The Poetry of Jay Frankston

We published the poetry of Jay Frankston

BIO:  
 
Jay Frankston (wlp@mcn.org) was raised in Paris. Narrowly escaping the Holocaust, he came to the United States in 1942, became a lawyer, and practiced on his own in New York for nearly 20 years, reaching the top of his profession and sculpting and writing at the same time. In 1972 he gave up law and New York and moved himself and his family to Northern California, where he became a teacher and continued to sculpt and write. He is the author of several books and of a true tale entitled “A Christmas Story” which was published in New York, condensed in Reader’s Digest, translated into 15 languages, and called a Christmas classic by many reviewers. El Sereno, his latest novel, is a short epic set in Spain with authentic historical background. It took 10 years and two trips to Madrid to

GOD KISSED ME

God kissed me when I was born.

Of course I don’t remember

but it gave me life and made me whole.

He sent me out into this world

confused, without a map,

without a compass or a sense of direction.

And I struggled through the maze

feeling my oats along the way,

bouncing back and forth

between what God gave me

and what the world wanted of me.

I played the game and rolled the dice

but I didn’t know the rules.

Now that the game is almost over

I find my winnings greater than my losses

and see God at the end of the line

waiting to congratulate me

on having run the course

and kiss me again on the way out. 

  Goodby!

GOD has left the premises.

He has moved to another galaxy.

He left a note for us on the mantelpiece.

I’ll read it to you:

GOODBY! I’m leaving.

I am really disappointed in you.

I gave you a world full of beauty,

with sunsets and dawns, clouds and stars,

flowers and butterflies, colors and sound.

And what have you done with my gifts?

You’ve become greedy. 

You are obsessed with your possessions

always wanting more.

You feel innocent and righteous

but you know what you must do

and you don’t do it.

And you know what you mustn’t do

and you do it.

You ignore the poor,

the sick and the downtrodden. 

You make excuses for yourself.

“I need the job”. “I have a mortgage to pay”.

“I’m too busy” or “I haven’t got the time”.

You manage to blame “them” for all your ills.

“Them”, the politicians, the corporations,

the blacks, the Jews and Wall street.

The other fellow in any case.

And you are blind to your participation.

You spoil the air you breathe

and defecate in your own garden.

You travel far and wide

to massacre women and children

and blame me for not stopping you.

You wreck havoc upon the world

and ask me for help in restoring some order

from your chaos.

Goodby! I’ve lost faith in you.

If you manage to survive your abuses,

if you come to your senses

before it is too late,

I may return to your world

and bring back the Hope

that you have squandered.