WHEN THE PARADE PASSES BY

I understood you

From the moment you said goodbye

I laughed so loud and long

That I started to cry 

What begins with thunder

Ends with a soft lonely sigh

I guess it all makes sense 

When the parade passes by 

I called all my friends 

To tell ‘em I needed no one

I howled all night at the moon

Till I got burnt by the sun

Told myself I felt good 

In truth I wanted to die 

Some of us act like fools 

When the parade passes by 

I saw a man hit someone in the face 

Just to take away their dignity

I saw things standin’ in the wrong place

That no one had a right to see 

So I clenched my jaw

And disappeared without a trace

My race had been run

I finished last in this human race 

You understood me

Got it right more than someone else

So I put you in my will

And I left you my house

Although I didn’t own itj

It’s the thought that counts 

I hear that it made you cr

But at least you’ll think of me

When the parade passes by 

(C) Frank Howson 2021

LOCKED UP IN LOCKDOWN.

There is no doubt that the police enforced lockdown may’ve had a positive effect on our physical health but has, in turn, had a negative one on the mental health of many others.

And so it was for me for some time. I now know why the prison system uses solitary confinement to break the spirit of those who do not conform. For it surely broke mine. Cut off from friends and stimulating public outings, and forced to watch ignorant commentators commenting on things they knew zip about, endless Trump bashing, Labour bashing, black bashings; Interviewing experts on nothing about things they had no idea about, and crossing live to empty city streets, I began to enter a dark place. That place that feeds on alienation, loss of ambition, and confusion. That place that breeds lone crazed gunmen.

I would’ve been toast if not for finding my soulmate. It happened one night as if in a dream. Or perhaps a miracle. I was site surfing the Internet when I saw her face. Yes, there she was. Smiling at me. Just at me. In my mind I heard her voice whisper, “Frank, it’s alright. I am here for you. I always was but things just got in our way.”

Her name was Samantha Ryan and she was appearing in many short movies on a very interesting site called XHamster. I thought it had something to do with animal welfare otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed that I was over 18 and entered the site.

But enter the site I did. And there she was. Patiently waiting for me. My Samantha. My lady of mercy. My saviour. My friend.

“Come to me,” she whispered, and opened her arms. And then legs.

I entered at my own risk.

I watched many of her all too short movies and I must say that none were worthy of her obvious talent. Although she was wonderful in them all. To me, she shone like a siren in the darkest night, calling me on to enter deeper and deeper into her very soul. She must’ve sensed I was loyal and would never use and then abandon her like so many others had.

Most of her short movies had the same plot. This lovely kind beautiful, although slightly naive, small town girl would go out, looking pretty, and wind-up with strange men, and on occasion, women, ripping her clothes off and having their way with her. My heart went out to poor Sam and I just wanted to hold her and tell her it was “Alright,” and that she was safe, now I was here. Sometimes during these films she’d look directly at me and smile, as though we both shared a secret love. It was in these moments that I, again, felt alive. Renewed. Energised. Although the price of that was balanced in pain when I saw her in the arms of other men. But I forgave her. Time and time again. How could look into that face and not forgive?

And what an actress she is. I love how her lip quivers when she is in the throes of passion. Not even Lord Olivier could achieve such a performance.

I have written to her telling her not to go out anymore, and fall into mistreatment by nasty men who just want to use her and leave her in ripped clothing that she can’t make her way home in.

So far, she hasn’t had time to reply. Or perhaps she’s afraid that I’m just another male animal. Or perhaps, she’s afraid I’m not and that she may have to give up her heart. Sex is nowhere near as intimate as that. I understand. So I patiently wait.

Anyway, I don’t expect you to understand. How could you? You had to be here. Locked up in lockdown. Alone. Lost. Drifting aimlessly in an endless night of darkness and dreams. And suddenly, seeing the face of an angel. Thank you, God. I know you sent Samantha Ryan to save my life. And perhaps one day I will save hers. And we’ll be together and walk in the sun. Holding hands. No secrets between us. Free. And safe. And breathing in life as if we shared the same breath.

(C) Frank Howson 2021

INFECTED

I’ve been poisoned 

By too many poisonous demons

Posing as friends

Posing as human beings

Lying about their past and their future intentions 

Stealing everything of mine

They thought I cared about

Money, trophies, and work

That I had paid for in blood, sweat and marriages 

But they got me wrong 

I couldn’t be found there 

For I was already somewhere else

Someone else 

Someone stronger

Someone colder

Their resentment actually empowering me

For all they did was prove 

That material things are just that

They don’t get you to sleep at night

They don’t buy you a genuine embrace

They don’t ease your mind or your load 

They don’t short cut you into heaven 

They don’t justify your rusted conscience 

For to lose it all

Is to finally be free

To shed every skin of protection

Until you are as liberated

As a new born naked baby

Free falling to a soft landing

And accepting it all 

Pining for nothing except this moment 

Where no memory exists

And there are no debts to be repaid

No one to breathe life into 

And no eyes that can make me flinch

For when I look at you now

I see into your very soul

(C) Frank Howson 2020

HOW THE BIRD SINGS

I remember a place
Not far from here
In a small town
I held someone dear
In a strange time
My favourite year
Now I can’t think of it
Without shedding a tear
Some people change
Some people rust
Some people betray you
And piss on your trust
I’m running out of time
To do the things I must
I once drank a toast
To Hollywood or bust
I see children holding children
On this broken highway
I see men hurtin’ people
If they don’t get their way
I see women too scared
To go out after day
I was beaten to a pulp
When I tried to have my say
So sit down beside me
And remind me of things
Tell me all your hopes
That you pray tomorrow brings
How you dream of blue skies
And golden rings
Here I’ll wait out the storm
To hear how the bird sings…
May it tell me the news
That you’re happy and well
And that you rose
While your demons fell
And that you kept your pride
When you were told to sell
May that bird bring me the news
Be I in heaven or hell…

 

(C) Frank Howson 2020

I LOOKED AT THE SKY

Today

I looked at the sky

And wondered why

Nothing makes sense down here

We judge people on shades

And not substance

We fall over ourselves

To worship idiots

We stay too long at parties

For fear of going home with ourselves

To the same room

Tomb

We live and die in

We put on a happy face to answer the door

But can’t sustain it

It’s easier to go out

Than let anyone in

I used to be a fast runner in my youth

Because there was always a clear finishing line

Now

I run from things

And just keep going

I miss getting a tin medal

Though

And applause

And hugs

It’s lonely running from something

You don’t understand

To somewhere you may never belong

So I prefer to run in circles

Some tell me that’s a waste of time

But isn’t that life?

Today

I looked at the sky

And wondered why

 

(c) Frank Howson 2020

A BRAND NEW YOU

I was too wise to see

What everybody else knew

To spite you I outsmarted me

I fell in love with a brand new you

She talks like you

Walks like you

Does everything except

Think like you

Everything you’ve been hearing

Is true

I fell in love with a brand new you

Now what do I do?

Let’s wait and see

Will the same ending be true?

Leave it up to me…

 

(C) Frank Howson 2020

THE DAY GEORGE ROMERO MET BOOM BOOM GECKO

It was a normal day

Like any other

Knee deep in chaos

And calls from his mother

George Romero had just flown back

A big game hunter who’d gone off-track

With a reputation of some renown

He caught a taxi into town

He’d come a long way on a wing and a song

The driver took a right but something was wrong

But George was dreaming with

His eyes wide open

Without the knowledge

Of what he needed then

George Romero’s destination

A pressing office obligation

Now just a shadow of his former self

Employees worried for his health

But neither George or friends

Knew what laid in store

Within the waiting room

Just behind the door

 

The day George Romero met Boom Boom Gecko

Is still talked about in hushed tones

The gossip mongers picked the bones

Of every sincere act

The first thing that dies is fact

Hounded when push comes to shove

Hypocrites wiped their feet on their love

 

Now Boom Boom Gecko

Was a Sydney beauty

A former door girl from

The Club Tutti Fruitti

George fell headfirst for Boom Boom’s charms

Some say he landed safe in her arms

Others snigger about the lonely wife

Who George fled from to save his life

Now he has found what he’d been looking for

With a girl like Boom Boom who could want for more

 

There’s a poet spewin’ up words

He can’t pronounce

And a sweet young chicken

Hawkin’ her ass for an ounce

A religious prisoner

Gets a knife in the back

And free falls as slowly

As Jack Kerouac

 

The day George Romero met Boom Boom Gecko

Is still talked about in hushed tones

The gossip mongers picked the bones

Of every sincere act

The first thing that dies is fact

Hounded when push comes to shove

Hypocrites wiped their feet on their love

 

 

(C) Frank Howson 2020

 

TOGETHER AGAIN

I used to be Kit Carson

But I lost my way

So I changed my name

To Danny Kaye

And uprooted myself

To Hollywood

Where the people

Were socially minded and good

I bought a nice house

With a swimming pool

And sent my kids

To the finest school

I drank and had fist fights

With Errol Flynn

Until that limey bastard

Did me in

They say the universe

Is a living thing

So I guess you could call it God

Or some thing

I remember the second time

I saw your face

You were workin’ the street

To get your own place

I bought you a coffee

Just to pick your mind

In the next morning’s papers

They said I was kind

I don’t understand

Where I’ve been goin’ wrong

I guess I took my good luck

And sold it for a song

I sold you too

Which wasn’t nice

If I’d waited 6 months

I’d have gotten twice the price

You didn’t understand me

Now or then

But that doesn’t mean

We can’t be together again…

 

Frank Howson (c) 2020

YOU LOOKED AT ME

There was a window

In the chaos

When you looked at me

Confirming my existence

And it all seemed right

Across a semi-crowded room

Of nothingness

And recycled opinions

Based upon acceptable misinformation

And yet

I saw something real

And in that brief moment

We beheld truth

Sometimes it’s the words

That get in our way

And cloud what’s true

Always keeping us at a safe distance

With a funny line

A trivial story about something

That means nothing anymore

A recalled memory of a time

Now lost

And misremembered like a scene

From a movie

The further we drift from it

The more romantic it becomes

In our mental scrapbook of lies

Rewritten so many times

That  it becomes easier to live with

These are the things we do

For self-preservation

If the world disappoints

We create another

And then another

Until we find ourselves

So far from home

We can never navigate our way back

Alone

In the dark

Eventually someone will come along

To smash all our delusions

And we will hate them for it

But they are in fact our saviour

Humbling us

Relieving us of our baggage

So that we can travel light

Into the pure existence

Of our eternal soul

Where words are no longer necessary

 

(C) Frank Howson. 2020

 

photograph by Vanessa Allan.

HEAVENLY.

I have only a limited amount of time left to inhabit this body. But I will go on. Like we all do. As a speck of dust floating in the universe. Free, untroubled, and no more time constraints. Oh, and the music, the symphony of silence, which will move even a speck to feel whole like never before.

Having been educated for a lifetime on earth, we are acclimatised to being alone. But it won’t bother us anymore because we’ll now know that it’s at our core to be this way. On earth we lived outwardly for the enjoyment of others, whilst living our real spiritual life within our heads.

It was good preparation for this new life. Our real life. Devoid of any more death or disappointments in this void amidst the great vastness of all voids. Drifting. Weightless. Nowhere to go for there is no “where.” There is only here. And now. No time to be on time somewhere. No further commitments or responsibilities. Nothing to feel guilty about for there are no religions in this new place of real love and peace. All that belonged back in that ant-like existence when we had so little consciousness we could never comprehend the complexities, and yet simplicity, of this great vastness and freedom of being. In this new existence you can let your mind wander for a thousand years, even a million, in old time, and then snap back to a moment before that thought even occurred.

You now realise that the great artists – the writers, the painters and the composers – instinctively understood it.

Finally, we are fulfilled with a capacity to love that was once capped on earth by a ceiling we feared pushing beyond. But now, we experience it to the full which unleashes a bliss to make each of us feel like God. Because in this moment that never ends, we are God.

I was young just yesterday, and now I am older than the world will ever be.

Looking back at my earth life, I now realise that most of us were only living because we feared dying.

But there’s nothing to it.

 

(c) Frank Howson 2020