Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Jam till the flowers bloom

Step right on up
Let the words
be your Jammin
guide

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Bring your seeds of creation!
We'll make a word garden, no doubt!

Waiting for spring
can take a very long time.
Sometimes all winter or even longer.
Where are all the flowers?
Are they ever going to show up?
You be the daffodil. I'll be the hyacinth.
I'm already here but where are you?

let white lilies perfume the air
like violins sync sweet
a lithe feminine sound
that tongues around the ear a treat
that grows from wish to double dare
that lifts the strap from gown
and down it flows and ups the heat
soft dancing then, will ensue, abound
cheek to cheek passion's fast to share

Chilly nights to come
Rough on the peach
& apricot blooms
Cherry blossoms
were maxed in the
warmth of late March
Light glistening on
the Potomac yesterday
A magical sight to behold

Spring is here
spring has sprung
Such beauty erupts
from winter's dung

The vacuum cleaner's on the blink;
a backup in the kitchen sink
is spewing dregs of coffee grinds,
there's dirt that's caked on all the blinds,
I cannot see through window panes
and all this dust makes me insane!
Sufficient hours don't exist
to air the rooms of kitty's piss.
No time's enough to clear the air
from all the mess that isn't fair.

Just writing this has cleansing power
but makes me need to take a shower.
Outside, the chlorophyll's bright green,
the purple flowers in between
the white and yellow and the red
accentuate that we aren't dead ...
and yet inside, we have been meaning
to finish last year's deep spring cleaning.

This is fiction, you should know,
but in case that isn't so
please send some Xanax in the mail
and do it quickly (please, large scale)!
Donate a vacuum to the cause!
And send some maids, too, just because
it's true a crew can help convene
completing last year's deep spring clean!

Collapest the shed
saved the lizzerd
worked till just now feel better
fellow poets
I am glad for you
true harts
ego tyrents of
blinding stupidity
be gone
minds clearing
see ya
love you all

how green the fields
the harvest of carrots
air spiced with juice

spring, so short
so vibrant
this april gift

beehive my windpipe
swing my watchdog
hammer my head
spacecraft housecoat payload
all humpbacks report to the jump deck !
liftoff ! - - -
make it airtight
firsthand
foolproof
put some syllables together
jam them up
shortsighted or shipshape
hotheaded outstretched
overdue telltales
moonstruck !
upright !
weatherproof !
sabertooth cat heartbeat !
fuck me to a mess!
and the same to you too !
catfish cousins,
let's moonbeam up the boogie woogie !

Boogie woogie
That tutti fruity
Eat them savoy truffles
Beneath the pale moonlight
Spring sprung but
Oh baby it's cold outside
Watching French movies
No subtitles
Love and death
April in Paris
Would be nice

I'm feeling Florence
a little old world culture
serious beauty

painting with the windows open
yesterday, today it's 36 degrees
my head can't wrap this up so well
back in the sixties tomorrow for
Opening Day, my beloved Orioles
will take the field, the orange
and black rule 'round these parts
the Buck stops here, Mr. Showalter
will have them ready to play, the team
looks like a beer league softball team
this year, bunch a big boppers, so come
on LongBall....I'm ready for the real spring
the training is all behind us, we've
waited patiently reading the newspaper
I have tickets for April 9th, don't have
and orange and black parka, so come on
spring...get to springing, spring your little
ass off

Wind kicked up a storm!
Blew the trash cans down the street.
Temperature dropped 20 degrees
in an hour last night. Glad I didn't
start planting flowers 'cause oh what a sight
they'd be today, petals torn off, leaves frayed,
withered ready to die before even having
a chance to thrive!

It's 34 degrees fahrenheit and oh what a night
it was, poor old me shivering with the heat turned off,
coughing without my asthma meds, two blankets
thick on the bed, lying in a fetal position
arms posed like a praying mantis, asking God
if it was His or Her will to help me pay the
exorbitant bills.

When will it be spring? What will the season bring?
A purpose, perhaps? Some warmth? I beg your pardon,
dear Lord wherever or whoever you may be, when will
the peonies attract the honeybee? It's too cold for gardening
but I'm remembering the sun.

Meet me for afternoon tea, someone!
Let us wait together to welcome back the trees
when their leaves emerge! This setback is only temporary.

I am no visionary but I have faith that if we wait
long enough, the caterpillars will hatch and crawl
and soon transform into monarchs, while we picnic
on a blanket bathing in the sun. Have faith with me,
will you please? Soon the chill will pass and alas!
The festival of foliage!