As 
he enters his prime, American poet Frank 
Messina has been described by critics as taunting, heroic, generous, 
mischievous, direct, intelligent, inspiring, audacious, hilarious and down to 
earth. From his Italian ancestry he inherited a flair for the dramatic, 
and in his latest collaborative release, 'Walking Home', Messina cuts a fare bella 
figura.
 
With 
one eye on the battlefield and the other on Lady Liberty, visionary poet Frank 
Messina hammers away at Pandora's box and uncovers the steel fragility of New 
Yorkers and the ability of human beings to accept suffering and defeat with dignity. 
His love of a good old-fashioned fight propels him to shamelessly re-enact the 
ranting and haunting of a post 9/ll world within the stadiums, soundscapes and 
streets of New York. He tells us of a vision he has of Walt Whitman pointing toward 
the soul of America:
 
I 
saw you Walt Whitman, high above the Palisade, with your crooked finger,
pointing 
south toward New York Harbor
..
 
I 
heard the bagpipes of autumn one too many times
 
 You 
searching for your brother
And 
I searching for the soul of America
Is 
that where you were pointing
pointing 
toward the soul of America
..
 
 Franks poetry is 
clearly masculine. Usually manliness displays itself through aggression or cruelty, 
but Frank is able to convey it through tenderness as well. 
 
In 
his prose-poem, Playing for The Mets, 
he confronts the innocent, boyhood dilemma of growing up as a Mets fan in a Yankee 
town. As he returns home from a victorious game of stickball in the street with 
Yankee legends Catfish Hunter and Craig Nettles, the young Mets fan is rewarded 
with a kiss by a tough, but cute red-head named Roxanne, who looks 
at Frankie and says, 'you won'. At that moment, the boy finds out what it means 
to be the hero, the slugger
one who just tasted the quiet glory of 
being a Mets fan. From an early age Frank understands the sweet smell of 
victory and he's been chasing it ever since:
 
 
'Every shop in town had pictures of Yankees. You couldnt get away from it. 
In short, it was Mets fan hell.' and 'long before baseball lived in mansions, 
they lived in places called home'. 
 
In 
  'Disorderly Conduct' he passionately 
speaks out about our duty to help one another. Part of Franks psyche is 
to rescue friends and strangers:
"you 
are hereby charged with 
complacency 
in the first degree, 
possession 
of ambivalence
and 
failure to obey a distress signal
from 
your fellow citizens
 
Get 
against the wall!"
In 
his masterful Dylan praise poem, For Bob Dylan, 
Messina captures not only the unrest of the early 60s, but the desire of 
flower children and hipsters alike to seek a savior, a guru, a leader. Dylan, 
the reluctant messiah, came to us because music was the answer. He 
went Electric, oh my God, screamed the kids. But wasnt he already electric? 
Messina says Dylan is an arrogant lover of life:
'Folk 
poet-master-troubadour-angry Jewish kid 
out 
of the corner pocket of the American dope deal, 
arrogant 
lover of life, bard with a beard of butterflies, 
flies 
to the moon, comes back With a silver box and a 
revolution 
tucked deep inside' 
 
 
Messina's mission, 
is to bring poetry back to the people, to the masses. Its quite a heroic 
challenge that he may partially win. In part because Frank is both an 'outsider' 
and an 'insider'. In a recent conversation I had with Frank, he comments about 
the self-help books glutting the market, and the absurdity of their making it 
to the New YorkTimes best seller list. He said 'If more people read Dante, Shakespeare, 
Kerouac and Amram they would have a better understanding of themselves....they 
wouldn't need crappy self help books'! I reminded him that it wasn't just the 
ancient Greek or Roman stadiums that were filled with poetry fans. Before the 
Soviet Union fell apart, they held huge poetry readings in their stadiums with 
thousands of eager fans in attendance. 
 
Franks 
contributions to the collaborative CD, 'Walking Home', 
are some of his finest spoken word recordings to date. His hard-edged baritone 
voice with its smooth New York accent and biting humor are both comforting and 
exhilarating. Frank arouses us with baseball, bravery, nostalgia, hope, conquest, 
civility, and unexpected loss. The anguish of his father's death two years ago 
is never far from his heart and it's humbled him.. 
 
'Walking 
Home' is a beautiful collaboration, inspired by one of America's 
finest poets, Ron Whitehead. 
Frank is fortunate to be accompanied by the good vibrations of singer, songwriter 
and guitarist Tyrone Cotton 
on guitar, new comer Sarah 
Elizabeth on vocals and dulcimer; and Andy 
Cook on percussion and guitar. However, when I listen to 'Walking 
Home' it's Frank Messina's voice that captures my autumn New York 
state of mind. 
 
Influenced 
by Jack Kerouac and the Beats, Frank is fast becoming a voice for post 
9/ll America, in a way that Kerouac became a voice for many post WWll baby boomers. 
Both writers inspired by a youthful, bold, and audacious country called America, 
where one feels that everything is possible, in the sense of becoming. 

Zoe 
Artemis, is a native New Yorker, a Dancer and 
Instructor who writes 'reviews', short stories, and poetry. 
 
Learn 
More about Zoe Artemis at

www.zoeartemis.com