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



I was thrown up into this world
Or born into it
Or cast down 
Some time ago
When everything was grey
Although some things were black
Or white
And your skin colour
Could be wrong or right
Regardless of your heart
And actions
It made me nervous
That one could so easily
Cross the line 
And be punished
For who you were
So I locked myself away
In my room
My tomb
And listened to the radio
But mostly the music was grey too
Like Johnny Ray
And Doris Day
So I dreamed in Vistavision
And lived in the movies
Where the hero stood up to the mob
And did the right thing
Regardless of the cost 
Sometimes getting the girl
In the final reel
Sometimes not
For the hero was mostly a loner
A man who'd seen too much
And didn't want to see anymore
For he too 
Found that the world was grey
And was not above sacrificing his life
So that others may live
I continued on
Looking forward to Christmas
And my birthdays
When suddenly there was kindness
And laughter
And glimpses of the colours 
Of joy
And what the world could be
If only we tore the walls down
And embraced
And displayed our brokenness 
And vocalised our care for others
I was about eleven years of age
With my mum in the Myer department store
In the city
When I heard a sound that changed my life
It was unlike anything I'd ever heard
I stopped 
My mother asked me what was wrong 
I smiled because 
Everything seemed somehow right
I wandered away
Toward the music 
Leaving my mother to follow me
The singer's voice 
Was the most exciting and dynamic sound
I'd ever heard
He sounded like a caged animal
That had just been set free
As I had 
The record was "Twist And Shout"
By a group called the Beatles
And on the front cover of their EP
They looked to this kid from St. Kilda
To be from another planet
Their hair, their clothes, their boots, their sound 
It seemed the planet they came from was called Liverpool
I needed to know what the singer's name was
And was told by the girl behind the record counter
That he was John Lennon
And he played rhythm guitar and co-wrote moat of their songs 
John Lennon saved my life that day
And he has had my staunch loyalty ever since
I grew to read much about him
In fact, everything
And have since met many people who knew him
He was a complex, fascinating, contradictory and flawed man
All of which made him even more interesting 
And still does to this day
Scarred by the early loss of his father, then his mother
And then his best friend
He put up a guard to protect himself
From any more hurt 
His singing tone sometimes snarled to hide his pain
But we heard it in his soul
And in the words of his songs
And knew that behind the tough guy facade he was the kindest 
And most caring of all 
My friend Phil Sloan told me that John's spirit was so huge 
That you actually felt his presence enter a room 
Before you'd even seen him 
Another friend of John's who'd known me for some time
Told me that he would've liked me
I hope so
Because I have spent a long time
Loving him 
He was my liberator, my hero, my friend
He made me laugh, he made me cry, he made me angry, he made me care
And sometimes when I am lost or despairing
I think about how Johnny Rhythm would handle things 
And it gives me the inspiration to go on
To try and find a way
I guess it was destiny
That he left us after such a short time
But perhaps his spirit was too big for this world
As his beautiful boy Sean said to his mother when she was grieving,
"Don't worry, Daddy's bigger now...Now he's part of everything."

(c) Frank Howson 2017


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


Nobody tells you when it ends. Well, they shouldn’t have to. You can feel it. It’s that inner nagging feeling we have that you just need to cry, but because we’re grown-ups we suppress it and go on, never really letting the hurt go. In some of us it will brew and manifest itself in bitterness, and that will ensure that you never find love again. Others develop the disease of suspiciousness, always looking to compare the new person in your life with the one who did you wrong. That again will doom you to a life of solitude.

The magic that brings it to us, also takes it away. Why? Perhaps some relationships are only meant for a time. You come together to learn something from each other, and once you have, it’s time to move onto the next lesson. But sadly, most of us never learn, and that means a life sentence of bewilderment and confusion and blame.

Then we have the serial offenders, those so petrified to be alone they will let anyone in their life, even someone they don’t particularly like, and attempt to love them. Those people are not in love with a person, they are in love with a concept.

Rod McKuen once said, “I am not lonely, I’m just alone.” And perhaps deep in that is the answer. If you’re desperate to love someone, start with yourself. And by that I don’t mean become an ego-maniac. When you love someone, really love someone, you love them for who they are, warts and all. Well, to quote that wise Jewish man Jesus, “Physician, heal yourself.”

So, today, start accepting yourself for who you really are. With that comes a great inner peace for you’re no longer playing a role that you’ve been miscast in. Even Brando couldn’t do that and proved it. Being comfortable with yourself and being honest about who you are, is actually quite attractive to others.

We come into this life alone, and that’s how we leave it. It’s tough to accept but there you have it. We didn’t make the rules. If, along the way, you have found love in someone, or in many, you have been blessed and you need to reflect on that and give thanks, for some never find it at all.

Someone once told me, “When it comes your time to die, if you have at the end of this journey at least two people in that room that loved you so much they’d gladly give their own life so you could live, you’ve had a wonderful life.”

We hang onto things too long. We become collectors. Hoarders. Desperately holding onto things we no longer need, let alone look at. But it somehow gives us comfort to know we own them.

Some people set their own rules for love, as if there weren’t enough natural ones too. For instance age. I, in my time, have lost some wonderful soul mates because I was deemed to be too old or in some cases too young. Yet I don’t believe love is based on numbers. You both know it’s there, you feel it, until one of you denies its existence. I have loved younger women, I have loved older women. On reflection I wasn’t falling in love with the number of years, but rather, with the person. Isn’t that how it should be? Or are we too concerned about what our friends will say, or parents, etc., and so we send love away when it comes knocking. And then cry that it didn’t come back in a more acceptable package. I think one of the lines I’m proudest of is a song lyric I wrote for “Dear Friend” “…love sees no colour, love knows no age.” Yes, it’s true, real love is blind.

How do you know when love leaves a relationship? That’s easy. You laugh too loud. You talk too much, or don’t talk at all. You become exhausted from all the tap dancing to keep the show moving along. We forget that some shows only last one act. Most people don’t get a second act in their lives. And rarely a third. Although some us live in hope.

(c) Frank Howson 2014


You can climb a mountain
You can swim the Nile
You can cap your teeth
For a perfect smile
You can race a car
You can kick a goal
You can gain the world
And lose your soul
But you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you
No you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you

You can be a mystic
You can read a palm
You can catch a fish
Own a cattle farm
You can throw a punch
And become the champ
You can beat ’em all
Or lick a stamp
But you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you
No you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you

You can quote Shakespeare
To impress yourself
Control the markets
Increase your wealth
Buy a Lamborghini
In your favourite shade of blue
But you can’t turn back the tide
Or make a woman love you

You can build an empire
You can dig your grave
You can buy some pearls
For a live-in slave
You can see a shrink
You can shed a tear
You can play the fool
Again this year
But you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you
No you can’t
You can’t make a woman love you

(c) 2013 Frank Howson