THE PAINTER

Out of the darkness
And into light
We face a blank canvas
And call it a life
Our hand tracing lines
Adding colour here and there
Some of us choose to be bold
While some of us never dare

So how much am I bid
For this crazy life I've lived?
Do you find it too frivolous or too bleak?
Does it move you to tears?
Or does it look like wasted years?
This painting has cost me more than I dare speak

Lost in a city
Lost in a crowd
I don't speak till I get drunk
And then I get too loud
Your beautiful face
I have captured it by hand
But you denied me your heart
And cut me down where I stand

I have painted sorrow
And sometimes joy
But cocktails in a gallery
Won't bring back my boy
So I'll paint him from memory
From the time he called me dad
Some of us paint our mistakes
While some of us just go mad


(c) Frank Howson 2018

Painting by Frank Howson. 

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THE PEOPLE OF DARKNESS

The living are always under attack from the dead. As night follows day so do those of darkness target those of light and stalk them with words of hero worship when,  the truth is, the mere existence of those with a spark irritates them and they consciously or, in some cases, subconsciously,  work toward the extinguishment of that flame. Wilhelm Reich writes about this condition in detail in his book The Murder of Christ.

The people of darkness use many tools to bring down the envied. Negative rumours, stories that are unfounded in fact, and a whole range of politically acceptable words to discredit their target i.e., Narcissist (this applies to anyone who is successful in showbiz who uses social media to promote their latest ventures) because the fact that someone may actually be getting off their fat ass and doing something reminds the person of darkness how meaningless and unfocused their own life is; Nazi (it is acceptable in today’s politically correct world to call anyone with an opposing opinion this and get away with it. This is disgustingly outrageous and unfair to their target whose only crime may be to have an original thought, as well as, obviously, making light of what the real Nazis did). But let me not bring logic into this lest I be called names. Anti-Semitic is a good one too in some cases. I have even witnessed Jewish people being called anti-Semitic because they dared to have an opinion that didn’t sit comfortably with the party line. Such is the out of control world we live in where the militant wheel gets oiled first and the logical debate is not only not considered it is condemned. Here we have a perfect storm for the people of darkness to not only hide within, but thrive.

Bob Dylan has predicted for some time now that we have entered the end game. Anyone who has studied theology and the predictions of the old prophets would have to concur. In my opinion we are currently engaged in the final war between good and evil, darkness and light, and the shadow people are only going to get more and more hysterical as things don’t go their way. They are currently very confused as to why things aren’t going the way of the Polls. Could it be divine intervention?

It is difficult to untangle yourself from a person of darkness because they are cling ons – spiritual vampires sucking your energy. And the more you give them the more resentful they will become towards you. For even your kindness is an irritation. A reminder of what they are not. They will insult you by praising strangers and even abusing and opportunistic ex-partners above your efforts to help, give and support. This is to make you crazy and so confused you will cease to be able to function and end up zombie like staring out a window into the light that was once your source. Do not under any circumstances feed them. Let well enough alone. Danger and madness this way comes.

(C) Frank Howson 2017

HOME

The street was the same as I remembered it. And the birds swooped as if to herald my return. So it was true, I hadn’t dreamed it. For a moment I stood and took in the beautiful cacophony of noise that I’d never fully appreciated before in all its ugly glory. The sun came out to shine on cue and its warmth informed me that I had now entered a safety zone for lost boys.

How can you know a place so well and yet feel that you are seeing it for the first time? If this is a dream and I awaken now I will be angry all day. Maybe all days.

I continue moving on further into it until I reach the gate no one ever closes, and the narrow cement path  leading to the apartment block steps I once knew so well I could climb them in the dark, and under the influence of too much life. This time there seems to be a lesson learnt in each step and greater effort needed to conceal the weariness of the outsider.

Halfway up I enter the glow from the first storey window that conspires to shine God-like behind the statue of Buddha as if even the universe is welcoming my return.

More steps and more weary remembrances of lessons learned and I am at the front door, knocking in a drum pattern of whimsy and familiarity.

After an eternity of seconds the door is opened and I see your smiling face as I remembered it from a long ago carefree time. Bright, loving and kind. I can now die in my footsteps and not be lost to wander and wonder.

I enter and am surrounded by the comfort of the greatest books and music ever written. Each word and note a friend of mine. And I sit at the empty table. Alone no more. Everything and nothing has changed as I take my place amongst it.

You ask me how I am. But there are no words to convey the miracle of ordained destiny.

For in that sheltered moment, I am home.

 

(C) Frank Howson 2017

SECRET LIFE OF THE MARRIED WOMAN

once I smiled

and doors opened

now they are shut

and bolted

 

I see a husband and wife

in a sushi bar

he attempts to talk

small

but she ignores his

existence

as if trying to swallow

a load

of

past recriminations

too wise

or well schooled

to bring them up

now

here

perhaps

they no longer make sense

anyway

but this is all they have

now

this was their life

and cannot be

discounted

or forgotten

otherwise

it’s all been for

nothing

 

what would you like to order?

 

watching them

we know that strangers know

some things

no,

strangers probably know

more

about his wife

than he does

she has probably shared more

with

them

opened up

fully

everywhere

exposed

giggled

slap me

he won’t care

he never has before

the stranger can take her

anywhere he wants

she’s all his

it’s easy

she’s not really herself

and knows this is going

nowhere

other than back to her husband’s bed

and

the swallowing of more secret

recriminations

of a damned parade

of meaningless

words

that meant everything for a time

but

don’t hold up

to

examination

in the daylight

 

ah, but the memory of

those dancers

who took her once

to

somewhere

she

would hate it known

she

has

visited

 

he has gone

too

the husband

somewhere else

that other country

called lost in ambition

and

small print

of a thousand deals

that came unstuck

so did he

briefly

pulling himself together

he went on

like his father before him

never acknowledging

that he

died

over dinner one night

still

no one noticed

so he got away with it

 

once

when he was gone

on business

in paraguay

or somewhere

doing something

that would come to

nothing

she put on a dress

in his absence

a red one

to match her lips

a tight one

a low cut one

a short one

so they could see

thigh highs

heels

nothing more

oh, and the wedding ring

just to be naughty

she went out

alone

this night

to a downtown bar

and sat

alone

trying to look bored

drinking

while strangers looked at her

and smiled

even some of the women smiled

she blushed and looked

away

acting her part

knowing they like a challenge

seeing her wedding ring

they approach

hi there

she smiles

acting surprised

soon she’s surrounded by men

all horny

for the conquest of the married woman

asking where her husband was

oh, he’s away

that’s too bad they lie

looking at her breasts

sitting beside her

buying her drinks

joking

flirting

lying

stripping her with their eyes

dropping hints about how big they are

big house

big job

big car

big bank accounts

well-built

she looks up

interested

they’re not sure about what

she dances with some of them

they grind into her

letting her know

the truth

some are impressive

some just big talk

some put their hands on her married

ass

challenging her to object

she does not

and the whole room sees

the wife is burning

on a mission

to feel something before

dawn

her husband thinks she’s at home

watching tv

she smiles

what he doesn’t know would kill him

 

the chosen one

drives her home

to his place

she objects

hollow sounding

he takes control

just because she lets him

he’s too dumb to know that

he takes her

inside

and strips her

roughly

like a birthday gift

finally

seeing the other man’s wife

fully exposed

being offered up to him

to take anyway he wants it

both of them knowing he will

 

on the other hand

he was fully exposed to her

hours ago

she knew everything about him

and knows he’s too stupid

to

ever be a danger

to her real life

he does tricks

in an effort to surprise her

he takes off her high heel and

penetrates her with it

her back against the wall

her dress pulled up at the front

hoping the good wife

will enjoy being ravaged

in a way

her husband would never

dream

or dare

“would your husband like seeing this?” he smirks

“seeing how you respond?”

she represses her urge to laugh in his face

 

“beg” he begs her

 

how far will the respectable wife go

he wonders

she smiles

letting him know there are no limits

tonight

there is something in her smile

that makes him tremble

now

who’s in control?

he orders her to get upstairs

and into his bed

where she belongs

as she runs up the steps

he slaps her sexy ass

with all his might

until she squeals from the sting

 

he makes her lay

across his bed

on all fours

she does so

and hears him open the bedside table drawer

behind her

 

she closes her eyes

 

he will be big

 

he will make her cry

again

and again

 

but she is so pleased

that she chose him

he was just the darkness she needed

before

returning to the

light

of a reality

that is slowly killing her

 

she has defeated temptation

by

giving in to

it

 

she hopes her husband’s trip has gone well

 

(c) Frank Howson 2013