the gamma wave begins

I never thought that I would start a poetry blog, but once I added my friend Shawna to my Facebook page and saw a certain post, I knew it was all over.

She was looking for poets to promote.  I have always shied away from sharing poems online, for fear of having them poached.  But perhaps this is the first step down an entirely different road than I had envisioned for myself before this moment.

So this will be the place where I will share poetry online.  I have another blog I (very) occasionally post to called Page, Stage & Rage, which I use for my commentaries and other such musings.  But this blog is all about the creative aspect.  Shawna, eat your heart out!

If people read this stuff and like what they see, please feel free to drop me a line at cytoinfo at cytopoetics dot ca or leave a (moderated) comment on the page.  I hope you enjoy what you read!

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Cave-Speak

caves generally don’t have a positive connotation
they too often remind people of dankness

musty moist mouldy environs
but in the cave inside me there is nothing but sunshine
and happiness and lush greenery
for this cave is but a repository for my joy
a nurturing place where creativity gives birth to art

i admit that meeting you
has opened up this new happy place
where the best parts of me want to take up residence
create odes to you that melt glaciers
and speak a truth that stirs the blood
comb over the deserts with a raking of our voices
and cause birds to harmonize with the lilt
of music i hear in your laughter

each pulse is a rhythmic response to a primal connection
that pierces my consciousness when i think of you

and i feel that though you are far away
my heartbeat falls into simpatico with yours in those moments
very similar to the first time we met
when a familiarity overtook me and you fit me
like the most comfortable shoes i’ve ever owned
that have taken me through the darkest jungles
over the driest riverbeds and rockiest cliffsides
and carried me as if through very little effort
into the satisfying sweltering heat of your breath on my cheek
saying little more than “hello” but
communicating on a level that

exceeds normal human ability to express
through mere flimsy vocal symbols we call words

so as i wrap my tongue around a phrase that tries to capture
your essence i reach back into my cave of joy
pluck a beautiful flower from the tapestry of my expression
place it against your ear and smile
and trust that vibrations will transmit what i’m saying
even though not a single word parts my lips for you to hear.

© A. Gregory Frankson, 2010.  All rights reserved.

Laughing in Text

at me
you laugh
as i type in one hundred and sixty word bursts
we exchange like lungs swap molecules
from blood into air and from sky into body

i feel like Chris Rock
just not as vulgar or political
when i text you

i smile when i see what you write
shorthand by slender fingers
anointing my eyes with phrases
on a phone you palm
like a carried basketball

my fingers fly
across the keypad on my BlackBerry
as i march across a pasture to work
military precision in my timing
as digits freeze solid while my thoughts
mesh with the melting sensation
in my chest at the fact
you engage me this way

so when numb fingers
pull back on the door handle
i stand as open as
the entrance to my office tower

i realize in that moment
the messages i type
in one hundred and sixty word bursts
show me what happiness is possible
one hundred percent of the time
sixty minutes of every hour

and then once more
you laugh
at me.

© A. Gregory Frankson, 2011.  All rights reserved.

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