Extremely interesting the way you introduce your life, Frank, I also liked
Stuart's shy entrance, elegant D.B's presentation, depressed D.C.'s notice,
excellent C.J.'s ludic attitude, and that boastful zapata moustache.. of
david, the sad song of Michael,
I also want to think of something, let's see...
a

> Son of the 14th child born to a West Texas farm tilled by couple eloped
from
> Hardin County, Tennessee, cousins, runaways hunted by grandma's Pa, who,
on final
> discovery after some years search, a farm house full of children high
tailed back
> to Tennessee.
>
> Photograph of Mom & Dad outside Santa Barbara, CA, Mission 1940s she 16,
all five
> feet one inch wrapped in fur; him five feet eleven sharply creased US Army
> uniform, high cheek bones, Cherokee eyes...handsome couple.
>
> Born fourth of five children, Battle Creek, Michigan, 1949. Moved to
California,
> Mom & kids lived with grandparents mother's side when Dad went to Korea.
I'm told
> when we went to the train station to meet Dad on his return two years
later that I
> walked up to a Black Porter, noting he wore a uniform, and asked if he was
my Dad.
> It would be like that much the rest of my life:
> (O, father, I fear, the absent years
>  in mansions of manic depression)
>
> Lived in Texas, Virginia, Japan, and up and down California again, moving
every
> couple years even just house to house across town. Went to eight different
schools
> before ninth grade amazingly completing all four years of high school in
one
> place. Tenth grade English teacher, Kelly Bernard, read poetry aloud in
class
> (e.e. cummings, Ginsberg, Frost, Ferlinghetti, Dickinson, Shakespeare,
lots of
> voices) igniting the possibilities of verse in my life. Began to write
myself,
> frequent visits to Kelly's home, kept a binder anymore just for verse
written.
>
> Junior year of high school antiwar poem of mine published front page of
school
> newspaper got poetry banned from that publication by the school
administration.
> Started publishing my own underground newspaper, The Missing Page, of
poetry and
> articles with the aid of two faculty members who loaned the use of old
mimeograph
> machine and masters I typed on an old Brother manual typewriter sitting on
the
> floor of my room listing to Dylan's "The Times They Are A'Changin'" and
Ravi
> Shankar with Yehudi Menuhin in concert.
>
> Was suspended for a few days 12th grade for refusing to remove red
arm-band the
> day Military recruiters scheduled to pitch to political science class
students.
> Was rounded up in the first ever Pot bust at North Salinas High and met 22
of my
> best friends in Juvenile Hall. Discovered LSD with friends in San
Francisco
> apartment '60 something and windows opened. From then on I opened windows
whenever
> I could.
>
> Met first wife, mother of our son & daughter, as I was panhandling spare
change in
> local college student union for another bottle of wine with a pal.
Instantly
> sobered, I abandoned buddy and drink for that day. She is, of course,
forever
> blessed in my book, our children beautiful, dynamic individuals. In fact,
I'll be
> having Christmas eve dinner with her, her husband, our children,
grandchildren and
> his again this year. It's been a journey .
>
> Son, David, 28, and his wife Linda, just delivered grand-daughter Sophia
to us all
> this September. Maxwell, age 9, grandson from David's first marriage, will
be
> joining us for Christmas too. Daughter, Trinity, born '71, flying in from
New York
> City, is a registrar for an international gallery, world traveled, masters
degree
> in museum studies and a poet in her own right.
>
> I live in Monterey, CA, a harbor town on Monterey Bay about 100 miles down
the
> coast from San Francisco. Am happily single anymore, love my freedom, just
went
> back to work as an offset printer after two years off on disability. I
enjoy
> hiking and backpacking and am easing myself back into both.
>
> I've apprenticed myself some 25 years with a poet I admire yet have my own
voice
> for sure. I believe in the pass of energy language can convey when words
are
> chosen carefully. I believe a lyric quality in the rhythm of speech
unlocks
> possibilities for those with ears to hear.
>
> The Truth is Frank, a
> song and dance man
> wrote. All day, turning leaves
>
> blood   water   semen   tears
>
> red blooms on yellow
> bikini, holding my gut
> in, first day of Spring
>
> **************************
> Frank Parker
> [log in to unmask]
> http://users.montereyisp.com/frank
>