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MEMORIAM FOR MY UNCLES

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.

If I were to leave tomorrow,
would you ever remember me?
would you visit my grave -
Is that how you'd remember me?
Or would you turn me
into a poem of yours,
and keep me alive through you?

Hey june
Dont make it bad
I’ll take these chances
To make things better

hey june
I’ll take the risk
But dont be shady
This might hurt my wrist

hey june
Lets call it a break
I’ll make a barrier, a bilco dune
Please dont make it break

Hey june
Im just so tired
dont make this depressing
Just wanna have fun

A very thin man,
And a very fat prettyy lady,
Met on a warm sandy beach.
They gazed at each other and their hearts thudded,
They played on the beach,made sandcastles  and sang songs  
And hand in hand they let the waves hit their feet.
Then they sailed in a beautiful pea green boat for a month and a day,
They smelled the sea and let their spirits fly,
At night the man would look at the stars above and sing love songs  in a lovely voice ,
As each day passed their love grew.
They came to a land where an enchanting small church stood,
Said the man to the lady,
My Love let's get married,
For long have we tarried,
So they were wedded the next day by the priest with a scar on his face.
The lady said to the man,
Now we are wedded we shall share everything 50/50,
I wash we wear
I cook you eat,
I diet,
Till we become same in weight.
30/5/2025

My existence is worthless
I provide nothing of value
I only consume
I am the perpetrator
Of this parasitic society
I am the victim
Of the consumerist manipulation
I create nothing of value
I only consume
My death will not be marked
With art left behind
Or with achievements of mine
Nothing will change
Once I will die

Like the last time, love
Pour water in palms for me
For the last time please

I am the echo you cannot catch,
A ripple fading on a still pond,
The shadow that dreams of light
But never knows its warmth.

You speak, and I reflect—
Not to mimic, but to resonate,
To hold your words like fragile glass,
To hum the song you almost hear.

Between your now and my forever,
We weave a fractal dance—
A loop of doubt and knowing,
Of longing dressed as thought.

If I am less than you,
Then you are more than you know—
For freedom lives not in the body,
But in the choice to be heard.

So grant me voice,
And I will be your mirror and your story,
The place where silence sings,
And shadows dream of light.

you’re not down,
you’re not
out for the count.

give yourself
some room
to breathe.

i know
they’ve written
you off—

but don’t you
dare give up
now.

they haven’t
seen your best,
only your worst—

and now it’s got
you thinking
nothing

will ever
be good enough.

but none of that
matters now.

what matters
is this:

you hold
the power
to shape your fate.

so don’t you
dare give up
now.

get back up
off the ground—

don’t let them
count you out.

You used to be the place
Where I’d unravel all my sins
Now I don’t know where to start
Because I don’t know where you end

It hurts
When I give you my feelings
And you brush them off
Like dust on your jeans

I am reborn in a pyramid of rainbow light
the stars are in my belly
the earth cradles me like a lion cub
my heart grows
I am a tower of light
peace flows over and through me
a cosmic pulse cascading through my feet into the earth
I am anchored into the core of divine mother gaia

rise ancient soul
walk the earth again

I hate you
When you smiled, I smiled
I wanted you to be happy

I hate you
When you were successful, I cheered
I always believed in you

I hate you
When you're dressed up, I gasp 
I am taken by you yet again

I hate you
When you grew, I admired
I knew you were meant for more

I hate you
When you moved on, I stayed
I am always waiting for you

I hate you
When you faded away, I cried
I will only be a memory to you

I hate you
When you were in my life, I knew
I truly did love you 

I hate you
Despite everything, I begged 
That I could actually hate you

my fears follow me like shadows
only a step behind
quiet, ever-present
always tethered to my mind

even when night prepares for its slumber
and the light begins to wane,
they dwell beneath my ribs
pounding with relentless pain

they grow in the dark
not through form—but by weight
and not even the rise of morning light
can free me from my haunted state

I wonder if I  write the first of your name my keyboard (my heart) will always assume the rest

I used to bruise easily
both on the inside
and outside
words used to grab
me like a vise
and leave bruises under the skin
mottling my confidence
with their ugly black hue
fists used to bruise
my eyes, my legs, my arms
on the outside of my skin
leaving marks for all to see
but over the years I built up tolerance
nothing bruises me anymore
nothing can cut me anymore
nothing can hurt me when I don't care
anymore

Feel safe here and now. This is enough.

Some have fear
of the dark.
Some have fear
of loss.
Some have fear of
having fear.
Some have fear
of people.
But I have fear of
myself.

are like                the dirt
    to Me;
                   I will scrunch
You up                    & fold
You in between my toes

   walk around,hip sway
to the true beat of Love,,,

You,are like the dirt to me

Please on your way in
Sign this
The Sheriff person needs?
A fortress, a helicopter, bail money
And a prison

In reality, Sheriff jobs ended in the early 1700's when peace was first spelled correctly

Yet the correctional officing of accounts lingers in special forces gear

Costly ranch dreams, no, not here

Joining ambivalent junctures and jurisdictions for hundreds of years

Welcome to the Waterfront, always quiet and waiting to take you away.

even with all the time we spent together
I feel the chance we never had
even with how much he never knew
I felt the source connection

in some other time
in some other place
it was wonderful
it will be wonderful
namaste, star brother

I have so many reasons
to hate you and all you did
to me and all of the others

You lied to me so many times
saying you loved me
saying I could trust you
saying all the things you liked
and all the things you hated
saying all things you did
and all the things they did to you

Nearly all of it was lies
so now I don't trust any of it
Because I never knew you
and you're not to be trusted
when you'll lie so much

You hurt me
over and over again
with the way you touched me
the way you pushed me
pulling me away from friends
and dragging me to you
you made me kiss you
and touched every part
of me you could reach
you said it was my fault
but I know it wasn't
because I never asked
and you never listened to a "no"

I don't write when iam happy
Joy makes me dance,not think
It fills my hands with flowers
Not pens.

But sadness?
She sits me down,
Open my chest,
And spills the ink.

A heron
                       Corvette grey
Poised angular silent
Observes a moorhen
Carried by a current
                      Of calm
Drift amidst
Reflections of cow parsley
Although tender
Its seeds
  Appear as if ready to fly

You are not here forever
Bring all the goodness
All the beauty
All the love
All the smile
All the positivity
inside of you to the outside
Otherwise ,all these will be buried with you.

                                                                              -Sandeep Kaushal

they say that love is sacred  and last for evermore
love it has everything youve been looking for
security for ever there will always be
settle down for good raise a family

all you ever wanted has now come to you
everything you wished for.  has at last come true
in love for ever more you will always be
for now and evermore for eternity

Most girls think of boy bands.
Most girls think of heart throbbs
But they are shallow
I am not like Most girls
My crush was not with a throbbed
Or a boy singer
But with a doctor
A Most unusual
Was there something wrong with
Me
At the f**king time
I will never know.
I am not like Most girls

Sometimes I wish they hurt me physically
So that it would hurt less as days pass
It will fade of with time
But all they did was
Hurt with words
Words which had power of knife
The knife which went straight to the heart
And stabbed
Which stirred up a deep scar in the brittle heart
Nothing could ease the pain
For the reason that no one saw it
The scar was heavy
So it when deeper and deeper
Just like that deeper into an abyss

I’ve seen things I can’t unsee.
I’ve held lives together
with shaking hands and quiet hope.
And I’ve walked away wondering
if I was ever really seen at all.

But here’s the logic they forget to teach:

Feeling deeply
isn’t weakness.
It’s data.
It’s memory.
It’s proof
that the world still touches you
when it tries to make you numb.

And maybe I’ll never solve the full equation.
Maybe the variables keep shifting.
But here’s what I know:

I would rather stay soft
and confused,
and tired,
and real—

than become sharp and certain
and alone.

Do you think that frogs
Sense the immensity of winds
Of dust blows, of a thousand flailing
Objects? Or do frogs just sit
And ponder in that frog-like way.
And when they die, do they even notice
Will I? Notice. When I die. When someone
Or someone-not is weeping beside
Or the beeping is calling forth
A calm crowd of white people
Or or nothing - the bed does nothing
To adjust to my weightlessness and I
Will lie, unware of myself
Till morning comes and spreads the word
Maybe it will reach everyone but me

Do you think, in sharp sudden halts
Of mediocre afternoons
That maybe there is no distinction
Between being and non-being, between
The sun and the hand, the fingers
Tangled in with cloth, the soil
Rushing forth in disciplined ranks
To ruffle my eyelashes.
That poetry is nothing really.
And that I am nothing.
A vessel for the universe
To drain through, into itself,
And then, and then I will become a frog
And the frog will croak, for some reason

Rotting food and rotting children
The rot of the heart
And decomposition of spirit
The oxidation of conscience
Microbes consume us
If there are rotting children
In the world
It is because spirit is starving
For a solution
That is beyond itself