Philosophical Dairy Products, Aged Just Slightly

The phrase I lately like the most is "I don't have to...______, I get to ______."

Kind of like the gift is the present, but not nearly as cheesy.

Ripped from the Notebook - "Galloping Ghosts - Unghost Me"

I have long wanted to do a series called "Ripped from the Notebook" with writings well, ripped from my old notebooks. This one is kind of stunning with some neat imagery...

Galloping Ghosts - Unghost Me

it was a police officer standing on the cement, his

shadow drawing a think black line in the heat

For what on earth are these times, our men, yet to be born

born jumping through hoops from their mother's wombs

to the moment in which all men are free

the moment which

the blind horse jumps from the rafters

into the reflecting pool

three stories below

where women are waiting

with outstretched hands

waiting for a wetter god.

Standing there in pajamas, she left me

much sooner than she should have

as I feel the earth like a horse

heavy and crumpled

and unable to lift myself up

they had to harness me

and carry me over the city like a hot air balloon

- Hannah Frank circa 2014

Photo source

Too Many Witches

You know, I am not going to press this into your forehead like a stamp

the cool black letters going in and down as the stamp firmly 

finalizes

the identification of you

as you.

I will not spin you to the mirror, hair dresser style

to see the final version

after society has had its way with you

taking off your dread locks

and replacing them 

with nice gold curls.

No, I will let you breathe a bit

down by the sunflowers

and the tractor moon

radishes in hand as you verify

that the garden has the fruits

of all you've planted

and if you need to weed it

well then there you go

Mother Nature has no rules

and I'd hate to think you'd get out a ruler

to deny her the only inch 

she really has

of thick black dirt.

No, that black dirt could make a pretty stamp

but I won't do it

Too many witches have already been burned,

too many nooses filled with people who felt

the eyes of neighbors boring in on them like nails

this...imagined (and real?) ostracizing

based on the octagons

in the bottom of the well

We pull up human life

with our own ropes

these cords

they do not break

but crumble

in the hand

like a chunk of dirt

that is tough as a rock

then you break it down

and kick it on the sidewalk

because earth is just spinning around

and you need to go to the eye doctor

if you can't see life

from someone else's point of view.

The Tale of the Little Switch

10:54 ay em and all is well

eons of on and off have left the light switch up

it's daytime now

and she can rest.

Just one move from her 

and we can see better

at night.

Long ago she used to stay down

just sitting there

because ComEd shut off the power

and we used a flashlight

hanging

from the fan.

Tiny Watches

There is no good excuse for dragging your feet

even soldiers tired from soot and earth and flour

are not crying

These missiles won't mislead you

all you have to do is shoot

Would you wind up married, to the groom residing

inside my boot?

Please release the hounds

you weigh a hundred pounds

and you are not facing this circular mirror

this globe this sun this sphere

of life this earth who has seen

a million dreams come and go

the dinosaurs underwater know

that snow melts and the South Pole slows down

the ocean I am roaming on

while you are stoned

on the phone

talking to Time

unwinding the cord

it's all we can afford.

It's all we can aim towards.

As we spin around.

Smell of Earth

I remember underwater basket weaving being discussed as a joke

about 

the uselessness 

of college

its grey walls and quiet shores

a barrier to real life

YET

years later I want to learn

the way a dog wants to run, leap and bound

and smell the earth.

Blacktop Beauty

Blacktop beauty the singular synthesis that sees through me

eyes shine like rubies the mysteries miss me 

but still 

move me

Meeting

       I have a friend he once saw a person

f

  a 

     l 

         l

             ING down.

And he raced to help her, even though she was very large, and the cab was pulling away

from the curb, as she was tipping.

In a cacophony of arms, she fell on top of him, on his leg, which was on the curb

and it crushed his leg

oh, he spent literally years in and out of the hospital

trying to keep his foot.

I have another friend, with wild dark messy hair, who says, "let no good deed go unpunished."

They have never met.

Dragon Boy Scene 1

 This writing is in response to this contest: https://vocal.media/challenges/the-fantasy-prologue

Let's take a stab at it shall we? This is the first draft.

Dragon Boy

There weren't always dragons in the valley. The words of my father rang in my ears, "as we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we shall not falter..." but his voice trailed off. It had been such a long time since I was at church. The sunlight and the wooden pews. That was before the monsters came. They came in the windows, slowly, like tiny mice, and picked us all up and carried us away.

Currently, the mice were clinging to my clothes, about a hundred of them, their tiny teeth biting into my linen jacket and pants. The linen was made for me by the monks at the mission, they had worked for days. Before I headed out on my horse to get to the valley, they gave me about 80 mice in a canteen and told me to let them out, at just the time when I approached the valley.

The mice then went about climbing up on my clothes, each of them grabbing part with their teeth until they hung on me, like armor. That was the plan.

I stood there, next to the horse, with an armor of mice.

I thought of mice and lions. I thought about the story of the mouse getting the thorn out of the lion's paw, of some story when I was a kid. I thought of lions and lambs. 

I guided the horse slowly down the hill, the mice silent and clinging.

Fernando told me they were magic mice and that when we got to the bottom of the hill, they would run and create a rainbow barrier around me while I went to steal the Dragon's heart.

We did reach the bottom, and the mice ran and encircled me in a more stunning way than I could have ever imagined, a rainbow bubble shooting up from the ground and hanging around me, a forcefield of beauty. 

I came up to the sleeping dragon and tried to take his heart, but it was already taken. 

Color Coordination

"Have you ever seen a fan stop?"

"What?" I said, so frustrated I could spit. I stayed there listening, not because he was holding my arm, but because I had already been pulled into the magnet, the black hole of this situation. At this point I was caught in the moment, a chunk of debris in a puff of smoke, caught on camera.

The train flashed by outside, and the lights and the moving cars played shadows across his face. His icy blue eyes were wild.

I sighed.

"A fan, a fan," he said, letting go of my arm and waving his hand in quick circles. "Once it slows down to a stop, it kicks back, just a hair, the other way. That's what this is, it's just life, stopping, then kicking back just a little, it's physics somehow."

"Okay."

"Like life is all this momentum, just couldn't stop all at once, not just stop, there's still some motion left." He was looking out the window now, his voice being drowned out by the train a bit.

I set my wine down on the glass coffee table. I knew what he was talking about. I had seen the tiny hand prints that appeared on the glass moments after I cleaned it. I heard the doors slamming when there was no wind, the closet door open after I had just shut it. The towels rearranged in the bathroom, etc. etc. etc. At least the ghosts liked things color coordinated. 

Tiny Weight

A bird was on the wire, so alone

that he stood out against the brick

and the wire was drooping

from his weight

and the designs on the brick behind him

looked like ancient ruins

and suddenly he dive bombed

to the electric box on the side of an adjacent building

and by that time a low rider was coming down the alley

The Mission Christo church stood on the corner

with its neon and its call to hug the world

the other church nearby

is made of redder brick

and has taller towers

but I am not sure how

Jesus competes

with the neon.

I used to say I liked to save souls and time travel

I thought I was funny, maybe clever

and someone once told me that

something is bad for my soul

as if it was bad chocolate or something

and I am not so sure anyone else

can inform me

about my soul

At any rate, looking out over the lake

with its clear blue

I think I see religion for what it is

I think I see the gypsies dancing

around a fire

I think I burned my hand

If there was a small bird

living in my heart

like a sparrow

it would explain

why it feels like the wires

are pushing down

my arteries

and sinews

stretched underneath 

his tiny weight