My love affair with Old Glory started in sixth grade as a school crossing patrol boy.Leading first and second graders down the street single file. They have their marching orders.My flag and red helmet were as close as it gets to the front lines.Nothing could disturb this rush of control—except maybe a junior high miscreant looking for trouble.The perks were good. Getting out of class fifteen minutes early … Continue reading Flags by Frankie Laufer
Just like Apocalypse Now, heavy breath 1, 2, 3, controlled and focused.Descending steps sounding loud and crisp, only deep reflection floating on top.In the mind a painting appears, dark, mysterious.Black and Tan.Light too in the center.Don’t disturb this.A heavy white page is now turning.A story that reads front to back and back to front.No explanation or talking needed.Sudden revelations emerge but it’s too sudden and … Continue reading Apocalypse Now by Frankie Laufer
Luxuriating in the mire of sadness, and delusion.Their pens trudge along wearing the mask of defeat.This dance of ink stains begins and ends the same.It always has and always will.The scribbling is a straight line, full of unfilled this and that.A cat’s meow is more soothing.The great chasm exposed no new ideas or inspiration.Mother is nowhere to be found.Tears and whispers are the default subject.I’m … Continue reading The Poems They Write by Frankie Laufer
Only jazz and paint are welcome in the inner sanctum.Like warm fog, a luscious oozing Red beauty crawls out from her cocoon.Sprawled out on a white canvas like a pinup model.A sacred friend, full of passion and protection.The spoken word is neither admired nor condemned.Once engaged to Green, but now his compliments have worn thin.Yellow screams and must be muzzled, but gently without malice.Blue finds … Continue reading An Affair With Red by Frankie Laufer
A snake cut in two still has poison in the head.The body looks for accreditation.It will not go lightly into the night.Creating problems and undermining hope.It encourages excessive paper towel collection.Organizing day trip turns unorganized.Front door suddenly is stuck…or is it me?Car was left running all night.A friend shows up although none were called.“IT’S TIME,” he announces with intent but not malice.We drive to see … Continue reading Paper Towels by Frankie Laufer
The relentless march of ants, full of abundance.Black and Red but never Lime Green.Work is Worship.Wide awake they march to duty and the Queen.But don’t these six-legged bent antennae know that by law they are entitled to two fifteen-minute breaks?This is government work at its best, but not a time clock in sight.An owl wearing a dog collar watches this performance piece but mistakes it … Continue reading Enthusiastic Indifference by Frankie Laufer
These people were mostly men dressed in green corn stalks. Or was it seaweed? I’m not sure. They rode roller coaster conveyor belts higher and higher in search of food and a place to shelter. I’m afraid of heights. They temporarily adopted me and shared what appeared to be a secret code. Written in some unknown language on a piece of burlap. But like a … Continue reading A Day at the Mall or Gladiators’ Cocktail Hour by Frankie Laufer
Some things are still sacred.A giant green turtle passed by riding Duke’s longboard.A large wave at North Shore is standing on its hind legs and barking.Even Uncle Kaai won’t canoe here.This water feels right even to those wearing slippers.A shark swims close by but decides not to dine.There is after all happy hour at Moana Surfrider later today.Garlic shrimp at Giovanni’s draws a mostly orderly … Continue reading Extra Aloha Served Daily by Frankie Laufer
