When I was a little wolf pup,

I had some unique notions about this rough and tumble world.

Mostly these childhood thoughts involved color, sweetness, light,

and why the world is the way the world is.

You'll have to read these words with the mind of a child.

If you can't do that, then there's no hope for you anyway.

--Frank Saizan Owen


Colors of This Life

I held an old black and white photo in one hand

and a color photo in the other

and decided there must have been 

some unexplainable mystical event

whereby all of Creation finally grew from drab into full color.

I imagined thousands of years of muted grays suddenly transformed into the vibrancy of today

and whatever Great Force had managed to pull all that magic off

must be what everyone around me kept referring to as "God."

Every time I saw a black and white photo, I mumbled to myself:

'That was from the time before.'

 

All Women Are Sweet

One day my mother made me a treat: milk flavored with Strawberry Quick.

In my childhood mind, I was convinced she'd somehow made it from the milk of her own breast.

What an amazing magic trick!

 

A few years later, my nanny, Inez,

made me something similar: milk flavored with chocolate syrup.

 

Right then and there I concluded:

white women are pink and taste like strawberries

dark women are brown and taste like cocoa

but all are sweet in their own way.

I'm still right about that one.

 

Cowboys and Indians

I used to play "Cowboys and Indians."

I would change sides several times a week

until I started imagining them on the same side, working as a team.

I am still a bit of both to this day it seems.

 

Echoes of Soul-Parts Out in Space-Time

I arrived just before a hurricane.

Every day since has felt like a strong wind endlessly moving me.

 

We were always moving when I was a little one

so I learned never to settle, put down roots, or get too attached to anyone.

 

Even today, I wonder what parts of me are still floating out there

left in different places along the way.

 

I imagine my San Antonio soul-part joining hands again

with the parts I left in the Druid Hills;

and, if that happened, what I might actually get done

instead of feeling like a drifter on the run.


(c) 2017 / Frank Saizan Owen / purelandpoetry.com

 

 

 

For more info on the original soundtrack for the film Across The Whipplewash visit the Bandcamp page for Yellowbirds.

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