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Tuesday, July 21, 2020


Once children grew steady and strong
Nourished by roots of family history
growing in the orchard where they belonged
when the sweet fruit of life held mystery

The came the contagion of complacency
And the age of the wandering child
Torn loose from the roots of ancestry
No longer cultured, but growing wild

They had no roots to tie them down
But drifted away like dandelion seeds;
Scattered upon the desert ground,
Instead of flowers, thistles and weeds

Without the water of parental care
the fruit of life made them bitter
taught by a world with no love there
many a seedling died and withered

Others became like nomad branches;
life’s fruit poisoned by infectious deeds,
like nine lived cats with no more chances,
rolling in the dust like tumbleweeds

Oh, generation of tumbleweeds,
seeking revenge for continual hurt
feeling but never knowing your needs
you cannot but wallow in the dirt

You shouldn’t have left your orchard home
nor destroyed the roots by burning your past
the nourishment of your flesh and bone
is blown by whims that do not last

Missing and lost are the tender shoots
That grew in care of The Gardener’s love
But I will feed my orchard’s roots
With grace and peace from God above

Sunday, June 14, 2020


There are wounds in life that leave us weak
and every hurt takes time to heal
We, likewise, may inflict, through words we speak
forgetting the pain words made us feel

A scar can be carried within the heart
or worn like a tattoo, right on the skin
the latter, in ink, should make us think
to avoid those same old hurts again

Scars are unique, both tender and tough
Stretched taut where the healing begins
a testimony in flesh that is never enough
to remind the soul of its former sins

We all make mistakes, but not everyone learns
from things that brought such pain
an emotional neuropathy where cuts and burns
have left their marks, is all they gain

Each scar takes a little more feeling
until at last, there is nothing to feel
picking at scabs that should be healing
we draw our own blood in pictures too real

Memories, heartaches, lost love affairs;
flames extinguished and greatly missed
we clean those scars with the greatest care
and add those wounds to our list

But we all have scars, yes, everyone
and a closet full of hidden bones
some worn like medals from battles won,
others, watered with tears, when we are alone

Some carry their scars, complete, to their graves;
some carry them out to local bars
seeking justice for things that couldn't be saved
but make no mistake, we all have scars

Friday, June 12, 2020

Escape from Oz

The lion had no courage
The scarecrow had no brain
The tin man did not have a heart
And was rusted by the rain

But Dorothy; being tolerant
of qualities lacking in others;
and meeting them on the yellow brick road
took them as her brothers

And with frightened, witless companions
sought out her salvation
She even hoped the heartless
might rise above his station

The Wizard, steeped in subterfuge
Was ignorant of their cause
His title was quite misleading
As the wise, all knowing, Oz

The travelers suffered delirium
although they tried their best
They nearly succumbed to opium
of the wicked witch of the west

Beware the flying monkey hoards
And those who know too much
Beware the ulterior motives;
the revenge and applause of such

But look for Glenda The Good
for wherever you may roam,
to ruby slippers of childhood
there's just no place like home

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

So Very Berry True

The blackberry in his thorny crown
of verdant leaf and stem
saw the blueberry looking down
and condescended to him

"You are not as free as I
for I grow where I will."
But once prepared into a pie
he sat on the window sill

The poor blueberry, looking up
spoke gently to the pie,
"Now with your brothers from the cup
you are the same as I.

We shared the same blind, blessed ambition
we meet with a similar fate
with flour and sugar from the kitchen
We are both destined for the plate."

The blackberry, no answer, could he make
to the blueberry, still uncooked
for once he had been stewed and baked
things had a different look

It matters not how tall we grow
or what briers are our defense
for in the end, we must surely know
there isn't any difference!

Sunday, June 7, 2020

White Dwarf

Lithium comes from exploding stars
And it's used to treat bi-polar depression
or anxiety over what we are
preferred above a therapy session

When light went out of those distant suns
we can't imagine their dismay
But now it's used to treat the ones
who would otherwise, always, be this way

Perhaps one day we'll all white dwarf
down to all that's left inside
burning at the pit of our sweltering core
and astronomers will say we've died

Just a bursting nebula burning
out there, in inner, outer space
Still the mind will go on turning,
searching a safe and happy place

And, at last, when all seems over
and all stargazers have given up hope
finally, we will supernova
and provide the metal for others to cope

Saturday, June 6, 2020

Common Valor

In some men there is a valor
born of common toil
It lives in hearts of factory workers
and those who till the soil

Its words are plainly spoken
with heirlooms of conviction
from principled, brave characters
in works of truth and fiction

Unbound from chains of morality
where religious books are shelved
but firm as the handshake of God
It is a law unto itself

It bestows unto each, its merit
Yet never seeks the heroic path
and to think it could be bought or sold
would bring a hearty laugh

For it requires a lifetime of practice
in the art of self-denial
and to put a price upon men's lives
is a thing both offensive and vile

There is no honor among thieves
to win or even nourish
That exists within these common men
fostered and guarded with courage

Do not misunderstand or think
It had its birth in pride
More likely it was born in a stable
or from somewhere deep inside

Where the only thing a soul can offer
to a friend is the work of his hands
and time that can't be proffered
or taken back from any man

In some men we find this valor
as open and wide as the sea
with honest words and actions
in a world of baited treachery

Friday, May 15, 2020

All The Tiny Fishes

All the tiny fishes, swimming in the sea
All bright and winsome creatures on the coral reefs
Oyster and abalone make homes on ocean floors
With the pearls and mother of pearl ladies all adore

The urchins of the ocean are little porcupines
Protected by the notion of their sharp and sticky spines
But they do well to keep from being snatched by a sea otter
And served as appetizers, there’s danger in the water

Manta ray and octopus roam the murky deep
Electric eels and cuttlefish searching things to eat
The tiny fishes dart away to see a shark appear
Dark shapes swimming overhead bring the fishes fear

You tiny little fishes; you dazzling scaly wonders
Beautiful as fashion divas dressed in silks and colors
To visit reefs and find you there in zebra stripes and blue
Is a most breathtaking sight; I must give that to you

Little starfish march the sand; seahorses gallop by
Dolphins laugh that beasts of land swim in their midst like I
To all you tiny fishes, what wondrous joy you bring
No wonder that the nymphs and mermaids in the ocean sing

Cleaning Day

If a man had room enough to move
around inside his mind
And clear out most of the junk
imagine what he could find;

Long lost treasures from childhood
like innocence, love and joy
Might be better understood...
than by that long lost little boy

He'd find proverbs from his mother
and wisdom from his dad
that somehow he'd forgotten
and the thought would make him sad

But the finding would be glorious
as he cleared a path to see
that kingdoms stood before him
and the door to liberty!

About Me

My photo
Poet and musician Fabian G. Franklin invites you to join him on a poetic journey through the soul and nature.