Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Christmas time at home.
Frosted shortbread and bows.
Small gifts in huge shiny boxes.
Christmas tree with an angel on top,
right to the ceiling, an inch to the crown.
Colored lights and tinsel spilled on down.
Sweet smells from the kitchen never rested.
In rarity of snow, put on wool hat and mittens.
Sled down the hill, leave boots on the porch.
Nothing could change that peace and joy,
those times of warm, humble treasure.
I was home.

In two-thousand-eight,
I tried to keep the spirit alive.
The snow made it back, but as dirty slush.
I met the neighborhood kids in the driveway,
but our talk was not of cookies or sledding.
It was of another Federal Reserve scam.
It was of debts impossible to ever repay,
of the government blowing up skyscrapers,
of the endless gray paranoia and doom
permeating our strange new existence.
Seems this year can't leave fast enough,
though I don't expect much from the next.

sadly thoughtful, nazz, but some distorted reality we seem to have to get through before there is a resurgence of contentedness, at best.

Thanks, Cec. My lifetime has seen so many dramatic changes-- baby booms, technology explosions, the ever-present threat of a mushroom cloud on the horizon--just more, more, more of everything. Including cynicism I suppose. These have been mighty cynical times we've lived through, maybe worse now than ever. Can't give up hope, I guess, even though it seems so many intelligent humans scoff at that idea.

indeed, we are living thru times we haven't been thru before in our lifetimes, regardless of our ages. so much of everything and not all of it good. our population explosion has much to do with it all, i'm sure. too many people, too many needs, too many wants, too much too much. there seems to be so much of every thing that we're lost in the middle of it all trying to comprehend what it's all about and what do we do about it.

it's beginning to look like our path is the path of money. where the dollar is, people flock. it makes little difference what is done with the money as long as we get our share. money could do so much, but money only follows its own... money following money while we all tag along on an economic leash of our own doing.

as it stands today, i wonder about Obama and how the man will attempt to lead his nation thru the crisis we are all involved in in some way or another. it belongs to all of us. but to worry about such things only overshadows the reality of january 20th and what one man's dreams can do. i prefer dreams over the nightmares we all seem to be living in now.

thank you, mnaz.

almost two halves... Gracias for sharing the poem, mnaz!

Reminds me of a Joni Mitchell song for some reason. The Circle Game.

If we could see with a child's eyes again, we would have more hope I think.



ten four on the two halves
I really like the juxtaposition

i guess it depends on where your focus is...i think there is still magic where we make the time for it moving other things to the background. not saying there isn't horror and sad out there, just...sometimes you gotta change the channel to fill your soul again...

i send you a hug mr. nazz