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Saturday, December 22, 2012

Teardrop




Silent pear-shaped world of water;
Ocean of pain trapped in a drop
Sliding slow as frozen glaciers
Down the cheek to trickle stop

Saline bitter; sometimes sweet
Always salty as the sea
Where emotions mix and meet
From the hearts of you and me

Soothing balm to pain and fear
Sadness caught or rapture’s joy
All contained within the sphere
Encapsulated by this envoy

Messenger of pride and pain
From young child to dying old
They are drops of our heart rain
From the windows of our soul

Blood is life so oft is said
It goes unchallenged when we hear it
Clearer than the crimson red
Is the bearer of the spirit

Offering this wisdom now
For every heart and soul to hear
Sacred as the wedding vow
Is the shedding of a tear

Friday, December 21, 2012

San Antonio 1959




Neon flashes POOL and COLD BEER upon the glass

The green and red lights; a Christmas parody in the rain

Slick sidewalks reflect smoky headlights as they pass

Jukebox music drifts across the street in sad refrains


Hank Williams moans I’m so lonesome I could cry

Bob Wills and The Texas Playboys; Faded Love

Doors open revealing strains of fiddles to the night

Pale yellow moon swallowed by hungry clouds above


Drunk shoved to the street warned not to come back

Stands staggering slurring words about their mothers

Almost falls reaching to the sidewalk picking up his hat

Saturday night cowboy cut from the herd of his brothers


The motel room stinks of mold and stale cigarettes

Sheets smell of soap. The TV gets all the local channels

Suitcases lay unpacked on the extra queen size bed

Bullfight painting hangs from dingy hardwood panels


Midnight hour whiskey breath slips and drifts into a snore

Levis across Durango boots hang heavy with silver rodeo

Early morning will find the motel manager at the door

Tomorrow; another competition, welcome to San Antonio

Sunday, December 2, 2012

The Only Lonely Bluebird





The only lonely bluebird who never sang a song


To any lady new bird who might wander along


He sat upon his perch and watched through sun and stormy weather


And when it rained it hid the tears that trickled down his feathers





His parents both were bluebirds but somehow he knew


To love there must be two birds instead of one so blue


He watched the pairs around him atwitter in the spring


He could never tweet so sweet so why bother to sing?





The only lonely bluebird so hopeless and forlorn


Froze to death upon a limb one cold and frosty morn


He fell to earth and lay there having never made a sound


Except a tiny thud as his soft feathers hit the ground






About Me

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Boone, North Carolina, United States
North Carolina poet and musician Fabian G. Franklin invites you to join him on a poetic journey through the soul.