tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-123398462024-03-13T06:00:04.837-04:00Jo Janoski's BlogJo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.comBlogger502125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-43324966546244422762012-07-29T09:09:00.000-04:002012-07-29T09:09:16.072-04:00Only This TimeThe other day I stepped outside in the evening when the sun was going down. It was raining at the same time, coming together to be all golden and expressive. The whole scene took on a life of its own. It was very moving.<br /><br />Only This Time<br /><br />Golden hour and rain has come<br />watery sheet<br />cascading down while day makes done,<br />illuminated golden sun<br />mixing with raindrops, pensive beat<br />undulating, speaking in rhyme<br />sun and water destined to meet<br />only this time<br />alone, complete. <br /><br />Copyright 2012 JO Janoski<br />Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-59455709566227000532012-06-24T08:43:00.005-04:002012-07-29T09:10:26.727-04:00A New DayA New Day<br />
(like music plays)<br />
<br />
In whisper quiet<br />
winds rush, like symphonies play<br />
to flee dark of night<br />
and see dawn's alarming sun<br />
shoot music rays each morning.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright 2012 JO Janoski</span></i>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-13516683876629176092012-03-23T14:51:00.001-04:002012-07-29T09:10:48.348-04:00Best Intentions<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Intentions,</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">like cool, soft morning,<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">they whisper innuendos,</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">confronted by doubtful breezes and<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">stale winds of experience...<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">but still they glide by<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">like angels.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "Arial"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright 2012 JO Janoski</i></span></span></div>
<br />Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-54124057743978646062012-03-11T09:26:00.001-04:002012-03-11T09:29:50.097-04:00Please Don't Be Afraid<span style="font-family: georgia,serif;">Blue l</span><span style="font-family: georgia,serif;">ike a frightened violet,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: georgia,serif;">your face turned from wind's icy stare,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: georgia,serif;">color muted and message denied,<br />with only a whisper remaining <br />of your beauty, made speechless<br />
by the cold.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />Copyright 2012 JO Janoski</i></span></span>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-56261623391630695182012-01-09T09:37:00.000-05:002012-01-09T09:37:36.064-05:00Hesitancy<b>Hesitancy </b><br /><br />Inspirations, like crystal waters flow<br />cascading over waterfall mind sweeps<br />down to a grounded world,<br />next to splash up in diamonds<br />forceful and glimmering<br />swimming through air<br />dancing for the utter joy of it<br />while considering implementation,<br />only to disburse by the hand<br />of quick stepping evaporation<br />absorbed back into lazy vapors<br />undone by harsh realities of time<br />except for those few determined drops<br />who run fast and break free.<br /><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright 2012 JO Janoski</i></span>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-35884868808886807802011-10-21T17:29:00.001-04:002012-03-11T09:30:37.698-04:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKSviFnQTKbF6mjhznJ5i-gvJPShi-ovj0uRMSBd7X_wcU5i2Z6rMEXvBFlfmnQJpla9yahueNzW3tmNpAbb_XViritei74_Is7n3_9dlElNYLtcySsO6WDjTjbmbsY3CWeuc/s1600/TN_jaguar.GIF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBKSviFnQTKbF6mjhznJ5i-gvJPShi-ovj0uRMSBd7X_wcU5i2Z6rMEXvBFlfmnQJpla9yahueNzW3tmNpAbb_XViritei74_Is7n3_9dlElNYLtcySsO6WDjTjbmbsY3CWeuc/s1600/TN_jaguar.GIF" /></a></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She Gets It</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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Car ride with the top down </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
like a risqué, open blouse</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and blond hair</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
streaming translucence,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
while sunshine bullets</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
skid silver sparks across chrome bumpers,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sunday free electrification</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in super high speed,</div>
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a spaniel on her lap shifts head out window,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
getting orgasmic in sweet breezes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and a beagle rides passenger,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
content in this unrealness</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
grasping the moment,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
freedom-seeking trio.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This girl knows how to live.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
She gets it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></i></div>
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<br /></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-33060254695380187062011-09-18T09:15:00.000-04:002011-09-18T09:15:31.080-04:00Sunday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtGFXdyXgJsz-738OlshPO5C3kdaxyVm_lnhyrHfIaMFLaUIATuvMo9qlgRcgtELIQxoszJfoZFTiMFJ6DTIVGcPlAm7nfWpSOisEh6AUOiySTAY8jCeHseJ0yOvINYtXvHDT/s1600/Sol.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtGFXdyXgJsz-738OlshPO5C3kdaxyVm_lnhyrHfIaMFLaUIATuvMo9qlgRcgtELIQxoszJfoZFTiMFJ6DTIVGcPlAm7nfWpSOisEh6AUOiySTAY8jCeHseJ0yOvINYtXvHDT/s1600/Sol.png" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sunday</b></span><br /><br />Sunday comes creeping<br />nudging me, murmuring words<br />like arise, get up!<br />She has big plans, this Sunday.<br />Doing gentle deeds,<br />speaking words of devotion<br />to all things common<br />to me, to everyone,<br />we start in prayer<br />and end in the sun, shining<br />on this good and pleasant life.<br /><br /><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></i></div>
Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-80299363193726177812011-07-14T09:06:00.003-04:002011-07-15T08:35:00.945-04:00Morning Illumination<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGhtMnU5vwNPIV50IrwJiGsyPH4otdb4ZaW_1kxzbXIjrrdd6bJUfcLkT8QgeAFwxwoYovuSWDSjQLeb5oqHGdeCiwJbUXwx66FtSOFD9uHmKA4XBRj1tLDvS9vef5bCze-_h/s1600/daffs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGhtMnU5vwNPIV50IrwJiGsyPH4otdb4ZaW_1kxzbXIjrrdd6bJUfcLkT8QgeAFwxwoYovuSWDSjQLeb5oqHGdeCiwJbUXwx66FtSOFD9uHmKA4XBRj1tLDvS9vef5bCze-_h/s320/daffs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Morning Illumination</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">In morning<br />like spring flowers bloom<br />my whole world illuminates <br />with golden-haired thoughts and fresh air dreams,<br />reaching from ground to cosmos<br />with joyful dancing<br />towards God.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</i></span></div>
Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-70751499941283246502011-06-24T09:18:00.000-04:002011-06-24T09:18:25.782-04:00SmileSmile<br />
<i>...a poem for the sycophants</i><br />
<br />
Smile at me,<br />
lips upturned with vague<br />
intentions<br />
denying<br />
your fervor, loyalty, love.<br />
Your mask is slipping.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></i>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-75985608829039806732011-06-03T08:33:00.000-04:002011-06-03T08:33:22.397-04:00On a Spring Morning<div>Across emerald lawns</div><div>sunshine stutters through </div><div>fan dancing leaves</div><div>making music ...<br />
</div><div>while the birds sing</div><div>in perfect harmony,</div><div>and it's all so gentle</div><div>it makes my heart leap<br />
</div><div>in sublime appreciation</div><div>for something so rare.</div><div> </div><div>Copyright 2011 JO Janoski </div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-29820828628671781592011-05-30T09:21:00.000-04:002011-05-30T09:21:23.245-04:00For the Fallen Soldier<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1dGQvoQc4b-LhMXsx521hgK69j_FhqOGNnms_nzqiFlvOIvbWCNudsMCjIJBTydstQiRfIM4KW47N0Lb5cxXqb-jJp9EvdT_otSZ1oHJ8zNWYXSB_3ItZ9vZ5YGyniyt19eR/s1600/flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP1dGQvoQc4b-LhMXsx521hgK69j_FhqOGNnms_nzqiFlvOIvbWCNudsMCjIJBTydstQiRfIM4KW47N0Lb5cxXqb-jJp9EvdT_otSZ1oHJ8zNWYXSB_3ItZ9vZ5YGyniyt19eR/s1600/flag.jpg" /></a></div><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody">For the Fallen Soldier<br />
<br />
Like day falls, your eyes<br />
glistened like an evening star,<br />
illuminating<br />
<span class="text_exposed_show">why we're here and why we stay<br />
and most of all why we go.</span></span></span></h6><h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":"msg"}" style="text-align: left;"><span class="messageBody"><span class="text_exposed_show"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski </span></i></span></span></h6><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-30348323887355668922011-05-13T19:49:00.001-04:002011-05-14T08:16:50.774-04:00Any Port<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Three girls, giggling and immersed in conversation, strolled along wide and appropriately named Maple Street. Trees lined the avenue splattering pockets of shade like patchwork, with limbs outstretched in an elegant ballet. The leafy ceiling shielded the friends' raucous conversation, submerging their laughter in a gentle blanket of coolness. The teens moved, stopped to giggle, then walked again in repeated steps making their way down the street.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Meg, the tallest, boasted sunshine eyes that never wavered. And Pat, the grounded one, pushed brown-rimmed spectacles on her nose and glanced to the third girl, Josie. Josie always looked rustled and discontent.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"Josie, do you believe what Meg said!"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Josie looked back, perplexed. She hadn't been listening. She rarely did, being the odd one in the group and always off base with her surroundings. Normally, she found their conversations silly, but the other two made good company, or at least it was better than being alone. It got her out of the house, that asylum house. She ran trembling fingers through her Medusa hair and looked to Pat with large, dark eyes that hovered over her tenuous lips.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"What did she say?"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"Josie, do you ever pay attention? This idiot just said she's asking Butch Hartley out? Do you believe that?"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"Who is Butch whatever?"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Pat threw her arms up in exasperation. "I'm a genius between two morons!"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">They reached the intersection and stopped. On the opposite corner the town "character/nut job"--known simply as "Daniel" hovered, muttering and shaking one fist in the air, engrossed in earnest conversation with an imaginary foe. If he did it only this one day, he might not have built a reputation on it. But Daniel spent every afternoon in the same manner, cussing and hopping around on that corner in a rage. Constantly disheveled, hair spiked, his haunted, red eyes looked to a curious world of demons. Close up, where you could taste the effluvia of his nightmare, he presented a frightening spectacle. But from a distance his antics remained harmless, even comical.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">The vacant corner of Maple and First was his regular haunt. One would think, assuming he was drunk, he'd want to be near a bar; unless you were one of the people who knew he actually didn't drink, that Daniel was simply crazy.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><i>Josie knew.</i> He was her brother. But not many people were aware of it, certainly not her girl friends. She kept it secret. To let it fly out and be announced would humiliate, blacken, destroy her. People would match her up with him like they belonged together, like they were both crazy. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"Oh God! There’s Daniel!" Meg declared. "Don't cross the street! Let's get out of here!"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Josie's mind blasted into a thousand pieces as she tried to slow her thoughts and find her bearings. Her burning cheeks! Would her red face give away her secret? It felt like her face must be apple red.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"I wouldn't want to interrupt that lively conversation he's having with himself!" Pat added, a wry smile passing her lips.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Josie caught her breath. They didn’t know, did they? That Daniel was her brother? He seemed bad today, obviously off his meds. She never knew what he'd be like, minute to minute.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"Josie, are you coming?"</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">The other two stood importantly, hands on hips. Josie's mind raced. Those girls' biggest problem was who to ask for a date. So easily they could dismiss the fellow on the corner! The dull thumping in her head eased and the burning in her cheeks cooled. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">"I'm coming!" she said. The sooner, the better. Besides, didn't they say any port in a storm? Any port. A hell of a storm. She’d just keep walking with them...keep walking. They didn’t know. She was safe. Get out of here. Any port.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></span></div></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-25397201106385357962011-05-09T08:25:00.001-04:002011-05-09T08:34:06.019-04:00Waiting<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Translucent</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">lily pad thoughts float</span></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">aimlessly,</span></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">gurgling by</span></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">on restless waters humming,</span></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">waiting to begin.</span></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Photo & Poem Copyright JO Janoski 2011</span></i></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H_XjZ3f8GUg/Tcbaw0-zyZI/AAAAAAAAHlQ/CfPDVKiijhU/s1600/DSC_1118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H_XjZ3f8GUg/Tcbaw0-zyZI/AAAAAAAAHlQ/CfPDVKiijhU/s320/DSC_1118.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 0px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: 'Bookman Old Style'; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: -webkit-auto; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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</div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-76379423446103184512011-04-17T09:46:00.000-04:002011-04-17T09:46:18.837-04:00Lost at Sea<div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Lately I skim along time's glass surface.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Indecision, confusion fill my days</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">as I wonder what is my life's purpose.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I slip, I slide. My mind is in a daze.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">My feet walk on ground with no real design.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">My being boasts no guidance through life's maze.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">My fate is clear. To wander I resign.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Anchors away! I'm truly lost at sea.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I'll splash. I'll flounder til the end of time.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Is this it? Is this the essential me?</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">But wait! Do I sense your dear presence near?</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Remembrances! Of how we used to be.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">In a flicker, in a light, one so dear,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">spinning dreams in rainbow-sparkled starlight,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">My soul ignites as clarity appears.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Dear one, you come when darkest is the night,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">to light the way to my illusive soul,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">where necessary wisdom knows what's right.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br clear="none" /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></span></div><div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2pSNtnfi8bpiSHyzZL6O-8VGfAKourmb1p74cp0vDuCs-tfZ__OimZwUce5JBDbkgmA4gUQESItgeWTnVvZgUFPcu8U0XIvzF5NAP9JcdT_8IpJIs1Biihcs5rocDl0F2H3C/s1600/heading+home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB2pSNtnfi8bpiSHyzZL6O-8VGfAKourmb1p74cp0vDuCs-tfZ__OimZwUce5JBDbkgmA4gUQESItgeWTnVvZgUFPcu8U0XIvzF5NAP9JcdT_8IpJIs1Biihcs5rocDl0F2H3C/s320/heading+home.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-67872441469666859542011-04-16T07:24:00.000-04:002011-04-16T07:24:56.945-04:00To Linger<div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Your voice, a hymn</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">sprinkling yellow daffodils</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">on a brown, ugly world.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Your tone is hushed</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">like soft winds,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">brushing treetops</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">left scraggly </span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">by December's cold whip.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">You try to smooth the edges</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">with the sound of your voice.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">But recalcitrant winds persist</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">snapping willy-nilly</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">at the landscape at night.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">You awaken and find</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">the daffodils have died.</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">But you are Spring</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">and you linger,</span></div><div><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">knowing time is on your side.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ-PwUpKqYXEThyy6bfnNiE09TsSHx5liAA_S2jKXghypTuC2NwvSKJ6wtQzgeaOfnCFy8sBU7AApTRTKwJbGwE0rw6WsySFcQk7qLrHkLbNoaE-6crM3JuMvw6S2q7qIyvZG/s1600/daffs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTJ-PwUpKqYXEThyy6bfnNiE09TsSHx5liAA_S2jKXghypTuC2NwvSKJ6wtQzgeaOfnCFy8sBU7AApTRTKwJbGwE0rw6WsySFcQk7qLrHkLbNoaE-6crM3JuMvw6S2q7qIyvZG/s200/daffs.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="border-collapse: separate; color: black; font-family: Tahoma; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; orphans: 2; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-67862120925204432582011-02-19T16:59:00.000-05:002011-02-19T16:59:59.540-05:00That Great Unknown<div>Loneliness</div><div>defines my spirit</div><div>as I walk That Great Unknown</div><div>wondering where I am to go now,</div><div>to settle on life's purpose.</div><div>Is this all there is</div><div>or will be?</div><div><br clear="none" /></div><div>In these times</div><div>I sense your shadow</div><div>but know I'll never <em>see you</em>.</div><div>On sunny days I foolishly think</div><div>you're walking with me, smiling.</div><div>I should know better.</div><div>You are blind.</div><div><br clear="none" /></div><div>Why should I</div><div>not have your secrets</div><div>to explain uncertainty<em>?</em></div><div>I want to know all explanations,</div><div>and ascertain all reasons,</div><div>life with no riddles.</div><div>To see all.</div><div><br clear="none" /></div><div>Will you walk</div><div>with me and whisper</div><div>secrets of That Great Unknown,</div><div>fill my mind with knowledge eternal?</div><div>Alas, I knew you would not.</div><div>My only chance is</div><div>to have faith.</div><div><br clear="none" /></div><div><em>Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</em></div><div><em><br />
</em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oGbcwX4xDqI/SX_LRQXvzEI/AAAAAAAACUU/-DA6z1R0r6E/s1600/WHTIRIS3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oGbcwX4xDqI/SX_LRQXvzEI/AAAAAAAACUU/-DA6z1R0r6E/s200/WHTIRIS3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div><em><br />
</em></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-38044103589025378962011-02-06T15:44:00.001-05:002011-02-06T15:45:00.757-05:00Meeting by ChanceLingering<br />
like a full moon glares<br />
steady and implacable<br />
your eyes, fireworks, hang in mid air<br />
portent, heavy, dripping stars<br />
to meet my glimmer<br />
in return.<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHh_bjZCtSDa7eGPG3LaVR21fbPgTsTbv8dYbBuUQCSFWXehJui-JcOGUaYHvPPZkMnRFKTRK0CV3n1CO6j54yo81YHGNHn4PH_4CW-kdgKV21-RH_yXUg2543S01Kf80ZUvdB/s1600/moon.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHh_bjZCtSDa7eGPG3LaVR21fbPgTsTbv8dYbBuUQCSFWXehJui-JcOGUaYHvPPZkMnRFKTRK0CV3n1CO6j54yo81YHGNHn4PH_4CW-kdgKV21-RH_yXUg2543S01Kf80ZUvdB/s1600/moon.png" /></a></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-59802940065049010742011-01-20T06:51:00.000-05:002011-01-20T06:51:41.453-05:00InspiredSnow and ice has worn my world<br />
down to grass flattened<br />
by the weight of my very shoes.<br />
Trees are chopped, truncated, blunt<br />
like that crazy brainstorming<br />
I used to do,<br />
now deafened.<br />
All is bleak until I clear my head<br />
and note the translucence of melting snow <br />
and ponder how white is white<br />
if you can see through it<br />
like an icy waterfall of doubt.<br />
My eyes detect a movement<br />
of grasses blowing<br />
like a thousand hands clapping.<br />
In this frozen abyss they prosper<br />
taking center stage on a field of white<br />
making noise with their movement<br />
like fans cheering or monks gyrating<br />
in praise to the Lord.<br />
They call to me and whisper,<br />
"Encore!"<br />
Back to real life, inspired.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo and Poem, Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRZRva6xHHrP8KiCIhyphenhyphenU_KebKcF4aWzWfdPq4Igjra0zIXnvd79XFGfULMVckCTKchpdFF-vgm2daZDD8kuzCgPA36UK6yUW3KFRzmQ5ouhn0JRk2fjo4H6bEVMXNBSmK4yS2/s1600/dsc_0975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGRZRva6xHHrP8KiCIhyphenhyphenU_KebKcF4aWzWfdPq4Igjra0zIXnvd79XFGfULMVckCTKchpdFF-vgm2daZDD8kuzCgPA36UK6yUW3KFRzmQ5ouhn0JRk2fjo4H6bEVMXNBSmK4yS2/s320/dsc_0975.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-91846280786648429892011-01-10T08:07:00.000-05:002011-01-10T08:07:04.288-05:00IceI feel a rush<br />
iconoclastic<br />
and out of place<br />
in this winter-soft paradise.<br />
The air, it balloons with whispers<br />
moist, they sparkle<br />
and drip into my very fiber<br />
wet and expectedly quiet.<br />
The sun pushes rays<br />
across purified snow<br />
like red sleds gliding<br />
producing a line of power strokes,<br />
orange hot yet misleading<br />
when one is surrounded by ice.<br />
I'm not sure whether to feel<br />
ambivalent or blessed.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</span></i>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-44683232051395605092011-01-02T08:22:00.000-05:002011-01-02T08:22:24.185-05:00SnowSatin streaks reaching<br />
across snowy fields<br />
like hymns hovering<br />
above still white ground.<br />
Can you hear voices,<br />
angels too humble<br />
to show their faces<br />
or murmur their names,<br />
ringing out sweet songs<br />
in adulation<br />
of all magical.<br />
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</style><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Photo & Poem Copyright 2011 JO Janoski</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i></i></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NA6nDAaNCOQ/RdkgR5a70bI/AAAAAAAAAMM/PC7AIwsEV-A/s1600/394732373_3bbbe13ed4_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NA6nDAaNCOQ/RdkgR5a70bI/AAAAAAAAAMM/PC7AIwsEV-A/s320/394732373_3bbbe13ed4_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br />
</i></span>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-12175518068321431552010-12-28T08:26:00.000-05:002010-12-28T08:26:54.142-05:00Minute by MinuteHer voice startles me in the somber quiet of the waiting room. <br />
<br />
"What is that thing?" she asks. <br />
<br />
I look over in surprise and then explain it is a Sony pocket ereader. It holds books and news. <br />
<br />
She asks me in garbled language whether it goes online. At least I think that's what she means. It sounds as though she doesn't know much about computers to ask the question. I explain it does not, and that I have to upload books from the computer myself. She glazes over, and I turn away, back to my own business. <br />
<br />
Three seats away, a fellow's iphone blurts out a sentence fragment--"Hello" in a big, sunny female voice that shatters the waiting room's silence like glass breaking. He stifles it and curls up into himself. I go back to my reading while particles of guilt pick at my brain's outer layers. The woman next to me. She only wanted someone to chat with. Her eyes when I look are restless, nervous. Pill bottles poke out of her hand bag. She's taken a seat too close to me. Only one empty chair separates us. That's bad form. The guy's iphone blurts out again, and once more his quick stifle.<br />
<br />
Are we becoming a generation of isolationists? All of these electronic gizmos...with them, we can communicate in other ways instead of with those in the present. And for me, an old-fashioned book is easy to lay aside, but an electronic ereader demands respect. It is too important to lay aside. All shiny and trendy. It's not some paper book with bent corners and dirty, crinkled pages.<br />
<br />
In the exam room, I wait some more. The doctor hurries in. He signs insurance papers for me while at the same time scans a monitor. I correct and add to some of what catches his eye. He helps me to the exam table and starts the required poking and prodding. All comes to a complete halt listening to my heart. He puts his hand on my chest and listens more. The silence in the room deafens me. He asks when I last had an EKG. He says he heard an extra heart beat. I've been without insurance for a while, so I tell him at least three years have gone by. He orders one and says he'll be back.<br />
<br />
Later, after the test, he smiles and states my EKG is better than his. I'm released from the brief worry and switch back to regular mode, pondering as is my fashion, if the remark is from the doctor's box of standard words and phrases, like, "Take two aspirin and call me in the morning." It doesn't matter. Standard phrases mean life is normal. That's the main thing. Normal.<br />
<br />
Copyright 2010 JO Janoski<style type="text/css">
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</style>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-69262687717438247112010-12-23T13:07:00.000-05:002010-12-23T13:07:10.829-05:00Secret Santa<style type="text/css">
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</style><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-weight: 600;"></span></span> <br />
<div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: 600; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 10pt; font-weight: 600; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey felt his pulse quicken as he read the name on a crinkled piece of paper: Sarah Getty. Of all people, he got Sarah in the Christmas grab bag. Sarah, the most beautiful girl in creation with long red hair that cascaded and bounced in the sun like jewels. But a ready smile that illuminated even the darkest day was her finest feature. He crunched the paper in a sweaty palm and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. How in the heck could he buy her a gift when he couldn't even afford lunch money? And she deserved the most fabulous gift in the world.</span></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">After school he took a walk around town, just to look. The streets hummed with busy shoppers, pushing and shoving, rushing, their arms weary from dragging packages. He surveyed them and wondered how they had so much money to buy all that stuff. His fingers pushed around in empty pockets, except for a few coins and $5.00, a part of which was already spoken for to buy groceries for his mom. It was only the middle of December, so he had two weeks to go on his scrawny finances. His mom did her best to give him a few bucks. But being a single mother with four kids was a challenge. He had learned to grow up early, filling in where Dad used to be, helping around the house and taking care of his brother and sisters. Mom worked two jobs, so someone had to keep an eye on the kids, make them meals, help with their homework. Even now, he didn't have long to linger before he needed to get home before the younger ones got in from school.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">He walked further, lost in thought, bemoaning his miseries, when to his surprise he walked right into a red kettle Santa, knocking the fellow off his feet and slamming to the pavement.</span></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">"HEY! What the heck!" the guy yelled.</span></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey, red-faced, extended a hand to help him to his feet. "I'm sorry, Mister. I wasn't looking." He uttered the apology in breathless gasps. Santa was a portly fellow to lift.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Whimsical, button eyes peered back at him and a smile scampered across Santa's face. "No harm done, sonny! We're all busy. </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">Ho, ho, ho!"</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey chuckled. "You take your job seriously, I see. What with the </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">ho, ho, ho</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;"> and all."</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">"It's not a job. It's a calling."</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey stepped back. "I see," he said, smiling. His eyes wandered to the red kettle where a twenty-dollar bill peeked out from the contents. What a great gift he could buy with that twenty dollars! </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">What was he thinking?</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;"> Ripping off Santa! </span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">"It's a bad idea," Santa murmured.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey looked back in surprise. His mind raced and</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">the urge to steal was quickly replaced by humiliation and confusion, confusion as to how Santa knew what he was thinking. It was all more than he could handle. He turned on his heel and sped away.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">On Christmas eve, Joey walked to school like an inmate heading to the chamber, head bowed, dragging his feet which shuffled as though in chains. He had no present for Sarah Getty for the grab bag. There was bound to be an awkward moment coming when no gift would be found with her name on it. Stunned silence would fill the room as everyone looked around in horror. Maybe he could stand up and give her whatever he got. He could step forward like a gallant fellow saying, "Who is the jerk that didn't buy you a gift? Here, take mine!" He would look like a hero and no one would suspect him as the creep who left Sarah empty-handed. Joey grunted. No way he could pull that off! He ached with guilt and a host of other unsettling emotions. His embarrassment would surely betray him.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">As Mr. Findley, the teacher, picked up the final present, Joey fought back the urge to go screaming from the room. Sarah Getty sat expectantly, and he knew she thought that last package was hers. But it wouldn't be. He fingered the gloves he had been given by Jean Hardy. They were a nice gift, but he could hardly offer them to Sarah. What would she do with a man-sized pair of gloves? His heart </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">rat-tat-tatted </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">in his chest. If only he could disappear.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">The teacher glanced at the gift tag and announced,</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;"> Sarah Getty.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">That girl rushed to the front to receive her gift. Joey watched, his blood freezing in his veins inch by inch as his panic lengthened. </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">Who gave her a gift?</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">She tore into the tiny present, ripping off wrapping paper, tossing ribbon aside, finally to uncover a jewelry box. She opened the lid and smiled. Lifting a gold necklace for all to see, she read her Secret Santa's name, which prompted her to smile at Joey and toss him a kiss. </span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">"Thank you, Joey! It is exactly what I've been wanting," she said.</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">Joey grinned like a lovesick sailor. And then the mystery hit him. </span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">Where did the gift come from?</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;"> And why did the card say it was from him? But memories of that kiss took over his mind, and he walked home thinking of nothing else. As he passed the red kettle Santa, that portly fellow chuckled and murmured,</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;"> "Ho, ho, ho!"</span></div><div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt;">And people don't believe in Santa! Go figure!</span><span style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;"> Ho, ho, ho!</span></div><div style="margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"><br />
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<div style="font-family: 'Sans Serif'; font-size: 9pt; margin: 0px; text-indent: 0px;"></div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-53613451772225330622010-12-19T08:00:00.000-05:002010-12-19T08:00:06.161-05:00Christmas Bells<div style="text-align: center;">Silver resplendent</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>musical </i>ribbons twirling</div><div style="text-align: center;">to wrap doubting hearts</div><div style="text-align: center;">in vision-warmed memories</div><div style="text-align: center;">of childhood wonders,</div><div style="text-align: center;">an inspiration unsought</div><div style="text-align: center;">while painting Christmas in thought. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2010 JO Janoski</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBsnsGGxGmzsG8R_8_IKNU_tVYftg8GPG4_cpZrZAshdTHJogYV2wqZye4huzqgYMUxcLSfTwgVfJuXGmm5R3_N_PPamAX3h3krKOV6tL84CL6FPAn9YezypXSBmMoLJlDIQq/s1600/xmas+bells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBsnsGGxGmzsG8R_8_IKNU_tVYftg8GPG4_cpZrZAshdTHJogYV2wqZye4huzqgYMUxcLSfTwgVfJuXGmm5R3_N_PPamAX3h3krKOV6tL84CL6FPAn9YezypXSBmMoLJlDIQq/s1600/xmas+bells.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><br />
</span>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-13228779193417966312010-12-06T09:28:00.000-05:002010-12-06T09:28:14.442-05:00AwaySkimming<br />
slip-sliding through<br />
skating gliding on by,<br />
beware, speed demon, blurring life<br />
away.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Copyright 2010 JO Janoski</span></span><br />
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</div>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12339846.post-71161378384392833462010-12-02T08:26:00.000-05:002010-12-02T08:26:29.923-05:00Seeing YouLiquid rapture runs<br />
like coffee hot and brewed strong.<br />
Seeing you does that.<br />
Sets my mind to percolate<br />
tastes and smells inviolate.<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright 2010 JO Janoski</i></span><br />
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</i></span>Jo Janoskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09206890846490911655noreply@blogger.com0