Poem: Frequency

Did you get my message?
I called you back, you know
Last night during the late show
Thought it was a dream,
Could have been,
but I woke up with the phone in my hand
dripping with ethereal sand

It was like the phone had a mind of its own
an intelligence grown
Your picture appeared on my flashy screen
lighting up the gloom in my type-A room
smiling back at me
popping the door to my heart like I was unshackled, and free
phasing in and out like static
then hearing your longed-for voice
waver, quiver from deep ageless emotion,
rare and all alone,

You know them well.
They are feelings that make us want to die,
then… live again, and die again
(Instead, all I do is raise my arms, my hands held high, and sigh)

The overwhelming drumming (the rhythm of life) is like a Major earthquake
completely off the Richter
that shake us from an ordinary day

I turn, and toss, and shake…
With my eyes closed, I turn the radio dial
and give you a weak smile, like joy is on trial,
racing through the stations to bring you back in sound
pulling the boxy wooden speakers to my ears
shushing long-held buried fears
yet, all I hear is my own rushing heartbeat
struck by the sound,
looking at a mirror and see only the image of scared little me

I pushed the warm blanket off my feet
the spring chill swarmed my toes
then I heard you, small and faraway,
say you love me
caught in the throes
I must have been lucky in the right moment
It must have been you, it must have been me
On a starry night, in my solemn breath
reaching with my skinny forefinger and chubby thumb
In subtlety, in subtlety, in subtlety,
my eyes opened

It was the right here, and the right now
but how?
I must have hit the right frequency

Published by: frankmarquezwritings

I'm a writer, and have been for most of my adult life. Without making this sound like a resume, I wrote creatively in college, dabbling in poetry, short stories and play writing. Later, I became a journalist, public affairs specialist, copy editor and eventually a guy who ran his own newspaper. Now, I'm back to letting my imagination run wild in some new creations including a science-fiction novel. Somehow, I also managed to teach English to high school kids, and roam the battlefields of Afghanistan as a field historian. Field historian may be a misnomer considering all I did was write abstracts summarizing military unit profiles and missions that included hundreds of interviews of troops and contractors in combat. I grew up in a small town called Gering, Nebraska, before escaping to Pomona, California, where I spent my last two years of high school, graduating from Ganesha High School in 1983. I have a Bachelors in English from the University of La Verne (1987), and a Masters in Education from UNLV (2007). In between, I worked for government - the Army and TSA. I served tours in Panama, D.C., and Tokyo, all thanks to a teacher who encouraged me to see the world before I settled down. As hobbies, I run, hike and bicycle long distances. I have also been known to surf and ski. I now live in my hometown after moving back in June 2015. I get to see family on a regular basis, breath fresh air, and not have to ride the D.C. metro or get stuck in traffic. In fact, I ride my bicycle whenever I can. I'm happily married to my wife Lisa, and we watch over a pack of fur babies, our dog Charley, and three cats Spike, Bootsy, and Franky (his shelter name). If you should ever visit me in west Nebraska, be prepared to feast your eyes on paradise.

Categories Uncategorized2 Comments

2 thoughts on “Poem: Frequency”

  1. Frank, thank you. You’ve got something powerful here. Good. Just one or two things irked me a little….. Punctuation at times…
    The phrase “dripping with ethereal sand” — I just didn’t “get…….
    Well, you doubtless know why you wrote it the way you did!
    Keep on writing! Rae


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