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Patrick
Frank
I am a published poet-songwriter and essayist from Middletown, Connecticut, USA. I have served as a
counselor and advocate for the poor and disabled in New England, the South, and on the Zuni
Indian reservation in New Mexico. I published a periodical of Eastern forms of poetry, and aesthetic philosophy, Point Judith
Light, during the 1990s.
Drifting Away
I am leaving, peeling my self and my creation
away trying to explain to the stragglers why we will
never see each other again. There are a few words
spoken, at the end, but faces are shrouded in mist,
and everyone simply drifts away
In waking, my friends of the past I cannot forget,
like me and my best friend from high school. I
remember how we sat in a tree, talking about girls
Years later, in my last memory of Jim, he was sleeping
in his car behind a tavern, at dawn. There was
something wrong he could not share with me. We had
moved away from each other and forgotten how to
confide
So we both drifted away
Liberation
At two AM I cannot sleep. In the dark, the rumble
never ceases: an invisible train. Yesterday, you led
me down stairs, to a place concealed by the
administration, where gifts for children are stacked
almost to the ceiling
I spoke in my true voice because you smiled at
me. We conversed in the language of zigzag song, but
you did not question, or look at me strangely. And you
had no fear of being alone or close to me in the
basement
Now
everything in the universe is transformed. Now we
can throw a party for true friends. We can have a
great party, in the end.
Everybody can take off their shoes
Show Me Your Eyes
show me your eyes
the truth, and your spirit
if you are blind
touch me with your hand
convey strong passion
so I can believe in you
and humanity again
I feel
darkness advancing
Over the planet
ponder with me
our fate
the end of our beginning
the beginning of life's end
copyright © Patrick Frank
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