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Feb 2022 · 146
Tempest
Keith Frantz Feb 2022
I wonder
if she hears me
I wonder if
she hears me
when I whisper
to the moon…
When I whisper,
I love you
Each night…

I had
No choice
but to love her
To waste
my romantic pith
on her
To flow
under her
shimmering waters
in our moonlight

Sad souls
For whom
no one waits
No one waits
for me
Someone?

Not too soon
From now
Another shall arrive
And inspire
With song
And verse
A tempest
of truth

February 8th, 2022
Feb 2022 · 118
Rainstorm Butterfly
Keith Frantz Feb 2022
Flâneurs abound
The tragedy
of low expectations
Was described
To me
As the most uptight surfer
you ever met
Greeting me
like age hurdles
She was a black hole
of logic
and responsibility
My life
with no mirrors...
Exes
had limited vision
Too stubborn
and prideful
to admit
their freefalls
of poor judgement
My freefall
*** sum me da
Heretics
and Town Cryers
in the market square
Mephisto's embrace
of Lidocaine and Cortisone
I can no longer
skydance to impress
A scoundrel, my ***** culprit
remains reality-resistant
Like *****
on the Polar Bear rug
Incoherent verses of
"Dog and Cat
God and Oil
Signet and Spice
Partners and Paramours"
The incidental joy of life
Randomly convenient distance
from our Sun
Burning her kelvin heat
to charm our World
Venerated
Dreaming in fireworks
I write her in great detail,
She answers me
with tempered dictation…
Sun distance Earth
Enough
to burst
with anemones
as blue as Barbercide
This distance
Struggling
like a butterfly
in a rainstorm

February 1, 2022
May 2021 · 157
Moksha
Keith Frantz May 2021
Mother
My loving arms
reach
across the World

Mother of Gods
Mother of All
The World weeps
as you suffer

Hold tight
To Love
and Hope
Grace is falling

More bodies
Than wood
Save Suttee
Of all Castes

Pyre plumes
Plead Param
Om Shanti
Sadgati for each

Ganesha and Vishnu
Weep openly
From grievous
Himalayan Skies

Tragedy's tears
Dredge timeless
Life and death
Forever Bharata

Your suffering
Is the suffering
Of the great globe
Moksha!

Suffering
shall deliver
You
Mother India
गाड विलिंग

May 2, 2021
Mar 2021 · 134
Divine Petals
Keith Frantz Mar 2021
I glare intensely 
into the pores 
of the granite walls 
inside my eyelids

Primitive pain
Suffering universal
even in the shade of the 
Bodhi Tree…

All The Wailers
are gone now
Siddhartha recovered Joy
in a broken world

Grace delivered
Facing Mara
face Yourself 
Demon of Temptation

Am I
worthy of Wisdom?
Abused and exploited 
Earth is Redemption 

Lotus Rain
upon Your Awakening
Cosmic and Karmedic balance
Creates The Middle Way

Forge Truth
Through the Holy Cities
No Sacrifice 
No Salvation

Eyes wide now
Dancing with Dream Fish
Marrying Brahmin Priests 
To Outcast Maidens

Nobility emerges
Fledgling monks
Arrive and suffer
Indoctrination 

Caribbean chapel chants
Liberate poets and pestles
Wick lit Silence
My mind is freed

Nature of self
Lends Compassion
Connected
All things

My Island
of Happiness 
Impossible 
in an Ocean of Misery

Teach me
Wander with me
Consciousness 
And beyond

Hear my rainy fire
And I will share 
Your open mind
with the Weary World

Radiant Kindness
will be our malignant Miracles 
Unknown Universe 
Our canvas

Generations of Ancestors 
Create our shared moment
Together
You and I

Withered robes
drag through time
clinging and trailing
Until we are done

Closed eyes
of our descendants 
Weep for us
in ghost memories 

Awakened 
As we are
As it is
Enlightened 

Strive on
Untiringly
Be your own light
and Smile at the Unknown

Divine Pedals fall 
On still body
Out of reverence 
Nirvana

March 5, 2021
Feb 2021 · 124
Crumbs
Keith Frantz Feb 2021
Stale light
under my door
reveals nothing
upon my bare floor
I crave the crumbs
you left before
I am nothing now
If not your *****
Dec 2020 · 114
CRIMSON CARPET
Keith Frantz Dec 2020
Onward
Damaged
Trudging through
Stale gleam
shade
cycled layers
of goldenrod
and crimson carpet
Lain atop
Damp asphalt 
and reaching blades
of wild pandemic weeds

Leaves fallen
Like letters 
pouring
upon my page
Pale writer
Alone
hardened and temperate
I forge forward
Against the 
Season's Fall

Frost carves
My Heart 
among
stacked spirits
like lifeless leaves
as death grips
Our global
Holiday folly
abandoned by
Unnecessary Loss
In Winter's fading light

Dreams and plans 
maintain
holding patterns
Now
as Arctic glare
shifts
Souls suffer 
Hardship and peril 
Just survive
Or just let go

Longest nights
taunt us
breaching
horrific tallies
daily
Soon
Solstice brings 
The turning 
of the Season
welcome New Light
And change

Long step Autumn
We march
Into the next
Stretching shadows
teach
And grow
We hope
with clear
and weary eyes
Trudging across 
The fallen
Across the 
Crimson Carpet
of Time
as Earthly dreams
and endless voices
are forever silenced

December 11, 2020
Sep 2020 · 126
Lost Fairness
Keith Frantz Sep 2020
Resentful and bitter
Letters swirl
Chattering
Inside my head

Tell you
Don't tell you
Bickering 
There too

Pain slight
Lost fairness
You
Won't hear

Asked me
Caught me
Loved me
Loved you

Vanished
In wrongness
Used
Was I

Invited too
Then
Never
Uninvited

I hope
You told
Nice stories
About me

And danced
Alone
While our
Song played
Sep 2020 · 86
Dim Deeper No More
Keith Frantz Sep 2020
Tonight, I rally around my teary tribe as they near the closest ledge.
I pause to dream and remember all the right and good which was done.

I seize my own tears as I buckle and try to convince myself and all who will listen this moment in history will be our final tipping point of revelation.
Of action.

We will remember the sacrifice and the light.
We will fight for what is fair and just.
We will smile and know she has done us well.
And we will make her proud.

O yea! the conviction and the diligence!
The paths of principled virtue, honor, and justness!

The sky is most definitely falling and the court shall soon be stacked.
Alas! Shout no dismay!

Her Crown will glimmer with the tears of a nation.
We will lay you down in the highest honor of our hearts and the strongest ambitions in our actions.

Sleep your deepest rest
O last Queen of Democracy.
You did us well.
We will hold your torch.
And dim deeper no more.

September 18, 2020
R.I.P. RBG
Aug 2020 · 134
Different Tears
Keith Frantz Aug 2020
I cried again last night.
Not the same sweet tears I shed only one entrenching week ago.
Not the tears of hope and promise.
Not the tears of possibility.
Of love and compassion.

I cried the desperate tears of traumatic pain and rejected disbelief.
Tears of frustration and incredulity.
Emoting out loud my fears as I witnessed, once again, our collective failure to behave in a manner of grace.
In a manner of love.

I cried out as I watched those employed to protect us ****** yet another one of us.
Us.
Yes.
He was us.
All of us.
With the skin torn from our bodies.
With bullets forever assassinating our spirit of unity.
We are the same.
I cry as I say their names.
I cried at the endless list of names.
I cry because civil rights are an illusion.
A distant and deadly idea.

I watched as beleaguered millionaires left their respective fields of play in acts of solidarity during a season already plagued with the short, harsh spotlight of what is truly important.
I cried at the quick realization these athletes were becoming true leaders, heroic leaders, by illuminating the crimes for those too blind to see.

I cry as I watch and listen to an unpatriotic and hypocritical minority attempt to justify a monster.
Such reckless noise has become actions of atrocity and killers are being enabled by the cacophony of a cult.
I cried as I heard the rants of lunatics with microphones.

I cried as a brainwashed boy was indoctrinated into a malevolent belief system so deeply to travel to another town with an automatic weapon to hunt and successfully ****** peaceful protesters.
I cried as I listened to the voices praising him.

I cried because the darkest nature of mankind is now fostered.
Nurtured and coddled.
Our sins are amassed in front of truth and righteousness.
Every day.
And I cried for the people who know right from wrong.
I cried for both those who observe this simple belief and those who don't.
But mostly I cried for those who cannot cry ever again.

August 27, 2020
The Year of Our Pandemics
Aug 2020 · 80
Confessions True
Keith Frantz Aug 2020
Confessions true
Decade's delay
Thoughts of you
In recent day
Indulging voodoo
Uttered foreplay

I invaded your dreams
Such earlier night
Thus suitable schemes
Demand me try write
Past permissive themes
Fearless visions alight

Not fifteen stanzas yea less not more
Render to cause you blush coy enough
Our mislaid chances upon the shore
Remember the tavern on her bluff
The hardened carving above her door
A friendly pour for this life so tough

Crushing the fantasy
With kisses and blushes
I offer my rhapsody
Rest words of lost touches
Longing cross our delphic sea
Grant berth where love rushes

Make you blush through
By fortune by will as I write
This poem for you
Pray set true flirtatious delight
Invite me to
Invade your dreams once more tonight
Aug 2020 · 176
I Cried Tonight
Keith Frantz Aug 2020
I cried tonight.
I cried as I listened to two believers tell me my dreams are still possible.
Tell us all our dreams are still possible.

I cried as they told me what I already knew.
How possibility to grant gravity to our progress as a people was unjustly ripped from us almost four years ago.
Ripped from me.
I cried four years ago as well.
Different tears.
Very different.

I cried as I felt my chest fill once again with a breath I haven't drawn in a long time.
A breath of freedom.
A breath of hope.
My lungs expanded as tears welled and my throat caught.

I cried as I heard words of processed thought and genuine care.
Ideas of resurging justice and critical vision.
I cried as I watched inspired people inspire me.
People of service.
True service.
Serving me, serving us.

I cried cheer and joy.
Of illumination.
Enlightenment.
I cried as my ears became filled with complete and coherent sentences.
Sentences of reason.
Reason and truth.

I cried for the tortured eagle in all of us.
Carelessly beaten.
Recklessly injured.
But surviving and resilient.
I heard that bird's cry.
Knowing how high it can fly once again.
Higher.

I cried with tears of promise.
Promise of the next.
Promise of the after.
Soon.
I cried happy tears hoping for an end to our nightmare.

And I slept like a baby.
A baby eagle...
DNC
Jul 2020 · 269
Summer Alliteration
Keith Frantz Jul 2020
Summer Alliteration

She brought sunrise stars
and sandy slippers
Scented air
of smiles and ***

Her sundress breeze
blooming to reveal
brilliant and beat tattoos
hidden bikini bliss

Tan tone lovely
lotioned touch
Random roadtrips round
Water and the way

Beautiful bright beaches
dazzle our days
Bright moon battles
shimmering sparkle shores

Holding hands
on the path and at the pool
Party on the patio
backyard barbeque beckons

Children chasing
Lightning bugs and lemonade
Playing in the park
parents on the porch

Blessed Solstice storms
stolen September morns
baseball broadcasts while
sparrow and starlings serenade

Carnivals and cotton candy
piled pink
sweet sticky sugar
sunsets shine

Halter-top halos
and bike ride breakfasts
Fuel firework fun
and pinwheel popcorn parades

Late and lazy afternoons
in white linen love
She brought Summer with her
And she shared it with me
Jun 2020 · 94
Inside
Keith Frantz Jun 2020
Inside

What warmth!
Your song brings
O joyous 
heavenly color 
and cosmic delight!
Your vision 
provokes, 
provides
With  
without
aching reach,
visceral touch

Sweet 
petal promise 
declares, 
Insisists!
Inside 
compels me 
draws me 
tasks me
Transverse 
Celestial distance

Transcendent glory
inside
Your call 
Boundless
and absolute 
unequalled 
Surrender 
my self
all
I must!

Life born itself 
the eternal chain 
of being
Sacred Creation,
Totality 
Nothing,
Dear nothing
comes close 
Life giving
Flower

Imperfect perfection
You
The greatest theme 
of poetry 
of life
Of Love
Beauty
Essence
Nirvana
The Cat and the Fiddle...

Unguarded metaphors
swirl amidst
Your wrapped
dewy bloom
Rise Aurora!
Sweet Nectar
Enraptured me!
Your heat
and power
Rule the World

Divine gift
to the gods
I am born
Yours
To satisfy
and tend
Paradise
Safe and sure
Loved and true
Inside
All you provide
Take me
Inside
Jun 2020 · 312
LIAR
Keith Frantz Jun 2020
I lie. 
I lie about lying. 
I lie about other liars lying. 
I lie to entertain 
and I lie to avoid trouble.
I lie about the stupidest things.
And I lie to the stupidest people.
I don't ever lie to hurt anyone.
In fact, I often lie just to make someone feel better.

I lie to save face.
And I lie because I'm embarrassed. 
I also lie because I'm ashamed.
I lie so people will like me.
And I lie to make my life easier.
Sometimes, I lie even when the lie will make my life harder.
I lie to make people laugh.
I lie so others will forget about things making them sad.
I lie so you'll stop crying.

I lie to boost my resume 
and to get free stuff.
I lie to make myself seem smarter and more likeable. 
I lie to babies and animals.
I lie to the dog 
to make it sit or stay.
And I lie to the cat 
for not coming when it's called.
I lie to schoolchildren 
about the speed of the slide.
And I lie to them 
when they fly too high 
on the swings.

I lie to my boss, 
my girlfriend, 
my Uber driver. 
I lie on my taxes.
I lie in the information I provide when I make donations 
to public radio.
I lie on my Tinder profile, 
I lie requesting a late checkout, 
and I lie when I'm just 
"asking for a friend."
I lie about my weight. 
And my age and my height.
I lie about the most ridiculous ****.
I lie to impress,
to involve, 
to engage.

I lie to my mom. 
And I lied to my dad. 
Siblings and cousins,
Aunties and uncles.
And to every other family member.
I lied to all my grandparents.
Rest their souls.
I lie to besties and buddies,
strangers and the displaced. 
I lie to the *** 
outside the store,
and I lie to every last bartender
as they give me house pour.

I lie about facts and figures,
numbers and data and results.
I lie about times and dates and destinations. 
I lie about when I'm coming, 
where I'm going,
and when I will arrive. 
I lie about the color of my car 
and the color of the sky 
and the color of my eyes. 
I lie about what you lied about to other liars. 
To other liars who are also lying.
Lying about you.
I lie about my disease,
my dysmorphia, 
and my decay.
I lie about cognitive dissonance 
and other big words.

I lie to professional liars.
Preachers and priests,
politicians and prostitutes.
I lie about farting. 
Did or didn't. 
Either way.
I lie on the quizzes I take online 
so the soulless algorithm 
will think I'm cool.
I lie about random coincidences 
as much as I lie about
earnest purposes. 
I lie about my relationship with God. 
I lie because there is no devil. 
I lie about Santa Claus,
the Easter Bunny,
and the Tooth Fairy. 
I lie to myself when I eat protein bars because they're good for me.
I lie when I try to convince myself that sweet potato chips are healthier than regular potato chips. 

I lie about quantum physics
and quark mechanics
and stellar principles and properties 
in the Cosmic Zone of Avoidance. 
I lie in pure manipulation,
stinging self depreciation,
and personal effacement.
I lie in my singing 
and my dancing 
and in my telling of stories. 
I lie to make the end of the story better.
I lie in the details.
A lie as I howl at the moon.

I lie to Peter Pan 
and to Cinderella. 
I even lie to her Fairy Godmother.
I lie to Jack and Jill 
and the Three Blind Mice. 
I lie to Mary, Mary, quite contrary, 
I lie to make her garden grow.
I lie to the ancient gods
and the Apostles,
Siddhartha and Confucius, 
Charlie Brown and Snoopy.
I lie to Lucy for five cents
when the psychiatrist is in.
I lie to Winnie the Pooh.
And Piglet too.

I lie to appear important 
and connected. 
I lie to get laid. 
I lie to date above the rim 
with women entirely too attractive for me. 
I lie to be seen with them 
and have them laugh at my jokes. 
I lie in the hopes of someone 
falling in love with me 
for not lying.
I lie about my hairline 
and the length of my Johnson. 
I lie about how great a lover I am.
I lie about my desperate need 
to be loved. 
And all the pathetic methods I try.
I lie when I tell you I'm fine 
and smile at your gesture.
I lie to you.

I lie to the sheep 
and I lie to the wolves.
To the keepers.
I lie to the lions and the lawyers,
The chattel and the chieftains. 
I lie to the cops
And the judge.
I even lie to the bailiff 
On the bible
On the record
On the run.

I lie about racism and bigotry and social injustice.
I lie when I toss change
into a vagrant's cup.
About ideals and resolve.
I lie about most anything.
Accomplishments,
achievements,
adventures.
And alliteration. 
Experiences,
education, 
endeavors. 
Even echoes 
of edification 
and explanation. 

I lie about who was first in line.
And who ate the last *******. 
I lie about the color of the seahorses in my dreams.
And I lie about what they tell me.
Anything.
I lie about what I tell myself 
when I look in the mirror. 
And so do you.
If you say you don't, 
you're a liar.
I know.

I am a liar.
Believe me
Jun 2020 · 185
Phantom Lover
Keith Frantz Jun 2020
Ghost of you,
my Phantom Lover
lays down 
beside me 
longer than you 
ever had.
I've lasted 
wearied years 
since you left. 
Your Phantom
moved in
upon me
thereafter.
Together we've been since.
I haven't endured 
the madness 
in my clouds
alone. 
I have now 
spent more time 
with your ghost.

She is easier 
to live with, 
your ghost.
Perhaps just as deadly, 
just as dangerous.
In my mind anyway.
Her phantom presence 
scares me to death.
Your ghost 
has since convinced me 
I don't know you. 
And I never did.

Your Ghost
whispers, 
musing verse:
"She isn't quite 
your toothy flower, 
pernicious and proud
with all the power.
Hellbent high
and burning sour...
trippin 'round 
the Midnight Hour."

We can be ourselves,
Your Phantom 
and I.
There is not much hiding.
And certainly no projecting.
The ghost of you 
doesn't humiliate me 
or make me small.
She is gentle 
and smiles 
more easily.
She is here, 
next to me 
when I am alone.

I need her in my life.
Even if 
it is just to remind me
of the pain, 
the haunting, 
the torment. 
The memory in her 
fills me. 
Not of you.
Fills me 
with my shameless love 
for you.

My Phantom Lover
inspires my poetic bursts 
and employs 
my empty moments. 
My thoughts of her 
task me 
to create, 
to express, 
to love. 

Your pre-dawn reach,
your vampire lust
awakens us both.
Context of promise 
and hope 
in colored air
hangs briefly.
Your Phantom
wraps her angelic limbs
about my trembling frame
and I drift,
dreaming of
Wasted Love.

It seems your ghost 
is more present 
now 
than yourself 
when 
we were together. 
Sometimes 
it consumes me, 
however, 
as I am not 
strong enough 
to resist.
I am 
just weak enough 
to dream 
to hope
What could have been
instead
of what was.
The idea
of what we
could be…

My siren sings softly,
more verse:
"Just when I think 
I have no more heart 
to break...
Just when I feel
I have no more love 
to take,
Bitterness and resentment 
now careless contentment.
Impressions upon 
my pillow case,
Fine lit hair 
like golden lace.
Like promises 
we didn't keep
Empty loss
so sharp,
too deep.
For not a life 
you didn't see,
your ghost found 
true love
with me.
You were but a luxury 
Phantom Lover,
now necessity.
After night binge,
your memory…"

Her prayer,
your Phantom, 
my lover,
the next witch
may release your pebble
from my shoe
and exorcise you 
with her noble magic.
I don't worry
how many drinks
she's had.
Or what meds
your ghost 
is abusing.
She does not add words
or remove them
from the sentences 
I speak.
She is honest and loyal.
She is still here.
Beside me.
I can only see now 
what doesn't exist.
As though it never did.

Just now,
this moment.
In my ear…
She muses:
"Promised nothing
granted everything
attempts to sleep
At once,
the grief;
thoughts of you 
wake my mind.
Heartbeat 
quickens.
Pain in time…"

I hover,
floating
with haunting awareness.
I live in happy sadness.
Your Phantom 
is a corruption 
in my head 
not my heart.
She is my idea
of you.
Apr 2020 · 150
Different Sky
Keith Frantz Apr 2020
Under white pillow ceilings
I witness in childlike wonder
The Great King Elephant 
did hide in the Clouds 
with his friends 
Death and Folly
Honu and Homer's heroes
Pavarti with Peacocks
and Rockhopper Penguins

The World has stopped 
The Oceans 
then whispered 
to the Earth
The Sky overheard them
and sculpted again
with great abandon 
The Earth 
was tremendously overjoyed 
She set upon 
bolder trees and wiser deserts 
And let the animals know
Flowers with unique faces
de novo in the joy of the Rain
cleansing the lonely paths of man

I beheld a Different Sky today
sweet with promise and decorum
where Clarity holds Paramount
She repeats
to those who will listen

The Sun sang his shiny song 
and threw spotlights 
unspoiled upon
all the Creatures of Creation
Beast and bird 
synced reminiscent rhythms
Breaking through 
the now ancient 
Cities of Gold
Enormous flocks did crowd 
the modern Sky
And the Rebirth is known
As Phoenix itself 
leads the formation

Through it all
The Stars see us 
more clearly now 
The Moon somehow 
seems moments closer 
as she winks delish 
and swings her sass

They each escaped
to the freshborne 
Lilac Meadow
where they cajoled and rejoiced 
The Wind and the Rain 
teased the Clouds
The Sun begged the Moon 
for this symbolic dance
The Stars waltzed
hide-and-seek 
with the shrubs 
and the hedges
Man was invited too
He was warned 
not to play too close 
to the Fire
Again

All danced 
our blessed dance
And revelled 
As Yesterday's pyre
flared higher
and farther
Licking the toes 
of all living things

Golden foxes 
did strike fair accord
with withered sheep
and woeful jackrabbits
Truer still
The Elements
once again granted
Man humble magnificence 
I stood reverently 
encouraged and inspired
by this reset
Alas repurpose
Another opportunity yet
Of Nature's Last Chance
In our New World
Under a Different Sky

April 8th, 2020
I wrote this for my mother on her 82nd birthday in the Year of Our Pandemic.
She complained about how dark and tragic my poetry is. I wrote her this about man's time and emergence after the COVID-19 pandemic.
Mar 2020 · 138
Safe Corner
Keith Frantz Mar 2020
Safe Corner

Where you're living
in my head
Escaping corners
and tunneling through
Spaces leaving
sober dread
Twisting and turning
your rusty *****

Constant raking
and scraping
I endure
Memories bashed
black and blue
Your affection
and love
a casted lure
Aching mind
and heart so true

I've found a corner
a place so small
Too far now
from your evil light
Somewhere safe
inside to crawl
You cannot reach me
in this fight

I live there
when the pain’s
too much
Resting safely
during haunting times
Forgetting dreams,
nightmares, and such
Holding dearly
against your
cruelist crimes

Here I holdfast
blocking out
the shame
Of allowing you in
to do your damage
Lest your apologies
against hollow claim
Cementing certain
bonded baggage

I won't let you in
or let you see
I shall make
for self preservation
Trying all
may save
what's left of me
Built only
for strict aspiration

Trapped here now
am I all alone
Trust and folly lost
I shall lament
In this haven
I must atone
A prison within
untold torment

Safe from you now
and deeds you've done
Dug in so deeply
away from affliction
Turned in my mind
this place to run
Agony no longer
my sweet addiction

Sacred sanctuary
I will stay
Abandonment fortified
behind silent bars
Until yesterday
can fade away
I witness
unreachable world
bereft of stars
Mar 2020 · 95
Sweater Weather
Keith Frantz Mar 2020
I sat at our diner this night and stared across the vinyl booth.
Your vacant silhouette seemed to suddenly reach for something and I could swear I heard you laugh.
I pushed my food from one side of the plate to the other until dry potatoes spilled onto the table.

I sat there dully, alone.  
I began navigating the rhythm of my relationships, of our relationship. 
I believe the most satisfying sport for you was to ignore me when I craved your attention the most. 

My heartache has become my lover these days.
I hold your phantom hand as I step my unsteady path home. 
High above the lane I see tea lights on a terrace. 
Dancing light plays upon the night and Billie Holiday weeps faintly from an open window.

It's sweater weather now and the chill directs me home. 
It's cold. You are cold.
I must find warmth.
I turn on your playlist as I fall to sleep and think,
The more impossible, 
The deeper the love.
Feb 2020 · 88
Seven Once
Keith Frantz Feb 2020
When I was seven years old,
my parents
took my brother, sister, and I
to the beach
in Crescent City.

As we stood
near the shore,
a fish jumped
out of the waves
and into my hands.

It was at that moment
I became aware
I am capable of anything.

True story.
I was seven once.
Feb 2020 · 78
Time To Go
Keith Frantz Feb 2020
Time to go.
My world has withered.
This pandemic 
will sweep me away 
from joy undiscovered 
and beauty unrealized.
The blossoms 
are no longer blooming 
on The Mall,
The Eternal Flame has gone out.
Darkened jackboots 
drown out 
the honor tap 
of The Tomb Guard.

Sycophantic sickness 
spreads scourge 
as babies are caged, 
holiday dinners are ruined, 
and he grabs them 
by the *****.
Half a hallowed hall 
stands and cheers 
as a racist 
presents a medal 
to another racist. 

Our Divided States 
watch in helpless horror.
A Nation's Nightmare continues.
Decent dissidents are bombarded with a continuous campaign of lies.
Lie after lie.
Gone are accountability 
and reason.
This land has formally been set adrift by an immoral government obsessed with greed and power. And then… 
greed 
and power.

Boasting and bragging 
and bellowing his *******, 
the hapless dictator steals 
his fortune in a cacophony 
of crime and cover-up,
Corruption and concealment. 
The soured and slow 
are but chattel and fodder 
for our people's demise.
Oaths mean nothing,
Moral consciousness lost.

The sheep bleat louder now,
Not for the wolves,
But at the wiser sheep.
Rip it up
Rip it up indeed!
Rip up lies
Tear apart misinformation 
Tear it all up
We are near the end.

It's time to go.
It's time to go
straight to the Booth 
For one last try.
We must
Bring back the Bloom
And honor the Tomb
We MUST fight
To keep Liberty lit
We will not let
Democracy die
In the darkness!

Before we are gone
It's time to go.
Feb 2020 · 86
Happy New Day
Keith Frantz Feb 2020
As Earth's pirouette
its eternal dance,
We celebrate another darkness to light
Along superfluous mythical demarcations between the two

Thus, tonight's witnessed passing
Offers little more
than the last
Perhaps nothing more
than the next
Dare say I,
Common
Unspecified...

Yet archaic rituals
And tried traditions true
Ring throughout Her
Witching Hour
As a new pass
An open invitation
Clean slate

Our night is,
as all the others
Created, She was
For wishes
Promises
Kisses
Beginnings

The line drawn
in Her midnight sand
Is but an illusion
You are welcome
To resolve
Anything
Anytime
Anywhere

We do not require this
Concocted date
To dance and sing
Nor celebrate

Conjuring Love
And Peace
And Hope
This Eve!

Eternal is not infinite
And infinite is not timeless
Time is merely
A wicked concept
In which we box our lives

Yell and sing and kiss
Hold each other tight
Each new day
And Dance
your eternal dance
Each and every night

Happy New Day
Feb 2020 · 90
So Long I Have Waited
Keith Frantz Feb 2020
Excitement catch me
So long have I wondered
From around the bar
Across the years

Our kiss once long ago
Ignited my flame
So far I've come
Where have you been?

Reconnect now
Fluttering joy
Anxious desire 
To discover how

Meet me at sunset
And I'll whisper you truth
So long have I waited
To taste you once more
Jan 2020 · 84
The Darkest Door
Keith Frantz Jan 2020
Sinister breath 
with deadly hands
Minister Death 
blackens all plans
Amber mist tendrils 
creep from Her Door
Seducing ambivalence 
once evermore
Down this long 
and empty hall
Stood I have, 
to defy my fall
The Darkest Door 
does beckon me
I hear Her soft call 
offer the key

Should I chance 
open The Door?
Something waiting 
never seen before?
Slowly seeping 
through the floor
Unearthly light 
of gothic lore...

Tentative yet 
deliberate stride
Forever gone 
erroneous pride
Lead my passage 
to my death 
Unwavering now, 
captured breath!
No one knows 
the other side
The pious fight 
Holy Divide
Religious sacraments 
shall provide
Else, all others 
claimed and lied

To open The Door 
and cure all pain? 
Perhaps all Things 
together again?
Like the ring empty 
of Her finger
My heartfelt ache 
shall always linger
I know better than share 
this Final Poem
Those wounded shall read it 
twice once I'm home.

Slow black robe walk 
I now tread
Lord's weeping steps 
toward The Dead
I pretend not to notice 
Your brilliant luster
With the same glorious deceit 
led me trust Her
I pretend not to reach 
for Your eternal promise
Within my body cosmos 
my witness Saint Thomas
I doubt The Door 
and all She offers
My Heart, Mind, Soul 
all wistful coffers

Ill-fated, alone 
where I live in here
Amidst constant regret 
and lasting fear 
Whether pills or rope 
or a single bullet
Suffering forever 
The Door my gauntlet 
Be it fumes or bridge 
or rapid train
The Door dooms, 
myself I will have slain
Curiosity leads me 
to and away
From Death's Door 
I die to stray

Not surrounded by the countless 
I have touched 
The differences I have made 
to and such
Hard timber voices 
and friends to the end
Fatal my choices 
be made, cleansed, and penned

Ignored, rejected, 
and consumed by abuse
My struggle reflected
looms threads in my noose
This Door unlocks 
by curiosity 
Unknown Her 
squeaky hinge atrocity
Dangerous **** 
turns one way temptation 
Distorted Azreal 
casts thee forsaken!

Sympathetic souls 
who woo me to live
Feed themselves over 
again to forgive
As ancestors whisper 
ironic invitations
I float as I whimper 
twice-quick damnation!
Our time waiting 
is sorrowfully short run
Colors dance and fade
when Life's painting is done
I have offered all 
and then enough more
I'm drawn nearer still 
t'ward my Darkest Door

Scribing above my bedroom wall
A final message wails my call 
One thousand verses 
I have carved above the bed
Darkening dither thickening 
within my head
Desperate pleas from above 
I have shed
O! Cradle lover's knees 
once I am dead

My note, once found, 
should one soon after arrive 
Would task each themself 
why I did not survive
Three answers thus
No, no, and yes
By which sequence 
the reader place them
Innocence or guilt 
will each condemn
I shall consent 
to those living 
to decipher 
If They had a cause 
in My life, 
death, 
or neither

Agony and misery 
Torture and strife 
Lead me in anguish
To extinguish this life
The final solution 
for a temporary problem
A primal delusion 
tender Cemetery Autumn
Outstretched slow
My trembling reach 
Hope gone now
Here, through the breach


January 22, 2020
I realize this may trigger various responses from some of you. Please understand I have first-hand experience of the subject but treated this only as a theme, not a desire.
Please read it in that manner.
If you have concerns or questions, please feel free to reach out and DM me. Or...
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
Jan 2020 · 84
Unrecognizable
Keith Frantz Jan 2020
My feelings never go away 
I continue to brutally pound them into submission 
Until my very heart's blood howls
Minute by minute 
Year after year
To hide them
So they won't bother you anymore 
You cannot even see me
I am unrecognizable
Dec 2019 · 119
The Shame of Now
Keith Frantz Dec 2019
Pointing and Tweeting 
and Lying out loud 
Misinforming, Misdirecting 
and Masquerading as proud
A Fool’s Grand Folly 
proves to allow
Our once Great Nation sanctions
The Shame of Now

No longer the beaming beacon 
of Freedom and Light
Lost drowning under agendas 
of a fascist Right
Our promise of Equality,Opportunity, and Justice for ALL
Has dimmed deep dark
Led by dishonorable leaders 
with minds too small

Lie upon lie 
to seize and deny
Each worthy Virtue
As lethargy stands by
To ignore is to condone 
this integral deceit
Lighting matches in the wind
at a scheming Witch’s feet

Political shame 
is nothing new
Its open promotion 
defines Red versus Blue
But our current taste 
for Snake Oil Greed
Summoned upon us 
with foul racist creed
This Demon’s charm
Hastens reckless danger 
Has brought us harm
Unstable chaotic anger

Voter apathy 
has thus condemned
Heads and feet 
buried too deep in sand
Qualifying lies
EACH AND EVERY DAY
This cancer has spread
“But the economy…” they say!

At what cost 
is you dignity lost?
When the lines of life and decency are crossed...

Bragging and gagging
The few who spew through
False rallies and chants
Show us how 
the ignorant rants
Further convey
The Shame of Now

Manipulation of masses 
televised showing their *****
Compassion gone, 
Our Character drawn
Hate and Greed 
Their ugly seed
Dividing is no great mystery
Exacting this moment in history

Love and Compassion 
No longer in fashion,
Diplomacy and Compromise
Cuffed behind 
self-righteous disguise
Gilded ideology 
and forgotten vow
Convey the disgraceful 
Shame of Now

Gone now too,
Our Golden Rule
The Bully stalks on
A sullied Fool
Human rights aside
Jackboots must abide
We've lost our soul
To the latest poll

Non apologetic rhetoric 
Inviting a World thickly sick
Embattled, embittered,
Disastrously entwittered
But crisis mode 
Has always shown
To tow the load
We MUST always reap
What we have sown 

Soon critical mass
Will expose this ***
For all he's said and done
His base too
Shall also rue 
Days of ugliness won
A National Reckoning 
Is overdue
The Conscientious beckoning
For all things true

Until this time
Heed my rhyme!
Of Machiavellian theft
Cunning deceit and lying
With Hope for a future bereft
Of stolen children forever crying
Until Election Night
We FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT

Yet We remain bewildered how
We must face 
The Shame of Now
Dec 2019 · 585
Dogs Will Save The World
Keith Frantz Dec 2019
Dogs will save us.
Dogs will save us from ourselves.
They will save our souls 
and lick us until we giggle.
Dogs will cure cancer 
and end our suffering.
They will teach us to appreciate art 
and guard us from the monster 
under the bed.

Dogs will be our best friends.
They will save our marriages 
and emancipate our embittered youth. 
Dogs will champion us 
against the inhumane atrocities 
and tragic sadness 
of our battered world.


They will regulate the cat,
announce the mailman, 
and keep your neighbors honest.
Dogs will wake us 
with their breath 
and melt us with their eyes.
Their expressions alone 
will tell us tales as old as time. 


Each dog is a brilliant magician 
and will perform extraordinary miracles 
in an accidental moment.
Every dog is also an empath 
and all dogs remind us to care.
Dogs instinctively know 
what you're thinking 
and feel what you're feeling.
Dogs will train us in love, 
expose us to death, 
and make glorious our lives in between.

Dogs will forever anticipate your return.
Your turn of the doorknob 
remains their obsession.
They will always appreciate your cooking 
and approve of your outfit. 
Dogs will share their fur 
on your coats and gowns 
which will immediately admit you
to random strangers 
as one of their doghaired tribes.


Dogs will help you 
find the candles and the matches 
when the lights go out. 
Dogs will save you 
when your lover leaves you 
and dogs will mend your broken heart. 
They will pick up the sharp, painful pieces
of a shattered life.
Dogs will save you.

Dogs will pant you 
into soft, necessary naps.
Dogs will wag their tails
to find your lost keys 
and make it rain in your garden. 
Dogs will strike a global peace accord 
and defecate on the lawns 
of white collar criminals. 
Dogs will save us.

Dogs will save the world.
They will walk their humans 
and fertilize our soil. 
They will exercise us 
and make our world grow.
Dogs will change parks 
into open churches 
and turn pet stores 
into grand cathedrals. 
They will inspire 
epic poems
and celestial songs.
Dogs will forever remain
the canine aria
in our human opera.

Dogs will find you. 
They will find their way home, 
find their way home to you.
Dogs are happy to see you…
unless they've dug into the garbage can. 
Or countersurfed away your toast,
your egg rolls, 
or your chicken *** pie!
Even then, the dog will teach us
other valuable lessons. 
Dogs teach us every day.
They teach us humanity.
Ironically. 
Dogs teach us 
to be our better selves.
They do this with 
very little expectation 
and not any pretentiousness whatsoever. 

Dogs offer happy drool, 
warm bellies, 
and cold noses.
They offer us 
immediate compassion 
and direct honesty.
Dogs will discover and expose 
the very best
and absolute worst 
of everything around them. 
Dogs will save us.

Dogs will open the cages. 
And save the whales 
and protect the forests. 
Dogs will watch over 
the battleless child
and dogs will eventually 
end the pointless wars
and our desire for us
to **** each other.
Dogs will sniff 
the crotches of corruption 
and lick the hands of liberty.

All our critical questions
and significant solutions
are accurately answered 
and obviously evident
by the love of a dog.
Indeed.
Dogs will save us.

If you don't have a dog,
go save a dog.
And it will certainly 
Save You.


October 25th, 2019
Apr 2019 · 1.9k
The Big, Lonely Bed
Keith Frantz Apr 2019
The big, lonely bed, stationary in all its essence, longed for her return. It resented the man now, biting and clawing at his skin. Although he had done nothing intentional or malicious to the bed, the bed held the man accountable and punished him for it.

The bed was nothing without the man's mistress. She had lain on the bed, dressed it with color and sweetness and light. She adorned the bed with her body, her being.
At times, the mistress and the big, lonely bed seemed to meld, to become one. And this had filled the bed with life. The big, lonely bed was not lonely yet.

The man never offered any of this to the big, lonely bed. He would come home late and drunkenly pass out on the bed. He would eat his meals on the bed and pay all his attention to the TV. His crumbs would find the recesses of the bed's matting and he rarely changed the bedding. Sometimes, he would ******* on the bed without a care.

It wasn't clear if the mistress missed the bed as much as the bed missed her. Or if the mistress even missed the bed at all. The bed never spoke of it, as inanimate objects are forbidden from such things. The big, lonely bed considered greatly her long absence now but couldn't quite fittingly express its pain.

The man began enduring several sleepless nights on the bed. He was too determined to admit why. Denial was his restful tool. But the bed did wake him. The big, lonely bed scratched at his comfort. Scratched at the man's contentment and resolve. The bed kept the man awake with pain and desire and awareness. The bed was not going to let the man just “use” it. There is a price to pay for sleep and the big, lonely bed was determined to extact it.

The man tossed and turned these early, restless nights. Embattled by the bed's desperate curse, the man continues to lose precious, precious sleep. He was too self-absorbed to know he was under siege by the big, lonely bed. He tried applying pharmaceutical methods and concocted psychosomatic cures for his lack of sleep. The man began to consider himself an insomniac and openly complained to his friends about it.

The big, lonely bed's desire for the return of the man's mistress reached new levels of retribution as the bed started to manipulate its springs and padding to muddle its very own comfort and purpose. Now the man could only list one way or the other on the bed. He thought about his lost love. And his lost sleep…

The man was also losing to the big, lonely bed. He longed for the slumber he so desperately needed. Without restful peace, he began to teeter near ledges, dangerous and desolate ledges. There he quietly mumbled her name. The man sobbed as he whispered the horrors he had played victim to by the very mistress the bed adored.

The big, lonely bed listened as the man cried his tears of missed opportunities and sincere attempts with the mistress. She had treated him badly. The man's tears fell upon the bed. And the bed absorbed the man’s agony. The bed had been blinded by its own desire for her, never considering the man's love for her and his subsequent loss.

The man was broken now. Broken in his reckless actions and his desperate thoughts to relive and repair the relationship, to fix it. To fix everything, to fix himself. He was broken without sleep.

The big, lonely bed began to sympathize as the man counted the periodic struggles he weathered when confronted by his mistress's manic episodes. The man had indeed survived her bipolar tirades when she encouraged her fueled rage with doses of antidepressants mixed with long-poured ***** and tall glasses of Pinot Gris. The bed remembered these exhausting nights and recalled the punishment the man endured for simply loving her.

The bed did witness the man's suicidal flirtations and pathetic attempts to blame himself. To blame himself for all of it. If he could only share just one more night with her. One more night on his bed with her… in his bed. Talking and laughing. Loving and planning. He could fix this. With the help of his big, lonely bed, the man could fix it all.

The bed did take pity on him.
The big, lonely bed understood now. And welcomed the man that night, lonely no more.
April 18, 2019
Apr 2019 · 158
Ogre1
Keith Frantz Apr 2019
I'll write this to you, father, in the first person. First person narrative is your preferred narrative  This was my midnight dream between the days of Sunday, March 31st and Monday, April 1st, 2019. You have been dead just three years and 14 days.
Your honorary NCAA basketball pool bracket, in which I enter in your honor every year, was busted last night when the Duke Blue Devils lost to the Michigan State Spartans 68-67. Your bracket name was Ogre1. Just as it was in real life.

The dream was bizarre, as most dreams tend to be but you walked hard in this dream and I still wondered, as I woke, which places in my subconscious you walked so hard to convey your message to me.

We waited for you. The three faceless and I. And there was a child. Perhaps an eight year-old boy with us. He was waiting too. Faceless. I imagine he was me but there's no real telling in a dream as there is no real telling of any dream. Just scattered attempts at placing all the players and places and things in some justifiable juxtaposition…

We waited. We waited for you to arrive after your board meeting. The four of us. And the boy. Five together. The other three adults were too familiar. We waited in your 1972 Buick Estate Wagon. The four of us across the bench seat in the front. The boy laid in the back back.
I knew he was there as he periodically popped his head up in anticipation for your arrival. He began to look a bit like you. A bit like me.

You appeared as a hurried specter across the lawn of my childhood home. A lawn I had mowed a thousand thousand times. It was raining slightly and I could see the lawn as it grew in the night air. Your obsession with fertilizer and having me mow it egregiously throughout the seasons had awarded you your goal of having the best lawn in the neighborhood. I will forever mow your lawn in all dreams.

A cigarette lingered in your right hand, you held a smart, tight satchel of work papers in your left. You got in the back seat and laid down. Face up at first, until you finished your smoke. After you had extinguished it in the clean, shiny metal ashtray in the armrest attached to the door, you turned away from us in the front seat and laid on your side. The boy peaked over the seat at you. You winked at him before closing your eyes.

I could not tell if you were awake as we pulled out of our driveway. The driveway where you had single-handedly beaten the neighborhood kids in basketball games. Beaten us a thousand thousand times…

We drove off in the dark and slight rain. I had no idea where we were headed. And it didn't much matter as the three other faces became clearer. Each face dreamily and slowly morphed into characters of my psyche. Obama was driving. Next to him was Hillary. Squeezing me against the shotgun door was Trump. Supertramp's “Goodbye Stranger” played purposefully on the AM radio.

The two were smiling. And laughing about something. Mr. Personality next to me was complaining about how someone had said something about him and much ado about something being somebody else's fault. My disdain for him only grew when I checked over my shoulder to see if you were okay and I caught the stench of his lies right in my face. It tainted my nostrils and contaminated my mouth as I turned. His breadth, his revolting self, was bleeding into my space. I detested him for intruding in my dream… my dream about you.

He was there, however, to build balance. A reckless balance. An ugly, reckless balance between us. Your wife and I often contemplate whether you'd lock horns with this particular buffoon if you were still among the living. Or would you continue your downward spiral of consuming your daily allotment of FOX News propaganda channel horseshit and play today's version of Archie Bunker??

Lois and I tend to think you would see right through this malevolent con man and wave the old Republican flag for Kasich, McCain, and those who fought the good fight. But here he was. In our car, with us, smooshing me against the door. Belching foulness. And going with us wherever we were headed. Headed with unnecessary balance.

We arrived at a retreat.
A recreational retreat somewhere in what could easily have been deep in the Santa Cruz Mountains. An early evening summer day.
A warm, almost purple twilight glow laid over the entire forest like a visible snow globe, encasing us as we each headed to our cabins.
The three politicians faded but the boy remained.

We wanted to follow you to your cabin. Follow you to make sure you got there safely. You had aged suddenly, during the ride. You walked tenderly, with purpose, favoring your lower back and your knees. I called after you. You didn't look back.

The retreat had scheduled activities. Most were hokie and I knew you'd pass on the therapy and “treatments”. But they offered a jacuzzi crawl and that fit the bill. I knew you'd enjoy that one.

I hovered now, like the specter you once were. I could see the compound from above. I watched as the boy went to retrieve you from your cabin and accompany you on the jacuzzi crawl. You had gone ahead. I was now a prisoner in the mind's eye of the boy as we, as I, raced through the encampment. Looking for you, searching for you.

A trail of mild destruction led me after you. A lawn chair knocked over, a picnic umbrella on the ground, low branches splintered…
It was if we were tracking an obnoxious and ornery silverback toward his next jacuzzi!

Then I found you. The boy found you. You were floating ever-gracefully in the jacuzzi on the aft deck of the Crown Princess. We were sailing to Hawai'i and had at least another day out before arriving on O'ahu.

This, the dream, and this realm, was the last earthly jacuzzi you enjoyed. How we found you, Ogre1, here in this dream, is a mystery.

April 1, 2019
Mar 2019 · 159
May I Come?
Keith Frantz Mar 2019
May I come lay with you
in your morning hours?
Come kiss your neck,
hold your waist...
Breathe in your hair
and wake your silent soul?
Drink daybreak
with you
through your veiled windows?
Come read your books
and stir your flower blossom tea?
May I taste your sweet waking lips
and gaze into your loving eyes…
May I come make your heart sing?
Can we talk and laugh,
writhe and love...
then lay silently
in solvent contentment
and open joy?
Please
O please
let me come dance for you!
I can be there in mere moments.
May I come...?
Mar 2019 · 155
Cricket Song
Keith Frantz Mar 2019
There lives a cricket in my kitchen.
He sings his tireless serenade from somewhere above the refrigerator, where no one goes.
I cannot see him.
I cannot find him.
He lives there though.
Of this, I am sure.
His song wrings an anthem of our miraculous and incidental reality.
We are both born of the same stardust and he knows this.
His tune to propagate goes unanswered, as far as I know.
His call to the universe is merely met by my slight annoyance when I return home every night.
My annoyance with him is not equal to the aggravation I have for the crow who owns the treetop in my yard.
The cricket sings his sweet song in an effort to get laid whereas the crow stays busy loudly bossing everyone around in the neighborhood and occasionally crapping on my car.
I secretly look forward to my late night return home and the song my kitchen mate brings.
I have become akin to my unseen friend, his melodies to our world, his need for another.
I imagine his songs are my songs, songs of our ancestors, songs of our deepest loves and longest days, songs of what happens to us after we die.
Relentless songs!
His courage and insight are unbridled in his telling.
He becomes silent as I near.
I turn out the light to signal my approval but he waits until I am safely away.
He has a story to tell.
I sit in the dark.
And listen.
Feb 2019 · 106
My Last Heart
Keith Frantz Feb 2019
How can I help but fear you?
You,
offering the light
from my darkness
Handing
Reaching
Trusting
Your torch…

Many before
have burned me
so badly.
Is yours the white light I seek?
O, how many
I have grabbed before
Only to fry my flesh
Too much heat
has melted this heart
I am frightened

Frightened of your flame
I seek its warmth
Its care
And love
How can I resist your love?
To protect my last heart...
Must I walk through fire
for promise of redemption
For comfort
And Love

I stir awake
while you slumber
I touch your fingertips
As I watch your breath
draw inside your chest
I wonder if you're real
How has grace arrived
In my life?
In my heart…?

As I ponder
my pity and fear,
I recognize
your unseeable wounds
Your cuts so deep
You,
too,
have been etched by
Lovepain's eternal flame
Soul grated scars
And your timeless terrors
Yet bravely offer your heart
Your trust
Your love

How?
How do you achieve
Such strength
After such despair?
Yet,
You are here
With me
Now
I cannot question love

I am commanded by it!
With unabashed resolve
To offer my own torch
To you
My light and love,
Faint and marred,
Of my last heart
Dec 2018 · 147
Frozen Bubble
Keith Frantz Dec 2018
As my evening dawn unfolds
I walk up my front home path
I see my Son on the porch
in his loving Mother’s arms
She's holding him
Teaching him
Loving him

He's blowing bubbles
I witness his Mother's delight
My Son is pleasing her
with his first bubbles
Pleasing me
Learning
Growing
Doing
So fast

Several bubbles now
Recent reflections
In each opaque sphere
As they waft
Toward me
Over me
Past me
In the twilight across
The seedling yard
of my young family

I watch countless bubbles
in a moment's time
Float by
Displaying
Declaring
Each of my new Son's feats
His unabashed trials
Attempts
Failures and successes

Bubbles popping
Popping popping
In each its place
Popping
Before
I can catch them
Watch them
Treasure each

The very bubble
revealing my Son
presently blowing bubbles
lands on my chest
near my heart
I want to freeze this bubble
I want to freeze
My Son's life
His purity
His innocence
I want to live in this moment
For more than this moment

I catch myself freezing
Freezing this bubble
Stopping it
I want to enjoy this
I want to enjoy all his bubbles
To love
To live
In this moment
I want it to last
I want his Mother to see
What I see
To share
This moment
Us three
Perfection
In a
Frozen Bubble
Dec 2018 · 325
Broken Web
Keith Frantz Dec 2018
Every predawn morning,
under starry skies,
I pass between two trees
linked by an inevitable spiderweb.

It occurs to me,
on my way to work,
I have just undone
the spider's entire workday.

Like me, the spider
stays to its pattern.
He never strays.
And never learns.

Just like the spider,
my web will be there tomorrow...
For someone to unwittingly destroy.
Nov 2018 · 142
Keepsake
Keith Frantz Nov 2018
I wake throughout my tired night
Passing painted panes
Of dreamed delight

Your image lust
haunts my visions now
Slumber’s rest
shall not allow

I think of you
under Full Moon glare
First kiss deep
A touch so rare
Bodies connect
Against cold night air
Chasing direct
Surging up
Pleasing dare

All night did I twist
Scenarios dreams
and wished romance
Urging to be kissed
Desire swept true
Reached here
This endless dance

Presently I wait
Hear to beckon me
Floating upon fate
Fear to race and see

Your call will calm my soul
So I may sleep again
Our silly Sandman stole
Not dreaming until then

I long to hear your voice
this early fresh
and raw daybreak
My first blush choice
Your kiss bewitched
My one keepsake

November 24th, 2018
Keith Frantz Nov 2018
If it were the last night of the world, would you come to me?
If you knew I were dying, would you come?

If I needed you
If I called
Would you save me?
Forgive me, hold me?
Would you brush my fears and tears away with your love?

Would you sacrifice comfort and divinity
For the love
To save me
To calm me
And create peace everlasting ?

Would we wed atop the Tower
and trek to the Falls
Make love with the last sunset
And fade with dying stars?

If night never ended
And darkness stopped time
If it all was ending
Would you come rest with me?

If it was the last night of the world, would you love me…?
Nov 2018 · 140
Gone Now
Keith Frantz Nov 2018
Her slumbering substance
fills my space
with sequins of silver
and piping of lace

I long to touch
Her divine supple skin
Reaching and wanting
Driven lust and sin

She steps to the street
Knowing and fair
I follow drunkenly
To her night’s lair

Floating behind
Her wicked gait
Riding her waft
To my deadly fate

She owns me
You see
Despite desperate plea
I cannot resist
My beloved’s bait
I am nothing
Please nothing
If not her mate

I cry my story
So you may hear
Love’s fleeting glory
Never so clear
Barely she knows not
My desire so fraught
If so, I'll know
By nary a tear

Gone now
Off of the world
Sorrow held
Chances unfurled

Escaped my love
Chasing her deeper
Pale seeps vast
My efforts to keep her

Her darkness above
Now claims my restless soul
My tale true
Heart bloodied blue
Hath here my true love
Placed me in my earthly hole

Gone now am I
From follies light
Forever toward
My lover's night
Jul 2018 · 138
The Great Educator
Keith Frantz Jul 2018
Distance we charge
Life’s common mark
All things
Storm onward
Toward eventual end

Myths and Stories
Cannot escape
The Great Educator
Reaches for us all

Do dreams dissolve
Under Death's
Final Cloak?
Weep thus!
Ours is near

Memories shared
Across measured time
Fate lends our
Soul Exchange
Those loved
And lost

Praise while
Sunlight lasts
Now is never
Again to see
Jul 2018 · 153
Butterfly
Keith Frantz Jul 2018
Aloft on the Tropopause
I discover my glitter
Gold and Blue
Red and black
The crushed dust and
Gossamer feathers
O’ these weathered wings
Jumped rosebud, aster,
and Little Leaf lilac
Through the circadian stratosphere
and thermal lift
Feather dust and fatal glitter
Colors crushed against my wings
Picked cleanly by yet another lover
One whose seductive skills
led me to believe we were alike
From sticky nothing egg
She became pupae
Eating of my leaves
Eating
Eating
Gorged and odd
So full of me
She became chrysalis
Cocooned herself
Away from me
Hardened
And changing
Changing where I could not see
Only to emerge as glorious
Grandiose and Gorgeous!
Butterfly!!!
Unaffected by my love
Flit away to pollinate
To inspire
Mate and mate and mate
Flower upon flower
If I'd only been a mantis
She’d have merely eaten my head
Instead, a Butterfly she was
And crushed my wings instead
I am mad at myself, truly
Mad at myself
for trusting another one
Believing the Butterfly
And letting her in
Again
They are all but butterflies
each many creatures
Egg, larvae, cocoon, and beast!
Watch out for open Springtime sky
Stave off your lust for pollen true
Behold my crushed wings
and fallen color dust
Once more
Beware the Butterfly
Jul 2018 · 107
Everything But the Kiss
Keith Frantz Jul 2018
She winks and smiles
And laughs at all my jokes
She warms the rooms
Through which I walk
I hear her whispers
Over crowd and din
She wakes my longing soul

She's funny and ****
And ready to rule
Pleasant and kind
With a ***** mind
Drawn in I am
A poetic fool

Bringing gifts
Food and drink
She floats on by
Gossamer wings
And pedals high

Yet she holds another's hand
And walks her path near his
She is but a whim
To me
A dream
I cannot wake

She is everything
But the kiss…
Jul 2018 · 144
Try
Keith Frantz Jul 2018
Try
Try

I try to remember why I'm alone
I try to forget why I hurt
I try not to walk away
To not beat myself up
And not to care

I try to understand
To hear
And listen
I try not to wince
At the words you say
I try not to cry out
When I'm hit hard

I try to give you everything
Anything I am able
I try to provide
To make you laugh
Make you smile
Make you dinner
Make you ***

I try to be liked
I try to be normal
To be sane
I tried to be attractive
And wanted
Desirable
I try to smiled graciously
And try not to be awkward

I try to find the words
And speak them clearly
To tell you
I try not to hurt myself
To stop the pain
The scraping
Noise and pain
I try to remember love

I try not to hate
Try not to hate your politics
Your religion
Your venom
Scorn and praise
I try to defuse
Before anger
Before escalation

I try to save the spiders
And the memories
The forests
And the whales
I try to hold the world
In my heart
And let sadness
Slip away

I try to anticipate
Whims and needs
See all sides
Your sides
I try to adapt
And overcome
I try to swallow lies
And shine only truth

I try to remember
How I feel in your arms
How you smell and taste
I try to feel
How it changed me
I try not to miss you
So much

I try to do it right
And come from a good place
I try to help those in need
Those less fortunate
With lost hope
I try to be mindful
And present
Kind

I try to keep in touch
To salvage our relationship
And friendships lost
I try to not disparage
Try to speak only well of you
I try to remember the good
And suppress the spite

I try to be forgiving
I try to forgive
To forgive
Forgive
Try
I try with all my might

I try to abide
In my temporary
Suspension of disbelief
I try to keep faith
As evil tides rise
I try
Often I fail
Only to try
To try
And try
Jul 2018 · 172
Nothing of Sweet Song
Keith Frantz Jul 2018
Your specter
sleeps aside me
A soulful
wanton banshee
Singing nothing
of sweet Song
I hear her wail
in my dreams
Pledging fear
In distant screams
I must wake!
I must be strong!
Madness…
Jan 2018 · 144
Waterfall
Keith Frantz Jan 2018
Eternal waters glide and fall
Time convergence, liquid wall
Misty vapor slowly rise
Beauty, nature's sacred prize

Violently born of forest cloud
Streaming river now unbowed
Trickles drawn, exalted source
Roar your fury
Sound your force

Whether beheld in wondrous awe
****** endless charge of summit's thaw
Fluid flow and liquid veil
Pour o’er rock and stone
On timeless shale

Distant waters leap and cleanse
From high before thy river bends
To bubbling pools of fizzled foam
Out to sea whence once your home

Enchanting allure measures time
Cascade chaotic surge design
Ethereal breath,
Earth Mother’s call
Bear glorious witness
Her Water Fall
I wanted to change themes from heartbreak and suicide and soul-crushing pain.
Nature and beauty, fair enough...
Jan 2018 · 169
If I Should Die Before You
Keith Frantz Jan 2018
If I should die before you
Do not grieve, do not wail
Celebrate all I have seen
All I have been,
Legend
Myth
And Tale

Know the fortune I have felt
The world I have loved
Sing the songs while we dance
Where gypsies once dwelt
Awe the dreams I lived
The laughter and romance

Moonwalks and seascapes
Pyramids and bonfires,
Waking sunrise glow...
Cable Cars and strangers
Koalas and Debussy,
Children and early Snow

Kahlo and hugs
Surf and starlight divine
Pinwheels and first kisses fine
Tragedy, and heartbreak
Yours and mine

Blessed I was
To love and wonder
To walk and scream
To spin and fall
Be joyous with
My tears and thunder
Now, the time to dream
Has seized us all

To all who sing my song
Of happiness and sorrow
Kindness and love,
Loss and triumph
Will the ‘morrow,

This life gives
For ever and ever
Dread not my end
I lived it through
Comedy’s endeavor
Never to again pretend

Welcome the next
And cherish the now
Yesterday’s brilliance
Should today allow

If I should die before you
Know what I have felt
Feel what I have known
Take what I have left
Reap what I have sown
Nov 2017 · 202
Knowing
Keith Frantz Nov 2017
As the Sun peaks
above its Morning Mountain
I crave your voice
I crave the Knowing

Dawn’s desire draws me near
Bless'd morning bodies entwined
unfolding breaths between...
Breeding harmony

The Sunday sweet Sanctuary  
The Before
Before all awakened eye
And anxious wonder

Lavender-lit painted skies
Cloak us under sweet sheets and clever comfort
Knowing

Neck nuzzles bring your arch
As I ache for you
Ache for your waking
Open, late dreams
float still
upon pillows of
Always and Forever

I watch as pink hues crest
And early birds carol
Day’s self awareness
Breaching
My perfect moment

I wish for you to know
To know this feeling
The Knowing
With me

Perchance
Your waking dream
Echoes my morning glory

I crave the Knowing
Oct 2017 · 158
0 Sacred Morning
Keith Frantz Oct 2017
O Sacred Morning,
I long for unwaking’s sweet embrace
Elusive are dreams unfinished, sorrowed
And lost

Pray thee return dark slumber
Restful limbs abandoned, worry on the make
Harken back to sleep, dear one,
my rest not yet complete

I must cease my busy mind and calm this weary body
Sleep still, sleep again
Not yet…
For the sacred morn.
Oct 2017 · 499
Hero's Cry
Keith Frantz Oct 2017
Dark and dangerous damsels all!
Harken my heed to The Hall!
There you'll find your broken man
Once so steady, word in hand
Chivalrous intentions still persist,
Would-be lovers yet insist
Hear this claim throughout the land
Heartbreak has made its final stand.

First kiss lies you put upon
His love-struck desire openly drawn
Clever whispers, tokens of deceit
Offer false promise, a life complete
Should he ever since true love find
Stoic, honorable, warm and kind
Instead a woman forging frozen heat
Herself all others she doeth cheat.

Your truths belie deceptive folly
Words disgrace values melancholy
The plays and acts of your selfish charm
Cannot try dissuade his sharp alarm
You’ve duly sung your siren's song
He’s awakened thus! And leaped headlong
No halting now from hero’s harm
His pain, eternal efforts to disarm.

Heroes have reached long for your heart
Gentry ambitions caused noble start
Lady Deception has lain her claws
Directly tearing virtuous cause
She cannot help herself, it seems
Her temperamental manner schemes
The love inside must surely die
From both the suitor and her lie
Nothing left save bitter dreams
O’ hollow silent endless screams.


Heroes die many of macabre accord
Falling upon their daunted sword
Worthless promise she has vowed
Nothing more than Vesta's shroud
Young men’s promise to hold true
Has been destroyed, Alas! By the few
Tarts and trollops plague the crowd
Harsh lessons ‘ere romance once proud

True love’s cunning and deceitful face
Condemned Sampson rout the Temple place!
By serpent’s tongue she doth speak
Where only true love he doth seek
Ill-mannered maids feign mystery
While decent men test history
Release me from thy maiden's bane
And surrender myself, devoted, again
To summit true love's crowning  peak
No folly left,
Mine heart is weak.

Upon this dream I shall die
Amid a broken hero's cry
Heed all acting faithfulness
With all one's heart must profess
Love is not a sword to parry
T’is but a gift, a song to carry
Take from these words my heart and sing
Of not cruelty, strife, or suffered King
No blood upon his battle dress
Valiant pursuits across mine chest.

— The End —