Biography
Whereas (linked) Myspace is the place for all my collection chronologically, here on WOL I try to be topical and, thus, my blogs, sometimes, offer poetic responses to the news of the day - plus others' comments.
Here's THE BLURB from my free collection WALKABOUTS: TRAVELS AND CONCLUSIONS IN VERSE (above links)...
"ABOUT THE POET AND THE POETRY: David Franks was born and, after a long time away, lives in England. The four-part collection has travels and conclusions, in poems and songs, from his nomadic first-thirty-six years. The experience behind the verse includes shoestring travel through about forty countries, A-grade junior sport, a B.A. in humanities, four technical certificates in manufacturing, plus several years on the shopfloor. The style is mostly direct; and the substance informative, humorous and didactic."
(Also a folk and Christian musician, with one c.d., so far, CHANTS FROM WALKABOUTS - for details and to hear me, again, please use above links.)
Samples
Poem 187 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (above links): A SOUTH SHIELDS WALKABOUT - AUTUMN 2001 (Also my AUDIO SAMPLE, above)
Out of the museum-and-gallery
(Wiser on Cookson and the local way),
Down Ocean Road with, to the right of me,
Its eateries and, left, neat places to stay;
Before, on either side, Marine Parks -
The southern-one a most beautiful place,
Teeming with moorhens, swans, grebes and mallards
In a small lake at a scenic-hill’s base.
Then (holding chips from the parade’s cafe
And, thus, a flock of gulls squawking above)
Onto the South Pier I made my way:
Seeing seaweed over rocks - like a glove -
And high-and-dry sands held from transgression
By growth of grass and the weaving of wood,
Plus, in the dim light of a sleepy sun,
Fishing boats returning to Tynemouth’s hood.
(C) David Franks 2003
After you've finished here, you may like to hear this lay/poem-come-song on myspace.com/walkaboutsverse -
2 of 230, WalkaboutsVerse (above links): WALKABOUT WITH MY PEN
Once drove an old sedan, up north,
From a place in Sydney to Cairns;
Then to Kuranda I went forth,
By train, to look without set plans.
I browsed through the trendy market,
With fresh fruits of tropical kind;
Walked to the creek through lush thicket -
Nature’s hand giving peace of mind.
I dined in a scenic cafe;
Then, outside, as I wrote for yen,
Some passing Kooris called-out: “Hey,
You go walkabout with your pen.”
Request or question, I don’t know -
Assured voices, elderly men.
That’s now several years ago,
And I’ve seen the world - with my pen.
(C) David Franks 2003
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Last blog entry
Posted on Wednesday 10th March 2010 11:24 am
In North-East England...
Poem 196 of 230: BLYTH - AUTUMN 2002
After a day
Of moulding work,
I made my way
To Blyth's centre,
Where windmills play
Near the staithes,
And where one may
Dine or choose at
The Art Cafe.
(C) David Franks 2003
From http://blogs.myspace.com/walkaboutsverse (e-book)
Or http://walkaboutsverse.webs.com (e-scroll)
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Isobel
Wed 28th Oct 2009 17:25
Thank you muchly David - would rather be responsible for that than a new Ice Age....
Isobel x