Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

one winkaholic
a tic! a twitch!
police one blink away

A one-line poem:

Ugh. Bugs.

soon, booms

full moon
opportune

Hope all is well with our friends
In Oahu & Kauai, Hawaii, & in
Kentucky, Indiana, & Tennessee...
Bless those folks & we wish you well--

Not all have had fine weather
This past week... let's all recover...
Shine down on us beautifully
Late Winter moon....

for every gram of suffering
a speck of beauty
for every rush of fear
a hug from a friend
laughter please!

May there be chuckles & jollity,
Hoots & frivolity,
Pointed hats on gnomes,
With a hearth in all our homes...

crank open the player piano
dance with the spirits
dimensions of joy join hands

crickets and their violins
serenading the night
fireflies punching holes in the darkness,
the cicada Om of summer
was here,
and you just missed it,
didn't you?
Memories
will come
and winter was hardly
worth the snow.

summernight
crickets replace the cicadas for some hours
tambura sounds & passing cars

muffled slipsteps of snail
under the light of jupiter
hang on to spring

Spring!
And the azaleas are dead.
The rhododendron is dead.
Nothing is blooming on either.
No leaves emerge and I'm on
the verge of tears!

Spring!
They've been flourishing
for nineteen years!
I wonder why
at a time like this,
the sighs from leaves
cannot be heard.

Spring!
And there is a bird
sitting on on a decayed branch
waiting for a wind-chance
to fly.

And so am I!

And so it is the ides, the mid-month
thrives of a dangerous sort, the reports
of madness ensuing, the undoing of
many, the true bluing of friendships
and enemyisms, the breaking out of
prisons, each spring prism reflected off
a rainbow pride. The ides, the ides.
Central March fare. Beware!

ides ideas thrive
here, no fear
reality peculiarity
distraction obsession
music magic trick

Happy St. Paddy's Day to ye,
May yer load go easy on your shoulders,
May the breezes be at your backs
May the sweet Lord hold you
In the palms of his hands...
Paraphrasing the bard...