recent things) part of my header as well, or more realistically “thoughts on BEING older”.

Son of a bitch, thrice.

(Love ya Beck … Sincerely, your old man brother)

Sheets (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry9 Comments on Sheets (poem)

New Quadrille poem prompt this week at dVerse Poets from Mish

The 44 word (title not included) dVerse Poets specialty that asks you to include one word.

The new Quadrille prompt word here?

“Tangle”

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Sheets

Turning over and over sheets get tangled

in creases

that cut my toes  

in wary dreams

always trying push them whole

disguising away monsters

smelling blood in their air scare stares up from around the foot of the bed

at a child’s grown feet

Dark Times (and an old parody song or three)

by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment on Dark Times (and an old parody song or three)

A new thing here as to our current dire times filled with obviousness and anger, anger mostly fueled by said obviousness and with some older Trump parody tunes that still work at the end for some “umph”

I mean, who don’t like some “umph” right?

No, NOT that … f’ing people … I hate y’all … rasser frasser mummble rasser mummble frasser …

/////

Spent a good portion of the weekend, after some poetry, most of it bad poetry (which is sometimes the best poetry) working on a post where I intended to include a few of my Trump parody tunes, older ones that still work for the moment (as I tinker some new things that no one is waiting on but will at least give me momentary peace when they come) amid the current fascist clusterfuck that we find ourselves in, but it just wasn’t working for me. It may still, with a bit more attention, but for right now it was a no go, I mean I have standards to keep unlike this current whose only standard is to lie to us even more vociferously on a daily basis than the first time around and that is quite an accomplishment, it seriously is, as that former lie-fest was award worthy shit, but now it’s almost something you could commend simply for the sheer audacity of it, I mean there isn’t even a care this time to couch anything that could even remotely be considered close to fact, no, this time there is an almost gleeful and obvious disregard for anything even resembling a truthful narrative, which the first administration at least tried to fake and cover (though there were a few adults around then so …)

No this is full bore, in your mug, this is what we got now deal with it state news propaganda with a pretty face, though hers gets less pretty by the day. You’re witnessing, in real time a face spouting falsehoods and dangerous lies getting more cartoonish and ugly by the moment. You can almost see the devil she’s decided to embrace peering out through what surely once were innocent and hopeful eyes. It is some pretty strong Kool-Aid being drunk there at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

But lets be clear about one thing. There is a lot of talk being bandied about, about who is or who is not a true American or true patriot depending on whether or not you support this despot in waiting. If you do, if you still support him even after what you have seen the only one being un-American is YOU. YOU are supporting the destruction of democracy, you know, that thing you grew up with and were taught of before you were now told that that wasn’t really quite right, and the building instead of exactly what our democracy was intended to escape and protect us from. You are supporting a budding, inhuman dictatorship, period. You have NO argument to make otherwise.

That’s it. You can hem and haw and “ummm, but”, you can justify and rationalize, you can cherry pick stances, you can split rhetorical hairs or find some semantic that will allow you to escape your support of a dictatorship and the loss of freedom and liberty that will come from it when project 2025 goes into full effect but you can’t escape it no matter how you might try to word around and distance yourself from it. And this has been said over and over and over, it’s not like I’m treading any new ground here.

YOU ARE COMPLICIT in all the wrongs that are still to come and there will be many and YOU WILL OWN THEM. YOU in that complicity. You own Stephen Miller, that creepy neo-nazi weasel who fashions himself in SS uniforms in the mirror at home. You own Heil Homan, that troll who lives under a bridge in a really dark Grimm Tale and looks like he wants to eat your children. You own Margie Q Greene and her gloried ignorance. You own JD Vance and his smooth, condescending faux intelligence “free speech” only if it’s our speech bullshit. You own Pete Hegseth and his misogynistic, white supremacy. You own Nancy Mace, shit, where to even start there. You own Karoline Leavitt and her daily barrage of smiling, smirking lies. You own RFK Jr and his anti-science, anti-medicine “I’m not a doctor but I play one on TV and in cabinet meetings”. You own the references to Hitler, referenced with pride. You own Kristi Noem, and no one wants that, tight cute Cosplay ICE outfits notwithstanding. You own Linda McMahon and her artificial intelligence steak sauce. You own Brendan “State News Only” Carr, you own the whole lot and all that have acquiesced and paid their protection money. That feeling you have right now that you are covered with your fealty, your allegiance, that joy you have in this moment, most probably just a one that has finally allowed you thumb your nose at the other side and feel superior, however childish and petty and juvenile that is? It will come for you too. You will find, eventually, that the liberties you thought you had earned with your oaths and obeisance will also be taken.

No, we need to stand and brace ourselves. Make noise. A lot of noise.

Oh, and Elon Musk is robbing you/us blind as we speak, F’n devil in stupid hats.

Anyway, how about a song or three, ya know, to lighten the mood.

////////////////////////////////////////

(originally posted April 20, 2020)

“Brand New Trump Key”

(to Melanie’s “brand New Key”)

Brand New Trump Key

I rode my motorcade to your city last night

To spin some lies and give you all such a fright

To harp on victim-like and rail conspiracies

I know you trust me know I’m just what you need

.

Well, I’ve got brand new world in mind here now

Take heart my unhinged screed

I’ll be proven right my ranting now

You just need to wait and see

I know what you need it’s a Donnie me

A fascist change of scene

.

Well, I’ve got a brand new world in mind here now

It just ain’t democracy

.

I ride my plan of year twenty of twenty five

I got my dee-scipes proving be worthy scribes

Of new world order in these United States

If you don’t subscribe you’ll surely be less than great

.

 
Oh yeah

Hah hah hah hah

Oh you will face my wrath

Hah hah hah hah

Oh yeah yeah yeah you’ll wish you hadn’t said that

.

I ask my people to stand up and be strong

Kiss my ring say they knew it all all along

That I was chosen by the man sittin’ way up high

To lead a fascist state while democracy dies

.

Well, I’ve got a brand new way to look at things

Won’t believe what I’ll bring

A brand new U.S.A. prosperity

‘long as you call me King

La la la la la la la la la la la

Well, I’ve got a brand new world in mind here now

It just ain’t democracy

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(originally posted June 16, 2019)

Tricking the Whole

(to The Beatles “Fixing A Hole”)

I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King

To keep their minds from wondering

What the truth knows

.

I’m filling the gaps marking all that I say

With prop-a-ganda being way

To sell truth now

.

And it’s really heady matter for elites I lie

For a fake press I lie

The haters cry

.

But see my dog base blinding there who loyally lap at my feet

Never finding truth crumbs on the floor

.

I’m painting bona fide in a red white and blue

My fingers make confusing swirls

Till you let go

Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh

(succumb you will in time)

Hey Hey Hey … Hey

.

And hey batter batter batter

Swing and miss my man, can’t hit this pitch you can’t

Not this big spin

.

I’m on the mound base is the crowd

They pay no mind they are fact free

See how they’re wowed by my huge back door curve

.

I never take time to study the things that were important yesterday

They don’t matter now

Oooh Oooh Oooh Ahh Ahh

Hey Hey

.

I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King

It gets my mind to wandering ’bout new royals Ohhhh

Who we could own owwwwnnn

.

I’m tricking the whole to new reign of a King

My mind is always floundering

In a dark hole … in a dark hole

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(originally posted May 7, 2022)

We Want You … To Be … We

(to Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me”

—

We want you to be we

We need you to be we

We’ll force so please just a-gree

Can’t have you livin’ feelin’ free

—

We want you to be we

Not right to live to your own de-gree

We know what’s best as only god does decree

—

We’ll shine up our partisan court, the one that’s been godly bought

Parade them over your free thought, make sure that you are sin free

—

We’re tired of spending time feelin’ persecuted

We need able dictate how your lives are executed  

It’s not fair to watch you all go about your happy dailies

While we’re forced to fret and live with all your evil failings

—

We want you to be we

See country the way that it should be

Revisioned right light history

One white and straight you’ll all see

—

And shine up on all old hurts, of unallowed to convert

Bring handmaids to life, ‘cause we know just what is right

—

Will we neglect children after grabbing their first real air

Of course cause hypocrisy we’ve got plenty in spare

We’ll only find our end until it is that you all stop tryin’

Pursuit of happiness is up to us to do the decidin’

—

Ohhh!

—

We’ll work in a morality play’s future dire warnin’

But that future won’t know it from this backwards day future dawnin’

—

Ohhh!

—

We want you to be we

We need you to be we

We’ll force so please just a-gree

And gay marriage is soon next up on the tee

—

We want you to be we

We need you to be we

We’ll force so please just a-gree

You’ll thank us soon you’ll all see …

Pantomime Madness in Spring (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry14 Comments on Pantomime Madness in Spring (poem)

A dVerse Poets prompt from Grace for exploring some “Magical Realism”, blending the ordinary with the extraordinary, placing magical or fantastical elements into a realistic, yet grounded, setting.

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Pantomime Madness in Spring

I curse and I sign

some nonsensical finger pantomime

of guessed import

asking myself to ask myself if I am losing my mind

(don’t tell your friends or family or enemies to then confirm

or yourself

for that matter

for any matter

at any time

to maybe infirm)

some swiped in air construct

that scatters symbols I saw maybe movie many once

or numerous too book look in one bulging volume

but thin for dunce

enough

to comprehend

found in dances and trances and drinks of history

family

in the field or wood or street

or square

all bursting, blurting, bustling, blustering

“you are crazy”

into dream’s fractured wholes

repeating

holes

with made up symboled twist musts

of fingers

to ward off gists only you seem to

get

well

but

not well enough

git

now

it’s cold

.

But you asked of me, of little sprites, of flower winged mites

and whisperers

whispering between trees

asked of all me’s to explain what went bump

what went thump

in the cold stark of winter

what bursted or blurted or bustled or blustered

what silenced loud to still

find

what was lost

just out of in under around the corner of your extra nesting eye

.

I did

I apologize

but will you will with me

bump and thump

and burst and blurt or bustle or bluster

and loud silence still

night

heal fractures that come to light

only then

soothe in day

through flowered walks, down path’s of plenty

scents of perfumed many

it is Spring again

after all

have you seen?

have you been?

to help me entertain what I don’t know and how lost lost lost and how it came

to be?

.

Of course of course

(quite pretty)

and of course

I am your Sprite after all

in Spring

and all things

To help explain

.

I curse and I sign

some nonsensical pantomime

but comforting

now

in

what I still hold mine

warmer in mind

She Said (Old T-Shirt Song) … (redux redux)

by Stephen J Frankenberry4 Comments on She Said (Old T-Shirt Song) … (redux redux)

It was a bit of a week in Frankenland, yes, simple radio commercial/podcast producer guys have those too, not that that is a thing you think about for comparison, but it was a bit of a week nonetheless.

All I wanted to do at the end of it was to just sit, as I have mentioned before, just sit. Though I realize there are many things that are better and healthier than just sitting, like anything other than just sitting, maybe line dancing on a Wednesday night with Kacey and the girls, or tennis with unfound friends at that country club back when, when they declined my application for what I don’t know (Hey! that was just once and Mrs Wagaman’s rose bushes grew back just fine the next year thank you! No, I didn’t know her husband was the chairman of the country club board) I did though get a kiss from THE most popular girl in school courtesy of a few rose bushes (I think, memory gets a bit hazy right around then) and in front of people! PEOPLE! (still hazy) and screw you, I didn’t play tennis anyway.

I wanted to only do just that, sit, damning the possible healthy of a walk but not damning the computer chair with a cat on a lap.

But one of the things I like to do in this just sitting is to put my headphones on, the one’s only held right ear together now with spit and duct tape (a bit scratchy and sticky and wet but workable) and listen to some of my stuff, my old parodies to see if they still stand, which of course they do, just dated, I mean he hasn’t really changed all that much other than being more empowered in his authoritarian dreams.

Anyway, I also did do some tunes then that weren’t the doom and gloom of an orange.

I figured at the time to branch out and get my head out of the morass (see what I almost did there?)

This was one of my first and and a long time favorite still (also another I did at the time, We Let Billy Drive The Car). Just something to an instrumental I had found and the remembering of old girlfriends.

It is something I have posted and re-posted before but why not again?

Hell, this shit is mine and so is this blog so …

//////////////////////////////////////////

She Said (Old T-shirt Song)

She said where have you been because ya seem lost

Feel like I’m living a fever dream but at what cost

Where you’re here one day then gone the next is this a test

I’m even wearing that old T-shirt that you liked the best

—

But is it yours or mine I’m not quite sure

Did I even one time even know this band I forget the tour

Found it on the floor newly washed I’m sure I think it’s yours

But you’re somewhere gone I think I must report you lost

—

We used to be on page in the same book

And you would give me looks to make me bend around with you

And send me stars as dots to connect of how you and I were them

Until we reached the moon no lookin’ back just … postcards to send 

—

She said we sillied with the best of them

Made others envy green when they couldn’t contend with us they bled

That green and not just in the month of March is what they jigged

You’d make us angry year round if we could only ever be mad at you …

—

But you’re missing now … she said

What’s happened to you … where is your head

But you’re missing now … she said

What place do you go … one that isn’t our stead

You’re missing now … she said

Is it a place where I can bring you back now from the dead

———-

I guess this T-Shirt’s mine now is what she says

I think I might just even have to wear it to bed

But not with thoughts of you if that’s somehow in your head

No I won’t be wearin’ it long … that’s what he said

—

No it’ll hit the floor running as he gives me looks   

To bend around with him in writing pages fresh book

And he sends me new stars on new trips to the moon

Where all is small, lost is not found

—

We’ll send postcards soon

I’m Ready (part one & two – poems)

by Stephen J Frankenberry6 Comments on I’m Ready (part one & two – poems)

Dora of Dreams from a Pilgrimage has a new prompt this week at dVerse Poets to write a dialogue poem so I thought to a second part of something recent, the first part of which I included.

I’m Ready (part one)

I steal steely crazed glances between the blinds

through goggle glasses with cool blinder flaps

and a crushed torn beat bent brim ballcap

in moonlight  

peeking from out a blanket …

with binoculars too

under chairs and baseball bats

and plungers and sticks I gathered during the day

for stand in the heels of sneakers  

that no one would miss

unless there was suddenly company and mom presented trays

or an incident in the bathroom

or the woods missed their kids

or if game time suddenly discovered night had been turned to day

just something THEY would do

… draped over pillows and nosing cats and snoring dogs and sci-fi books

and I waited

by flashlight for the louding star hymns only I could hear

.

I’m ready for you,

I thought,

This time

//////////////////////////////////////////

I’m Ready (part two)

I startled to it all still in place

the baseball bats and plungers and sticks  

standing in sneaker heels

or balanced ‘cross chair tops

now

still

in place

still

under the blanket for peering from out

that hadn’t been disturbed by Mom company needs or accidents or trees

or nosy still cats or possible waking dogs

startled by a light in the sky through blinds but with naked eye

my binoculars to my side

cool goggle blinder flap glasses almost crushed under my bent brim ball cap

by my pillow star head

a light that woke to ask

“Why I waited?”

“For you” I stated   

.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

I startled to Mom from a Mom’s soft nudge

“Time to bed my little sleepy head, did you have any dreaming luck just yet?”

“You didn’t see?!”

“Of course I did”

.

I startled alone after days upon days and more

after I had grown sore and out from under blanket looks

and my own lore

of forts

built of pillows and dreams and chairs and baseball bats

and plungers and sticks but

with stones

now

new blankets heavier

for tired forts to hide my head

under and pillows just for escape

instead

from these days upon days and more

.

But I still check through the blinds at night

when I can

when it feels right

with still kept nosing cats at hand

but

wishing my binoculars were somewhere in sight

and those cool goggle blinder flap glasses and my old cap

or Mom with a nudge and a love

for my sleepy, wishing, dreamy boy head

to tell me it was alright

that she saw

too

.

“You’re still waiting, we see”

“I always will be”

even more so

now