Poetry: David Francis

David Francis has produced six music albums, one of poetry, "Always/Far," a chapbook of lyrics and drawings, and "Poems from Argentina" (Kelsay Books).
He has written and directed the films "Village Folksinger" (2013) and "Memory Journey" (2018).  His poems and short stories have appeared in a number of journals and anthologies.
www.davidfrancismusic.com

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Heart Song

She turned so soft and so weak

like a feather, fallen,

with a pulse, so to speak,

as when we were together

but floating from that peak

***

Dawning

My thoughts are racing

like the shadows of birds

through the light on the facades

The texture of my mind

so brilliantly at odds

with the light on the facades

Interrupted sleep

cuts me like glass shards

from the light on the facades

***

Guadalajara

Beautiful faces

meant for a moment

they look at you, and mean to look

at you too

Old men squinting

with eyes seeming not to see

how many have you seen

have you been blinded

Some pretending, some candid

as brief as a skunk stink

or a rose petal scent

they strike and leave you

***

Song

Night

when will I meet someone?

Night

you know I met someone

but that was long ago

Night

the chinks through the trees

the street-lit road

Night

faint chimes from off a porch

on the roofs a faint blue-glow

Night

the window unit hums

on the broad side of sleep

Night

the garden is so still

and then the night birds sing

Night

with shadow-softened shores

an alley seems to flow

Night

among the telephone wires

only a few stars show

Night

my question is walked off.

***

Blessed Night

The waitress knows I’m waiting

for someone

so she leaves me alone.

I asked for the phone

and I said: ‘The waitress

told me I could use the phone,’

and grudgingly the manager

pointed: after, sat

staring me down.

Now I watch my reflection

in the front window glass,

hardly noticing the cars.

I’m waiting for my emotions

to calm down

so I can sleep

until the morning

with a queasy stomach

and a useless brain.

Impossible!

I don’t care what shape

I’m in tomorrow

as long as I can love

for one minute!

Did she say Yes? She did.

There’s a strange aura

in the restaurant:

there’s a light in my eyes.

Can everyone see it? I can.

I live with this secret

that keeps me alive.

Now it’s for the night

to drag on to its denouement

like a passionate story.

I heard a voice

that moved me to this:

and the deserted night

is full somehow.

***

Setu, September 2020