^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Arthur Benjamin Franklin: my Unca Artie, my favorite. A High School football star, known as Red Franklin, he was famous for his dark red hair.  He used to chuck me into deep water at Chrystal Pool to terrify me for 5 seconds, then hoist me onto his broad shoulders.I suspect I was his favorite too.  War came and he had to go.  I cried and cried on the herringbone patterned bricks at the train depot in Kelso. I have a v-mail he sent to my mom, his sister, dated 1942.  He was a belly gunner on the B-17’s that  were flying the area where Rommel was fighting.  He brought my sis and I back little leather suitcases, tooled in wonderful designs by a skilled artist somewhere in the orient. I still have it.  A treasure.

Grover Cleveland Franklin: My suave uncle, joined the Navy in WWII and became a deep sea diver. The kind that wore those heavy suits with the big glass bubble head.  He helped detect and destroy mines around battleships.  In doing that brave work he lost his hearing and came home as a lip reader for most of my childhood. I was always  a bit suspicious because he seemed to read lips so well. He even got written up in the newspaper because he could sing while putting his hands on a phonograph and feeling the vibrations of the music he couldn’t hear. We kids would always try to make loud noise behind him but he never once reacted to it.
Many years later I learned that he confessed that his hearing had gradually came back.  He was a hero nevertheless.

About their names: Both being born in North Carolina, back in the 1920’s it was common practice among the country folk to name sons after famous people.  I also have another distant relative named George Washington Franklin. I love having hillbilly DNA.

She is a flesh devouring fairy who feasts on children
who don't wash their hands and primp their toes
Darkly inclined she lives in the shadows, once bitten  
you will turn as evil as her extra long snubby nose

Her name is Darkelina and she snickers to herself    
she owns spidery fingers and her teeth are razor sharp  
Sponge em' down, disinfect, scour them clean or else  
she will cleave your little pinkie and stitch it to her harp

Darkelina Pixie-Meana  that is what they call her Heh !
better wash it or hide it before she finds you child
Gloomy and morose with a dark disposition, its her way
better tuck them under the covers, for she is crazy wild

Beyond the twitch of night she can give you such a fright
she's got teeth with jagged edges, boy how she loves to bite !

A year of true love
Four bouquets of flowers
Every petal slowly plummeting
Sitting in the middle of my room
How could I ever get rid of them
Especially since they’re from you.
My teenage love.

15 years of torture and love
1 blanket given to me years back
Still attached is your scent
How I miss that version of you
Maybe that’s why I hold onto it.
My once amazing dad.

The pencil scratching against the page
Words of love being written
The notes you write all together
Just like us..
I could never leave them alone.
My bag of love.

All together my room
If I’ve ever loved you your there
Attached to a wall or hidden in the closet
Your represented in some way
My 15 years of life packed into this space.

God came to me
In a dream last night
He didn't say which one
Voice ambiguous
Shape unclear
My eyeballs overcome
He's a lot funnier
Than you might expect
He's quite fond of a pun
His advice is for all
To laugh together
Or cry apart
Then all is done.

Leaning over you
I push the window open further
Caress your forehead
                          Under my breath
Stay silent

Leaning over you
I push the window open further
Caress your forehead
                          Under my breath
Stay silent

Sitting on the ottoman
I relive those
Two minutes
            In repetition
An hour has passed
             Could I have said more
             Than It’s OK
                       I love you
                       Let go

are you supposed to feel afraid when tasting daylight
after a long night?
am I supposed to shake and ache, at the idea of
sunshine on my face?

what is there to fear? you ask.
everything.

just a hint, a glimpse –
of a world, a life bathed in gold
and it will never be enough.
I will leap into the sky,
to capture the sun –
and swallow it whole.

it will burn going down,
burn me alive.
make me alive.

that is what is to fear.