(extinction of useless lights) … Night Approaches Then (poem)

by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment on (extinction of useless lights) … Night Approaches Then (poem)

Just before Christmas there was one last Open Link Night for 2025 at dVerse Poets and it was hosted by Grace. At open link night you can link any poem you would like or you can respond to a mini prompt offered.

The mini prompt for this night was for the image below,  “Extinction of Useless Lights” by Yves Tanguy (1927) …

  1. Use the image as a muse for your poem. Write an ekphrastic poem (a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art).
  2. Or use the title of the image as a title or part of your poem: Extinction of Useless Lights.

But I’m just coming about the prompt now as I knew dVerse was taking a break for the holidays so I hadn’t checked in and, though I obviously missed the deadline for submitting with all the others, I still wanted to do something with it.

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(extinction of useless lights) … Night Approaches Then

The sun cast shadows

in its decline

stretched to the east as if calling

to the shapes of souls

he helped to exist

while he could

to not linger long

in the waste

or to try hide in the bramble

as it would offer no haven

from the heaven’s judgement

or angry devils from the depths

reeling in the sky like a kite forced back to earth

pulling darkness behind

until the sun passed away

trying as he may

and the shapes,

the souls,

lost their day

to night

I Opened My Mouth And The Devil’s Voice Fell Out (There’s Somethin’ Goin’ Around)

by Stephen J Frankenberry3 Comments on I Opened My Mouth And The Devil’s Voice Fell Out (There’s Somethin’ Goin’ Around)

Note/Warning: Overwriting fun

So on a recent Monday I got up with a reluctant sigh, a more reluctant sigh than the usual as I hadn’t slept all that well all weekend, more not “all that well” than said usual, whispered (grunted) my normals to Cricket and Bella and stood up (yay, I did it again, and still above ground too … bonus!!) and went about my morning business. Trudge upstairs with a towel, wave to my Sister’s gang, Arthur, Saphira and Rikki the Raspy, grab a shower and then trudge back downstairs though a bit more pleasant for the smells now for any possible downwind passerby.

Then …

  • finish drying
  • put underwear on while standing, something I am very proud these days that I am still able to accomplish without losing my balance and almost toppling over, though that doesn’t include the occasional getting your first foot stuck in them as that’s an any days, any age possibility and well, slapstick of new one legged dance moves can be funny (somebody call the Tik Tok, just speak Billionair-ese and add a Chinese accent – I’ve hit on a possible craze) sweatpants and sneakers next that I have already thrown on the bed to wait for me which are then applied in an appropriate manner that won’t garner any strange looks at the convenience store or phone calls to HR after I get to work.
  • rinsing cat bowls at the utility sink in the laundry room then (don’t judge … the paint stains are pretty old) and picking a food choice from atop my small fridge cache of cat food cans for the girls, eventually tapping one and then opening it under Bella’s nose to make sure it passes the appropriately stinky enough for cats cat approval test which is usually a once quick lip smacking Bella tongue which will never cease to make me smile, even on rough mornings, and then it’s cat noses down.
  • almost done, dressed, heavy hoodie on and then grab my phone for one of two things, neither of which, by the way, are to check for texts or emails or social media posts or anything of the sort that may have come from the outside world while I was sleeping poorly or maybe something I had missed (though, believe me, whatever it may be, if so, it definitely wasn’t “missed”).

There isn’t really any single thing that I care enough about, other than my Sis and the gang, that I will find it necessary to start my day by checking to see if it reached out or just to see what it was doing in its little corner of the world. Hell, it could even actually be something that I may need to be concerned with and needs to be addressed but no one needs THAT to start the day right? Waaaay too many possibilities. Let me at least get to the car so I can start cursing at people, you know, warm up a bit to the day before I need to begin “dealing” with shit, maybe even its (yours).

No, I grab my phone for two things. One, to re-turn on the strips of LED lights that outline this basement room of mine, something nephew Matt put up when he and Jake were younger and this basement was their game room. It’s pretty cool, to tell ya the truth, with so many color choices and brightness settings, that I wonder how I ever lived without them before, like I could have perpetually been the twelve or so year old Matt when he first strung them about.

Two, hit the little microphone and ask Google lady to tell me what the forecast is going to be for today, on this morning, but I was totally unprepared for the voice that would fall out of my face to ask the question. There almost seemed to be a hesitation to google ladies response and then an almost wary “the forecast today is calling for skin melting temps in the mid millions, and rivers of fire and rains of molten lava … Sir”

Whoa!!! What the fuck? I could almost swear I wasn’t possessed when I turned off Matt’s cool LED lights last night before I hit the rack as the voice I had, or didn’t have, didn’t even sound human.

Now, I have had some interesting voices over the years that usually come with being the result of vice or are an indicator of a soon to be sick that have sounded pretty rough, there have even been times where I actually was possessed and the voice could be a bit otherworldly and menacing but things were always worked out, trades were made, but nothing like this. No, this was unlike any other sound that had ever fallen out of my face and probably explains why the wary sounding Google lady gave me a forecast for Hell and even called me “Sir”. If for nothing else, I have a new AI acolyte (and one not regulated at the state level) but this was even worse than when Peter Frampton and other bands discovered the vocoder back in the 70’s.

Then the phone call came to tell me to expect a letter.

A cease and desist phone call telling me to expect a cease and desist letter, and a one trying to sound very legal-like but really just sounded like a guy named Vinny, warning me that if I continued to use the voice that I only now just discovered I possessed, was seemingly possessed by, that the legal ramifications would be harsh and that the somewhat equitable trades, like those in the past just wouldn’t be enough this time. No, there would be no swaps now. No future children would be accepted, no souls would be saved even at the expense of my own (though we did have a spirted, however brief, discussion as to this whole “soul” concept, though their hard cut definition definitely topped my more existential one).

Oh, and my kneecaps would probably find themselves to be of issue

I just …

dyyyyyyyyooooooo555555555555555555555555555555555555tttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttuuuuuuuuu7777777777777777777777777777777777777777777721qqe4444444444444444411111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111113777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777

(Cricket!! Not now kid!! Bad timing … talking to the Devil’s people at the moment!)

… deferred, apologized and promised that I had no real intention of impersonating the devil himself. It did though make me rather useless for the day in my job as a radio guy as using my voice is kind of a prerequisite for the job.

Eventually my actual voice started to return a few days later and I was able to get back to things, though with lesser voice in hand and record, though quite raspilly, a radio show that I do with a couple of dear friend co-hosts and have for years now, the early portion of which did revolve around my suspected possessed voice and possibly just attributing it to being part of the winter season and the sniffles and colds that can come, though a bit extreme.

“Frankenberry” said one co-host “The Devil falling out of your mouth, that voice?”

… and here it came

“It’s been goin’ around”

Oh, son of a bitch!

Seems no matter the situation, no matter the ailment, no matter the no matter …

“Hey, you sound a little rough”

“Yeah, a bit of a cold thing maybe”

“Its been goin’ around”

“Seems my allergies are acting up”

“Yeah, pollen, it’s Spring, it’s been goin’ around”

“Hey did you hear Bill lost his leg in a car accident?

“Yeah, lost limbs, it’s been goin’ around”

“It was a Big Bang and shit collided in just the right way and there was a primordial thing with bellies and tails onto a shore on a new planet in its new cosmos”

“Yeah, that’s been goin’ around”

“Been channeling the devil’s voice lately”

“Yeah, it’s been goin’ around”

… and then suddenly I had the measles and small pox and polio all of which were “goin’ around” and RFK Jr laughed creepily and raspy-like noting that we could friends in voice and also just because I wanted to get a dig in at RFK Jr and, by extension, this whole dumb ass world we live in right now.

The dumb?

Yeah, it’s been goin’ around …

So?

Yeah, that’s all I got.

Good luck though, shit’s been goin’ around.

Words of the Year (poem)

by Stephen J FrankenberryLeave a Comment on Words of the Year (poem)

Another bit of a stream and to the latest words of the year …

Mirriam Webster – Slop

Oxford – Rage bait

Dictionary dot com – 6-7

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Words of the Year

The words of the year explain themselves clear

according to dictionaries that steer

you in direction

backwards

to remind

forward

of the slop of illusion

add to confusion

as that is the way

these days

to keep you in time

in doomsday clock line

but wish this wasn’t such

a day

to bait rage

rage bait

as you weren’t all that angry before

you thought

but now find the children

could answer questions that are maybe 6-7 tall

instead

or

of no height at all

or

even just 6-7

trying to remind that you just don’t get it

but

maybe they will

and can

answer the call

maybe even at 6-7

some all

of nothing

or something

that you can’t

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Patrick (traditional Catmis Song)

by Stephen J Frankenberry2 Comments on It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Patrick (traditional Catmis Song)

In a recent Facebook post of a bit of good news on my front and amid a number of replies I got one from an old friend, Linda, who, after commenting on said post, added that her husband has been singing “one of my greatest hits” recently and I immediately realized that, shit, I’m a bit late on reposting this “one of my greatest hits” that Linda’s husband has been singing.

Now, the one of my greatest hits? It’s a Christmas tune about their cat Patrick that I will be posting now, all holiday tradition-like, for the fourth year in a row.

Quick history:

  • Linda posts picture of cat Patrick next to Christmas ornaments four Christmas’s ago with the caption “It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick”
  • I see post and immediately start singing, in my head, the beginning of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” except with cat Patrick instead and then can’t stop until I’ve written new, Patrick-centric, cat-centric lyrics for the whole thing. I then respond to Linda with “Ok, so you do know that dropping “It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick” is like dropping a gauntlet full of beer and cat nip to a to a crazy cat lady guy who likes to do this sort of thing right?” followed by posting the new lyrics and Bing Crosby’s video of the actual song for her to follow along with
  • Linda is happy. Responds with a “Wow”, an “AWESOME”, a number of exclamation points and even a Wayne and Garth “We are not worthy!” GIF
  • I am happy … but only for like 5 minutes as I know I’m not done, can’t be done. I search out an instrumental of “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” and take that with me into my studio at work and then send home the pieces to mix with maybe a little Christmas production magic involved
  • Four years later Linda’s husband is singing the tune during the season in anticipation, Linda tells me that Patrick (and his tail Sebastian – apparently it is its own being entirely) are also waiting and I get to enjoy, again, one of the best unintentional gifts I have ever unintentionally gotten someone. Yay! Go me!! hehehehe

It’s fun, it’s catly and it’s Christmassy.

’nuff said.

Cheers to you Linda and your fella and to you Patrick (and Sebastian) as always, you damn good looking Christmas cat … and tail.

‘Tis the season Patrick.

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Patrick

It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick

Everywhere Pat goes

Take a look in his snug cat bed laying his Patrick head

With maybe a mouse or two under his toes

. 

It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick

Fur on every rug

Till the monster is need brought out

To suck away all hair’s clout

While Patrick runs no doubt

.

An extra can can of food or some cat nip for mood

Is his wish as any cat would

Ball with a bell and a knock it to hell

Is new wish across some hardwood

.

And Mom and Dad do funny dance to not step on cat’s pants

.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick

Everywhere Pat goes

. 

There’s a tree that is soon to rise

Each branch a new cat prize

The hanging kind just waiting for a fall

.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick

Snoozing underneath

And what brings that slumber best

Are the lights not put to test

With Christmas cats now at rest

.

(break)

.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Patrick

Runnin’ cross the floor

To every cat’s Christmas dream

And the presents that will be

Box torn paper all a-skew

.

Sure it’s Patrick once more … time to puke, time to puke it’s Patrick’s time to puke.

mmm … mmm

Shared

by Stephen J Frankenberry5 Comments on Shared

New Quadrille prompt at dVerse Poets this week, and one more for the year, this one from Mish and the word here is “Hibernate”

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Shared

Cricket the Cat can trouble

sleep

too with me

not sure which causes the other

if at all

possibly

blind antsy cat angst  

or my equal dreading closed eye finds  

shared

only to hold her to my chest

to hibernate together

closer

in kind

The Holiday Postcard Tableau (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry2 Comments on The Holiday Postcard Tableau (poem)

The prompt this time here was from Laura and of a tableau.

And our tableau has a fixed poetry style entitled The Tableau – created by Emily Romano in October of 2008

Poetry Style:

  • 1 or more verses
  • 6 lines per verse
  • 5 beats/syllables per line

Poetry Rules:

  • title should contain the word ‘tableau’
  • poem should aim to be pictorial
  • no rhyme scheme

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The Holiday Postcard Tableau

Everyone cheesed

with wide Cheshire grins

I poked a finger

in sister’s shoulder

from back of the car

in a living room

.

Mom glared with a wink

pushing us to one

together with hands

directing movie’s

still photos to spend

just the right moment

.

One to send to Aunts

or friends reconnect

once a year to see

in perfect sweaters

or even a tie

with broad smiles us we

.

It’s tall mantle framed

for a cat to skirt

ginger steps ’round smiles

for aunts miles away

to remind us that

we had such a day

Sweat Pants (poem)

by Stephen J Frankenberry6 Comments on Sweat Pants (poem)

Lillian had a prompt at dVerse Poets earlier this week titled “Come Sew With Me … Sort Of …” where she gave a wonderful little glimpse into some of her life’s days and her family and how a great deal of these days were impacted by her sewing machine.

Her prompt then, in relation to that (in the above link), was to ask folks to write a poem that incorporates one or more of the sewing terms she listed in said link. 

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Sweat Pants

Years have longed me

to try and seem even a glimpse of

pant seams unstretched

back to

younger ones

before I longed

older years to be more like those

maybe if I start walking

with intent

sit up more than just sitting up

being victory enough

of still breathing we talk

joke

but so buttonholes on jeans won’t mock

my pinch-skin attempts

tell me they won’t tell if I don’t of an open ease hid with a belt

and legs won’t need hemmed or folded

recall (ing)

when I was tall (er)

two inches closer to the clouds

above now that made me more of a looker

I’m sure

in those younger years

but adjust then to these older ones

instead

and think,

well

who don’t like sweat pants?

Some Tunes ‘n That (song links compiled in one, easy convenient post)

by Stephen J Frankenberry2 Comments on Some Tunes ‘n That (song links compiled in one, easy convenient post)

Note: How to overwrite taking a day off.

Once a month comes once a month, it’s pretty regular as once a months go, as long as calendars don’t try to fuck with me and suddenly change cats out of time on my wall … (hey wait, when the hell did that meowing tabby suddenly turn into a yawning gray long hair?) but once a month means that I am takin’ Monday off. And when I do, take this once monthly, it can sometimes involve a new “tune” …

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7

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000k,lb;l;l;l;l;lpppppppppppppppppppppppppppp(L8kd

(sorry, that was Cricket in case you were curious, always reminding that she is a part of this process, blind keyboard stepping right through, though her singing voice definitely can leave a bit to be desired … but so with ya on the solitary 7 my friend … I know huh? Nope, don’t get me started)

… and when that is the case, a new tune, I will take my time that often then involves me working said tune, though it has been a little while for this as we live in dire times, free thought not really being all that much of a thing these days so you must be careful, but I will work it.

Well I did work a new thing this Friday and with that, that new tune I thought, as I have done before, to put a few things into one easy, convenient post as once I am in song mode I am just there.

So, with links to their posts, I boogie woogie here, I channel Bob Dylan, there’s a new one with a big top soundtrack, I lament the white supremacy that seems to, so sadly, be a thing these days, from the top on down, I Cheap trick some need to conform, I rail on tax cuts ala the Beatles, and the always GOP minority rule via Tears for Fears.

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God Made Trump – God: “Yeah, That Was In Error” (boogie woogie song revision)

A breathless boogie woogie thing

“Boogie Party” Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/

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Gonna Wanna Rule Somebody

(To Bob Dylan’s Gotta Serve Somebody)

//////////////////////////////////////////

Trump Circus Two

(to a little circus sounding bed with “circus” being most apropos these days)

//////////////////////////////////////////

One White Leads To Another

(To The Fixx “One Thing Leads To Another”)

White supremacy, proud virtue of this administration

//////////////////////////////////////////

We Want You To Be We

(to Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me”)

To the GOP who feel they’re somehow being persecuted in their beliefs by not be allowed to dictate how everyone else lives

//////////////////////////////////////////

Baby, it’s a Tax Scam

(to the Beatles “Baby You’re A Rich Man”)

Yeah, this one is obvious

////////////////////////////////////////

Minority Rule

(to Tears For Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”)

Popcorn anyone?

Trump Circus Two (song)

by Stephen J Frankenberry3 Comments on Trump Circus Two (song)

I’ve written of this before (so feel free to heavy sigh and skip off now while you can) but one of the main tools for me in my job (I’m a production guy) is a production music site I use on an almost daily basis to find music beds for commercials that I will maybe voice or, if not, still produce.

But in my searching, though, for a tune that seems to work for whatever spot is at hand I will come across beds that I like, beds that I can even think that I might like to write some lyrics to and have a bit of fun with at another time, something I have done on occasion because Hey? Who don’t imagine themselves to possibly be a rock star right? I know, that’s silly but still, for me, it’s always been just another avenue for creating and also to do that bit of rock star wannabe “singing” (“singing” definitely in quotes here but, being a production guy, I can work a little magic on the me sing end).

But, if you know this me here in the Attic, you also know that I have done quite a lot of parody tunes over the last 8 or so years, “parody” in name only though as they ain’t silly, mostly those of a political type to try and get some genuinely angry angers and frustrations out and make needed points (and lord knows there are a lot of those and needs of such, especially now) as, years ago, I realized, no matter how well written or compelling a straight up opinion piece of mine might be no one was ever going to read it. Period. Not even me back to me.

But? If I put it to a tune? Well …

So then to this and the updates …

A couple of years ago I came across this music bed that had a real carnival, circus kind of feel to it and well, Carnival? Circus? Yeah, that feel worked pretty well for anything GOP then or now (always does) and James Comer specifically and his fruitless investigations into the Biden Crime Family Syndicate, and his needed distraction from true crime family syndicates.  

I then revisited it earlier this year as, with this administration, Circus never really goes out of style.

And then to a now, another revisit …

Trump Circus Two

The Trump Circus big tops cabinet meetings now

While its members try one up each other how

They are bestest at these lapdog bestest tests

A circle’s turn jerk him from rest

.

Don nods approval or he simply just nods

Drifting to dreams of nobels or birthday cards

Wondering any King ever worked so damn hard

To nod all humble while he’s viewed as a god

.

Such blessed … circumstance

.

And he always

Keeps all on point

Of just how great he is

.

Reminds all around

For the camera’s now

Best ever in Prez Biz

.

This dog and pony show it never gets old

Spin propaganda to keep all in the fold

The only real truths are the lies fascists weave

Fake news real truth they call deceit

.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

.

The Trump Circus keeps going round and round and round

Where lipsticked sentiments are found

.

They have though now dropped true governing ball

As we wait some golden age apparently one on hold

But it’s happenin’ right now is what we’re all being told

Don’t believe your eyes or pockets

You’re all better than days of old

.

The Trump Circus big tops everywhere and Hell now

As fishing boats keep blowing up, some twice now

But hurricanes have stopped at at his seeming hand

Protecting all the others at sea and at land

Let Them Eat Grapes (post)

by Stephen J Frankenberry3 Comments on Let Them Eat Grapes (post)

Decided tonight to not do any writing after bad attempts at forcing something (yes, fully aware of the now current irony here) and, instead, try to just keep to a normal, human, regular ol’ me schedule on a Friday for once and just pretend that it’s like any other night during the week and NOT a finally reached weekend to stay up to all hours like I’m reliving some little kid fantasy of being allowed to not have to go to bed all normal and such with no adult supervision or guardrails and eating nothing but candy, even though I AM an adult (at least as I’ve been told on occasion and that a birth certificate will attest) and could and should admonish myself and hold the guardrails up on my own but too often don’t (there was actually and admittedly a little candy involved … but hey, it was dark chocolate which is better right?).  

Last weekend kind of put this in some stark perspective when I realized on Sunday morning, around 9a, that I hadn’t been to bed yet, since Friday when I got up for the day, though I’m sure I nodded off at some point in my somewhat recently bought sleek and cool, tall backed computer chair holding the napping torch for old men everywhere who fall asleep in chairs but, as said old man, I just can’t do that shit any longer. Well, I can, but just not terribly well and when Beck, earlier tonight, as we did of bit of catching up on a day and a week, an eventful one, and a one where I was sitting in a rocking chair, I know huh? told me that I can start to sound a bit silly and punch drunk about half way through a weekend’s lack of sleep and I realized enough is enough.

So, I decided to just stick to my usual weeknight schedule on this Friday. Come home, say Hi to Beck and Mr Matt (nephew) and the Arthur and the Saphira and the Rikki (cats), give a “Hello” shout down the stairs to my Bella and the Cricket (also cats) while moving rather quicky to the bathroom for a pee (it was a longer ride home than usual tonight with some snow that involved a long brush and a grabbing of gloves before I could drive, so peeing was of the utmost importance, the first thing, a priority, as that bit of extra time on the road can really get ya as an old dude) get some dinner in order for the girls and then for me, look at a few things in the Attic, some new likes and views and comments, thanks everyone, while Cricket waits to share my dinner, something she will remind of in meowling impatience if I am moving too slow for her liking on some nights, plus I know, she knew, that I had some pasta tonight … she could smell it … a slice of ziti ala vodka pizza from earlier and the Cricket, well she just LOVES herself some pasta.

Then it was search for a something to watch, continue some recent new found shows maybe, “Pluribus” or “Down Cemetery Road”, look at the texts I send to myself during the week for new watch ideas, possibly a movie, or just scroll through all the possibilities without really deciding on anything, just preview a bunch of trailers which, eventually, can prove to be just like I had taken the time to watch an actual movie.

I did eventually decide on something though, “The Legend of Ochi”, which I had been eyeing for a while, for a well spent 5 dollar rental, which was a story of unintentionally befriending some perceived enemy but one that’s really cute with big ears and one we’ve seen many times over but had Willem Dafoe and Emily Watson and Finn Wolfhard from “Stranger Things” and a wonderful young actress I didn’t know and a really cool, really cute, big eared little furry fella I just mentioned with even bigger emotive eyes and a Momma just waiting for and dearly missing him.

This garnered some genuine welling up from me at the end, eye dabbing with the bottom of my T-shirt, but not in a bad way, though there were some harrowing moments and I thought “Well done Me. You spent almost a movie’s length worth watching trailers and then also watched a full movie (after its trailer – twice) and still kept in line, almost, with a regular night during the week”.  

But then, at the end of “The Legend of Ochi” and, again, some eyes dabbed with the bottom of a t-shirt, I went to my little half fridge for a seltzer and a beer and I noticed the remainders of a bag of grapes that I had brought home with me, from my other little fridge, the one under my desk at work and I said to myself “Let them eat Grapes”

Then I was fucked.

Now I had to get up and expand on “Let them eat grapes” and I had been doing so well.

And this was the dumbest of shit. I mean who the hell is going to say “Let them eat grapes?” Who is possibly going to take that as some dismissive thing, as it sounded in my head, like Marie-Antoinette and some shit about cake (which didn’t really work out all that well for her if embellished, somewhat fictional history recalls) but “Let them eat Grapes?”

Hell Steve, who don’t like grapes?

I mean if I am some sort of disdainful aristocrat basically telling you to fuck off “Let them eat grapes” would be a real head scratcher right?

Let them eat grapes and let them have universal health care and let them shorten the divide between the have’s and the have nots and let them feel safe?

Yeah, surely some correlations to our current here but I ain’t goin’ there, not right now at least. That’ll just make me angry.

So, “Let them eat grapes” which I did by the way, as I try to be a bit healthier with my snack choices these days but only after some dark chocolate of course.