Laugh (A Septet)

Laugh alone

Or laugh with someone

Propel giggles through blank air

Flying, sharing bright joy all around

Make a chorus of laughter

Lifting hearts, happy

Just for now

___

(A Septet--a poem of 7 lines

with syllables as follows:

3,5,7,9,7,5,3)

___

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Vincent & Me

Vincent and Me...


I knew him totally, from the moment I first saw his frenzied expressions. The movement of dazzling colors jumped off the page and wrapped around me with music blaring and energy zapping my heart. I connected. He was there, in the colors, in the strokes, laying his soul bare for all the world to see.

I needed to know more, more about this complicated painter who let his mind loose to echo both his love and angst on canvas in frantic, thick strokes, strokes that seemed to break free of the brush and dash about like ants scattering.

I found copies of his earlier work, back when he was a religious man and preached to poor coal miners. His paintings of them are simple, black figures with bulbous features as blank as their rigorous lives. And yet, he saw their beauty, their grace. He put that elegance to canvas as he watched them work, eat, and live. The gentle heart of Vincent reached out and touched these poor souls in tattered clothing, people any of us might look away from in disdain--he saw their dignity.

Later, he took to colors on canvas to express that old, familiar longing. His palette copied fields and starry skies, friends and himself...even his bedroom, colorful and sturdy with furniture and a bed, and a personality of its own. The strokes are controlled, carefully taking their places to make a masterpiece of form and color. In later paintings, the strokes run wild in frenzied emotion to create unique masterpieces. In total, his works reveal a childish soul seeing life expressing itself in simple vistas and people.

He saw himself as well, painting startling self portraits that map the progress of his mania. At times the strokes take leave of their master and fly off the page as though it took all his sanity trying to contain them.

Vincent suffered from mental illness which chased the artful magic away, pushing him finally to the edge. His haunting self portraits document the path of his troubled mind until finally he took his own life at the young age of 37.


Copyright JO Janoski

On Soft Feet (Annie)

...A nine-square poem

Soft smile blue eyes crowned in blond curls wild

Flowering uncontrolled playfulness

In bouquets of daisies so heartfelt.

She runs on soft feet through deep green grass

Gracefully, childishly scampering

In circles to impress her parents.

Dad lifts her high up to touch blue sky

Lovingly, patiently, peacefully

She giggles and wiggles, curls bouncing.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

LiveScience.com - Why We Have Sex: It's Cleansing

Hmmm, I never really thought of it this way... ;)

LiveScience.com - Why We Have Sex: It's Cleansing

Good Times

You might have missed me blogging for the past week. My excuse is a good one--I have been working our Pittsburgh photo booth in an art show at Monroeville Mall. The shows are slow, and they provide a good atmosphere to settle in with my electronic keyboard and write.

While mulling away the hours, I marvelled at how our "show business" has changed over the years. When we first set up in this mall in 1976, the mall "powers that be," skittish I suppose, of the concept of exhibitors, did not provide electricity for us. This meant we rolled in a car battery on a dolly to hook up to for our lights. It sounds so primitive now!

It was a great era for malls in general. I can remember Saturday crowds being so thick, I would rather scratch out my eyeballs then try to move from Point A to Point B. It just took too long to push through the mob.

The crowds are thin now, as the Walmart effect draws customers to other places for discounted prices. Those loyalists who are left walk past my booth with cellphones stuck to their ears, oblivious to my wares. The impulse buys that are so vital to our sales are hard to come by these days. I guess those cellphone folks are "multi-tasking." Only they have no time these days for looking and buying, only walking and talking. 

I never would have dreamed in 1976 that I would see tattoos and body-piercing either--or shaved heads. Actually, in those days, my electronic keyboard would have been an oddity, and the very idea people owned their own computers would have blown me away. 

I'm certain I won't be here in 30 more years; but if I were, I wonder what amazing things I would see...

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Pittsburgh Song

I see there is a poll at the PG. Listen to five songs and vote your favorite Pittsburgh song:

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette - A & E

Pop-up police

Gee, I wonder if that would work here!
FT.com / World - Pop-up police patrol net in China

Nurse was 'hit with frozen fish'

Shucks! It looks like British hospitals have all the fun!

BBC NEWS | UK | England | Kent | Nurse was 'hit with frozen fish'

The following poem is a villanelle, a six stanza poem with a special rhyme scheme and repeated lines.

FOREST MELODY

Tiny soft gray bird high in a tree

issuing songs like sun rays

Ringing chirps inspiring me.

A call of nature just meant for me

to see and hear of nature's ways

Tiny soft gray bird high in a tree

Rough brown bark of trees to see

caught in the fire of sunny rays

Ringing chirps inspiring me.

Green grass carpets, lush to see

Rainbows of flowers in nature's way

Tiny soft gray bird high in a tree

Soft sweet breezes whisper to me

as leaves rustle through the day

Ringing chirps inspiring me.

A brook composes a melody

while squirrels and chipmunks play

Tiny soft gray bird high in a tree

Ringing chirps inspiring me.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Good Morning File

If you're a dog-lover and a "yinzer" the Morning File is a fun read this morning. I think this guy's got something!

Pittsburgh Post-Gazette - Local News - The Morning File with Peter Leo

A Poem about lingering winter...

* * * 

ISOLATION...

Winter sorrows lurk again

draping me in tight shadows.

Isolation by the fire...

drinking hot cocoa.

Ice and snow propelling me

inside where sun is denied.

Through the pane sun romances...

but I know better.

Outdoors reigns cold, while indoors

my heart is frozen in time,

stopped when summer departed...

leaving me undone.

Spring waiting to start again.

Fresh air breathed on nature's stage,

kaleidoscope of life's hues...

spinning round and round.

--

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Green-glowing pigs

I know these pigs are useful for research, but I shudder to think what their ham/bacon would look like! Kind of pulls the old switcheroo on Green Eggs and Ham.

BBC NEWS | World | Asia-Pacific | Taiwan breeds green-glowing pigs

Ask Yahoo!

Today's Ask Yahoo answers the question, "Who was the 'agony of defeat' guy? What I find amazing is, because he was from behind the iron curtain, he never knew for years how popular he was in the west. Fascinating!

Ask Yahoo!

Fugetaboutit!!!

Would you like to read a really entertaining blog? Stop by "Fugetaboutit" every now or then or better yet, get on his mailing list so you know when a new column is out. I knew I'd like this as soon as I saw the nuns toting guns...
Fugetaboutit!!!

What do you say?...

Does the party have to be over? Okay, the SuperBowl is won. The parade was fabulous! Ben's shaved his beard. There's even been some body-surfing...Now everything is quiet. If you listen really hard, you might hear me way off somewhere...a lone voice: Here we go, Steelers! Here we go! What do you say we sing that for another whole year?         

WE WON!!! 

Why do dogs love to stick their heads out of car windows?

Yahoo with another great answer to one of life's nagging questions:

Why do dogs love to stick their heads out of car windows?

My dog, Peepers, told me the answer is #3. It's way cooler than the other reasons.

Two Books Released in the Wild

at Ross Park Mall and Northway Mall, Pittsburgh

That may seem a strange statement if you are not familiar with BookCrossing.com. I recently registered two proof copies of my latest book, Bridges to Burn. The purpose of BookCrossings is to make the whole world a library with avid readers depositing books in public places to be found, read, and enjoyed. Whoever finds a book is requested to register their find at BookCrossing and then release the book "into the wild" when they are done with it--or perhaps give it to a friend to read and pass on as he/she would like. 

It is an exciting, whimsical process, appealing to the sense of fun and fancy in all of us--to follow the journey of a book from one hand to the next, from one locale to the next. If you've ever heard of WheresGeorge.com, it is the same premise.

So, I released my books at Ross Park Mall yesterday on a bench in front of Children's Palace, and one at Northway Mall on  a chair in the mall area by the restrooms and by the food court. If you find one of my treasures, please read it and pass it on...

BBC ON THIS DAY | 1 | 1952: Test drive for TV detector vans

From "This Day in History":

BBC ON THIS DAY | 1 | 1952: Test drive for TV detector vans

Two thoughts:
1) Does that van remind you of what Al Franken would be likely to drive in his regular SNL skit where he wore the antenna on his head?

2) You have to have a license to watch TV in England???

Singing in the Shower

Ask Yahoo!: "What is it about the shower that makes people want to sing?"

(How did they know about my mildew-stained shower curtain?)

PooGram Calling...

The other day I posted a page that offers "Fecalgrams," and it stoked my curiosity as to how one would write a commercial for such an item. This one is a script for radio:

Sound of a doorbell. A voice:

Delivery Man: Poogram Delivery.

Silence.

DM:  Poogram delivery!

Door opens with a squeak.

Homebody: W-w-what?

DM: Poogram, sir!

HB: A what?

DM: Poogram, sir! From an anonymous donor.

H: Err, what's a Poogram?

DM: Oh, it's your lucky day, sir! A Poogram is a beautifully packaged box of sh...t[beep--CENSOR] delivered right to your door as a gift. If I do say so myself, it is a distinctive gesture.

H: Back up...it's a package of what?

DM:  Sh...t[beep--CENSOR] produced and ready for your enjoyment. We ship poo all over the continental United States and Canada. Ours is the freshest sold anywhere. You can tell by our soft texture and alluring aroma. 

H: Someone sent this to me? Holy sh...errr, I  mean holy smokes! I bet it was my ex-wife, right?

DM: I can't say who it is, sir. Poograms are sent anonymously. But you could send a poogram to your ex-wife. It so easy, just dial 1-888-poo-phew and we’ll get a box of poo off to your ex right away. 

H: Great! What does it cost?

DM: Our Big Sh...t[beep--CENSOR] package is only $50, and our friendly "Quickie Poo" box is $25, a perfect way to let someone know just how you feel about them. And here's some good news--both sizes float.

H: I'll take a quickie poo for my ex wife. She doesn't have to know it's from me, right?

DM: Nope. We never leave sh...t[beep--CENSOR] boxes and tell.  Excellent. But first where would you like me to put this Bigsh...t[beep--CENSOR] package someone sent you. 

HB: Aw, forward that one to her, too. By the way, does it cost extra to set it on fire on her doorstep?

______

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Send a Fecalgram to someone you love 

for Valentine's Day

I use gmail (Google mail), and it picks up words from your letters and matches ads to those words along one side of the gmail window. Today I was talking to a friend about...well, never mind what about...and it showed this particular ad:

The Original Fecalgram

Anonymously send them a box of poop and see their reaction online.

fecalgram.com

It's a real company, folks! I'm not going to tell you about them, though. Go read it for yourself. "Poop flinging has evolved."

In the News...

BBC viewers to pick queen's lunch menu

TV viewers will be deciding on the menu for

Queen Elizabeth's 80th birthday. 

That's a novel idea.

* * *

New Port Authority buses

become poetry in motion

Poetry (well, sort of!) on Pittsburgh buses--

I think it's a great idea. Something to keep 

us occupied in traffic!

Pants Drop in New York

New York Pants Drop

and

Not Everybody Laughs!

In New York, eight pranksters were issued citations for disorderly conduct when they dropped their pants and showed their underwear in a subway station. They are a group called "Improv Everywhere" and it was a stunt intended to make people laugh. More than 160 riders participated in the escapade before the police stopped them. The Improv group claims their intentions are to create scenes of chaos and joy in public places around New York and not to offend.

It seems to me the police in New York have more important matters to deal with than people dropping their pants in the subway...you know, like people dropping in the subway. But then again, many riders may not see the humor in a gang pants-drop. Personally, I would. Do you think that kind of wild prank could ever happen in Pittsburgh?

Vote Here

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski

It's finally finished!

Bridges to Burn

Third Installment in Jo Janoski's Trilogy of Pittsburgh Stories


Available now at lulu.com Print Book or E-Book

Description: Folks in Irma Daltrey's neighborhood are acting more and more suspiciously every day. Her next door neighbor invites a mysterious friend to visit, and across the street a strange trio has moved in, toting cameras. Are they spying on the neighborhood or just engaging in gainful employment? Her life is in chaos beneath a mysterious veil of terrorism. All the while, Irma is left wondering if she is looking for love in all the wrong places. Preview available at lulu.com

YIPPEEEEEE! Here we go, Steelers! 

Poe Gets Roses and Cognac Every Year

For the 57th straight year, a mystery man paid tribute to legendary horror author and poet Edgar Allan Poe by� placing roses and a bottle of cognac on the writers grave in Baltimore, MD., to mark his birthday. How cool is that? When I die, I wish someone would come and place a kolbassy sandwich and a can of Iron on my grave--Burgher style.

 

What happened to William Shatner? 

I noticed William Shatner on the news recently when he sold a kidney stone for charity. Seeing him made me long for the Shatner I used to know. When I was a sweet young thing, I watched him on Star Trek, feeling enthralled by his good looks and command of the role of Captain Kirk. He was suave with the ladies, tough with the bullies--ever ready for a little of the ol' fisticuffs, and in charge, always in charge. Later, when I saw the episodes in color, I loved the way his gold tunic look great with his hair and complexion. That was back when it was his own hair, I add now wistfully.

The Priceline commercials sent shockwaves through me--how could Captain Kirk do commercials? After that, I found him in a variety of buffoon roles, hitting an all time low on Third Rock. Now, even as a lawyer on Boston Legal, his character is still a joke--a buffoon as usual--a higher class, smarter one, but a buffoon, none the less.

I would give anything to see him in a dramatic role, something that pulls from his considerable classical training and leaves deep impressions. Does anyone out there know of a recent Shatner movie or TV part I might enjoy?

Stolen sports car back after 37 years - Jan 18, 2006

Talk about connecting with lost loves!
CNN.com - Stolen sports car back after 37 years - Jan 18, 2006

Doctor's Office...

Yesterday, I spent some time waiting in the doctor's office (orthopedics) with my hubby. I had a workshop assignment to do--a poetic form called a dodoitsu. A dodoitsu is meant to be a Japanese song, written in 26 syllables, lines of 7,7,7, and 5 syllables. Typically, it is about love or something humorous. I ended up writing what I saw and felt at the moment, which isn't so funny, I suppose.

Doctor's Office

Hot, despite white-haired patients

Icicles of silver age 

Inching, uncertain small steps

To see the doctor.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

CNN.com - Study: Ants can teach each other - Jan 11, 2006

CNN.com - Study: Ants can teach each other - Jan 11, 2006

I always thought those little guys were organized! I just knew it! Every spring I engage in a war against the ants. It takes place in my kitchen, and let me tell you, they are worthy adversaries.

This article, though, is making me paranoid. Do you think it's a well-planned conspiracy...the way they go for my sugar?

What does the "YKK" on zippers stand for?

What does the "YKK" on zippers stand for?: "What does the 'YKK' on zippers stand for?"

OH my goodness! I was so excited to find this out. Go look at your zippers--they all have "YKK" on them, I bet. Fascinating!

'nuff said!

This poetry form is called a pantoum. It has a number of recurring lines, called repetons and a distinctive rhyme scheme.

_______

As Winter Winds Blow

Walking a lonely path as winter winds blow

By the dark of night under glistening stars

I think of you in your blazing aura and all you know

About life and love learned from afar

By the dark of night under glistening stars

I follow a path of things unknown

About life and love learned from afar

And wonder when life's secrets will be shown.

I follow a path of things unknown

My heart thump thumps and my eyes glaze

And wonder when life's secrets will be shown

When will the Light show the way through the maze

My heart thump thumps and my eyes glaze

until an orange sun rises in the sky

When will the Light show the way through the maze.

When will I know the answer why

Until an orange sun rises in the sky

I think of you in your blazing aura and all you know

When will I know the answer why

Walking a lonely path as winter winds blow

_____

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

A little wintery poetry!

***

CRYSTALS

Crystals
Chill ice splinters
Chasing me in dark oblivion
Chastising my pink hopeful ways
Chiding me to slash out my last enthusiam
Criticizing my gossamer dreams
Covering me in ice.

A few thoughts at the end of the season in poetry...

January...

Blue eyes, darkened when the lights went out

Stars soaring away in silence

Children's laughter now still

As snow pounds the valley and winds scream

at the end of Christmas

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

 


Staples Anyone?

My habit every January is to stop and take a mental inventory of all my "stuff," then turn around and attack it with intentions of straightening up and throwing out for a clean fresh feeling in the new year.

This year I went even further and bought some huge Rubbermaid totes...and some steel sack garbage bags. The first for things to keep, the latter for JUNK, such as I define it. That's where the trouble begins.

In theory, I am poised and ready to:

1. Clean out anything I haven't put to good use in the last five years, aka JUNK, and

2. Store the leftover so-called items of value in my spanking new Tote containers.

My office is despicable. Books everywhere, stacks of papers! It boasts a full inventory of miscellany like paper clips, pens, and staples. As a matter of fact, I got ten boxes of 5,000 staples each when a store went out of business years ago. I've been holding onto them for a decade. I was thrilled to get the staples, but I'll have to leave them to my descendents because I'll certainly never use 50,000 in this lifetime.

Many of the items I haven't been able to part with in clean-ups past are at this point in time, 20, even 30 years old. Is this a sickness? What does anybody need with pencils from 1980? Perhaps paper that is yellow around the edges deserves a funeral, right? And what about that dusty ruler from grade school? An address book with dead people's phone numbers...who needs that?

I'm hoping I can be firm in my efforts to throw away what isn't useful. It's going to be tough because I am a pack rat. We'll see. Maybe you can help. If you need some staples, give me a call...



Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

 

Lazy Weekend
My personal snooze-fest
and three salutes!

What a nice, easy-going weekend. We watched the ball come down in Times Square on TV. Poor Dick Clark! Salute, fella! I admire the way you came back from a stroke fighting.

Earlier in the day, we went shopping at a dollar store. I bought the funniest pair of slippers. Each foot is a big reindeer head with a funny smile, big eyes, and antlers with gold bells on them. When I walk, they jingle. The slippers make me happy. I think it's because the bells make me think of Christmas.

My next salute goes to Jerome Bettis, just in case he retires next year. But mostly because I think he is the greatest, and I just want to give him a big old salute.

Do you make New Years resolutions? I don't, but I realized today some resolutions are trying to backdoor their way into my psyche. What I mean is, I have some spare time on the computer, and as I surf I'm finding things I think I should do. For example, in one place I read how to set up a system to write on the fly by having a writing kit ready when an odd five minutes present themselves. I think I signed up for a newsletter at that site, like I need another one to read. Then there was the site with a walking program to get me in shape by working my way up to a 30 minute walk everyday. Wow! That was interesting. I signed up for their newsletter, too. Now I'm going to get email every week telling me how much I should increase my walking time each day. Was I crazy? Oooooh, I'm not going to do that! What was I thinking?

Oh well, I'll just put on my reindeer cuties and relax with a good book and make that third salute to me because I look so darn cute in these slippers.



Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

FOOTPRINTS

A poem to finish off the Holiday:

FOOTPRINTS

Tiny footprints
Snow-covered world, early morning
scratches in the white, mark little chickadee steps
at the holy time when the world sleeps and life is but a whisper
while birds scurry.

My Last Blog Before the Holiday...

I think Christmas cooking 

is making me punchy...

*     *     *

My Favorite Foods...and Then Some

Turkey and stuffing, potatoes and peas

Love eating each and every one of these!

Christmas cookies from Mom's kitchen oven!

I feel like I died and went straight to heaven!

But one thing I wish that no one would make

Is that petrified, dry, lousy fruit cake!

*     *     *

Someone on the Rooftop

Santa on the rooftop! HO! HO! HO!

Gifts for everybody! Head to toe!

He'll slide down the chimney, 1, 2, 3

Bringing presents for you and for me!

Sure hope he doesn't get stuck up there,

Between the rooftop and who knows where.

Poor jolly Santa, chubby as can be

Stuck in the chimney for all to see!

We'll push his head down and pull below.

We'll wiggle him and jiggle him just so.

We want our goodies! He's gotta drop

Down with our presents! PLOP! PLOP! PLOP!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Following the Star...

A Christmas Story...

I wrote this a couple of years ago.

It has been one of my favorites.

 David yawned and stretched at exactly the same time as a white fire exploded in the sky. A dazzling trail of sparkling dust bled down from the inferno. Next the core of the burst slowly twirled around and around, with sparks jumping off and rearranging into points around a circle to form a glistening star. It blinked once before pirouetting across the expanse of inky black. The young shepherd stumbled in surprise but grasped harder on his staff to keep upright. The white pulsating light danced across the horizon, beckoning the lad with every blink.

       

 David's heart pounded with such force it was a wonder it didn't burst into a million particles. The star was alive with fire. It telegraphed a message, a familiar one of love...love in its purest, simplest form. The apparition glided across the expanse of black like a sailboat skimming across the water. 

       

 "I've got to follow," the young shepherd murmured. The sheep had settled for the night. He would slip away. Gathering a blanket, the boy glanced at his animals. A lamb slept separately from the rest. Enamored from the start by the tiny creature, he'd given it a nickname, Gentle. He gathered Gentle in his arms and gazed at the sky. The star continued to travel on its glistening path. 

       

 David rushed after it in what turned out to be a half night's journey up and over fragrant grassy hills, until finally he arrived on the dry, dusty road leading to Bethlehem. Moving quickly to keep up, his heart sang on the exhilarating journey. His lungs filled with cool air while the spicy aromas of the countryside tickled his nose. He loved the land in all its aspects.

       

 Father would not be pleased he had abandoned the flock, but an emotion like white fire had overtaken his heart as the starry light led him onward.

       

 Bethlehem proved to be a busy town, as multitudes of travelers wandered in for the census. The Inns were full, and many camped along the road. Children played together as their weary parents prepared makeshift bedding and scoured their supplies for a bit of bread or water. They stared at the intense young man as he passed by. Oblivious to their gazes, David's pounding heart pushed him farther into the tiny city. 

       

 He imagined his father would be exasperated at dawn to find the sheep unattended. David sighed. What kind of life is a shepherd's anyway. Samuel, his friend, made a good living stealing at the marketplace in Bethlehem. With hands like a magician, he could grab up an item and hide it in his cloak before anyone was the wiser. Bringing the items home to the village, the town's people were eager to buy cheaper than they would pay in Bethlehem. Samuel would no doubt someday be a rich man. He had offered to teach young David all his tricks.

       

 "That's what I should do," the boy said out loud, as though speaking the words would make them true. Satisfied with the thought, David barely noticed the star had stopped moving. It pulsated in the sky over a ramshackle stable standing behind a nearby Inn.

       

 His heart's fierce pounding sounded in his ears again. A yearning in his soul pushed him toward the stable. He needed whatever was there, but what was it?

       

 A man, a woman, and a baby, who was nestled in a manger of straw, met his gaze. A cow and two horses lingered in the back, the only sound being the gentle swish of the cow's tail, back and forth, back and forth. What were these people doing in a stable with animals?

       

 The baby opened his eyes and caught David's glance. The little one's gaze burnt with the fiery magic of the star. The baby was the star. 

       

 Cascading emotions rushed David, dropping him to his knees. His heart was in a cacophonous turmoil of love, reverence, and confusion woven together in a pattern of gaudy mismatched hues. His weakened hand lost its grasp of Gentle and the lamb ambled forward to the babe.

       

 The infant's eyes paralyzed David in their light. Who was this child? The boy's heart crashed to the ground as the infant's eyes, with a waver, read his heart and desire to be a thief, like Samuel. The orbs shot to David a message like a whisper. He had a decision to make, to follow the righteous path and be a proper shepherd, or follow the way of dishonesty to acquire material riches. 

       

 Visions of David's flock floated through his mind, and a rush of its sublime and simple beauty wrapped around him like a satin ribbon. He knew he wanted the life of an honest and simple shepherd. All honest work had dignity on God's good earth. On the hillside with the sky and grasses and sheep, he would be close to God. He glanced to the child, and a glint in the tiny eyes reassured him.

       

 David averted his eyes as his soul filled to brimming. Looking up, he nodded to the man and woman. 

       

 "The lamb," he said, nodding toward Gentle. "It is a gift...for the baby. For surely this infant is the lamb of God." 

       

 The woman's smile could light up the entire night sky. David bowed to them and turned to go. The time had arrived for a new beginning, one full of purpose and self-knowledge, and the right path to God. 

       

       

*    *    *

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

A Picture and a Poem

 


A snowy day in Pittsburgh. Just a view from my corner of the world. Taken this afternoon around 2:00 p.m. Temperature outside: 21 degrees.



Now a poem:

THE HOLIDAY

Gold foil wrapped red green ribbons of giggles
Cascades of broad smiles laced with egg nog
Frothy words drowning in red punch
Mysterious packages
Starry tree lights blinking
Kitchen aromas
Brown gravy dreams
No one wants
Fruit cake
Cheers!

 

Here I am again 

with more Christmas poetry...

Christmas Septet

Snowflakes twirl

Stream from ice castles

Announcing time so Divine.

Christmas Eve, a Night with its own Star,

Gleaming in the sky with Joy.

May it bring you Peace.

Holy Night.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

              

The Bashful Swan...

Another Children's Story

from Magic Music Forest

*    *    *

Deep in the forest, a little swan named Wanda lived at a place called Magic Pond. A baby swan with fuzzy, grayish down feathers, her mother and father told her how pretty she was all the time. Wanda never believed them because her feathers stuck out in an unsightly manner. When she got older, she would be prettier, but not now.  Alas, it made her feel bashful. She spent most of her time, all by herself, watching the other birds and animals play. Indeed, at the Magic Pond, fun was guaranteed. How Wanda wished she could have someone to play with, but she doubted anyone wanted to be her friend. 

 

Urging her to be with the other birds and animals, her mother nudged her, "Aren't you going to go and play, Wanda?" 

 

Wanda answered, "No." She preferred to nestle under some plants along the shore and watch the others. A silly goose named Belinda always brought a smile to Wanda's face.  The bird could not swim, but kept trying nonetheless.  The little goose constantly fell head first into the water.  "She is lucky she doesn't drown herself," Wanda thought out loud one day.  

 

"You're right." 

 

The voice startled Wanda, and she turned to see Oscar the Turtle beside her. 

 

"Hello," she said in a little voice. 

 

"You are Wanda, aren't you?" the turtle asked. 

 

"Yes." 

 

"Belinda is sure having a hard time of it, trying to swim." 

 

"Yes. I guess it must be hard for her to do." 

 

"Yes," Oscar replied as he bobbed his head in thought. "It looks as though you have some free time. Maybe you could help her." 

 

"Me?" 

 

"Yes." Oscar leaned closer. "Just between you and me, she told me she really needs help but is too shy to ask anyone." 

 

Belinda was shy! Wanda never considered the fact that anyone other than she might be bashful. Maybe she could help the little goose. Belinda was, after all, bashful just like her! 

 

"Well, what do you think?" Oscar asked. 

 

Wanda ruffled her feathers and prepared to swim over to Belinda. "I think I'll try," she told Oscar. Turning as she swam away, she added, "Thanks." 

 

The closer she came to the goose, the more she trembled. Upon arriving, she stammered, "D-d-do you need some help learning to swim?" 

 

Little Belinda, the goose, looked up in surprise at the swan. "Oh yes! I could sure use some help!" she said. "Errr... if you don't mind."    

 

Well, the two birds became fast friends. Happy she found the courage to offer help to Belinda, Wanda learned a lesson. From that day on, whenever someone made her afraid or bashful, she tried to think of a favor she might do for them. She had discovered a helping hand leads the way to friendship. 

 

_________________________

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

I wrote the following poem for a workshop. 

It is called a Septet 

and the topic was Angels.

*   *   *

NOTES FROM MY ANGEL

Whispering

Soft utterances

Words floating above real time

Disconnected and ethereal

Lifting me, welcoming me 

Love words consuming

Totally.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

Are Burghers Too Principled?

Shucks, Rafe didn't win Survivor!

It happened with Ian last time. He found his integrity, trading the money for friendship with Tom. Bye, bye, million dollars! Now, Rafe decided to be a nice guy and release Danni from their previous pact to take the other to the final two if one of them won immunity at the end. "You don't have to pick me, Danni! That's okay!!" Argh!

Why, why Rafe!!! The burden wasn't upon you to release Danni from the agreement. It was her choice to make on her own. In fact, you made it easier by releasing her from all guilt whatsoever. What a gift!You ended up dumping crap in your own lap when she merely listened to you. Couldn't you be a little more devious, Rafe? If not for you, how 'bout the Burgh? We want our trifecta  of Survivor winners! 

Sheesh, is there something in the water around here?

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

WHITE SNOW PRINCESS...

A quick poem to suit the snowy day...

White snow princess all aglow

Pirouettes across the skies.

Snowflakes from her head to toe

White snow princess all aglow.

Didn't exist moments ago

Came to view in children's eyes

White snow princess all aglow

Pirouettes across the sky.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

The Clumsy Goose...

A story to read to the kids...

                                               

Little Belinda splashed in the water, flailing her wings while lifting her head as gracefully as she could manage. The sparkling water swished under her wings and droplets flew through the air like liquid diamonds, some landing on her head and running into her eye. Stumbling, she plunked head first into the water. The trail of water  had obscured her vision and knocked her off balance. Floundering her way to the surface, she honked in frustration. The poor little goose would never learn to dance for the Magic Pond Water Ballet. On the opposite bank, Sheba and Cleo, the black swans, were swimming side by side in graceful motion, elegant necks poised. The water rippled behind them as though the pretty waves were the finishing touch to their performance. Perfection! 

Belinda went to the shore and settled by her favorite rock. Sadly, the little goose didn't feel like preening, since she didn't feel pretty. 

"You look unhappy, Belinda!" Oscar, the turtle, had climbed up on the rock. 

"I'll never be good enough for the Magic Pond Water Ballet." 

"Why is that?" 

"I'm so clumsy! I don't have any grace or beauty." The little goose sighed. 

Oscar the turtle was a smart fella, and he crawled dismally into his shell to think about his friend's problem. Shortly, he emerged, with his little head poking out of the heavy shell. "You know, Belinda, just because you can't dance, that doesn't mean you don't have other talents." 

"What? I don't have any talents!" Belinda murmured. 

"Yes, you do! You have the most marvelous 'honk!' I bet you could be in the musical section, along with the little birds." 

Belinda pondered Oscar's remark. Yes, she had an expressive 'honk.' That was true. Smiling at Oscar, she replied, "Maybe you are right!"† 

Rushing to the center of the pond, she cleared her throat to begin. 

"HONK, HOOOOONK, HOOOONK!" 

The most beautiful sound ever filled Magic Pond! The other birds gathered around Belinda, in awe of her talent. Sheba and Cleo, the black swans, eased into their most elegant number, dancing to Belinda's music. 

"Hurrah for Belinda! Her honk is the prettiest music of all!" the birds and animals all chanted. 

Thus, a clumsy little goose found her real beauty in an unexpected place, by being herself!

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

I got this in a letter from someone... 

I don't know whom to credit it to...but it is beautiful....

The words speak for themselves...

*   *   *

The true meaning of Christmas

This is how it happened .. I just finished the household chores for the

night and was preparing to go to bed, when I heard a noise in the front

of the house. I opened the door to the front room and to my surprise,

Santa himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree.

 He placed his finger over his mouth so I would not cry out. "What are

you doing?" I started to ask.  The words choked up in my throat,  and I

saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was

the eager, boisterous soul we all know.

He then answered me with a simple statement.

"TEACH THE CHILDREN!"

I was puzzled; what did he mean? He anticipated my question, and with

one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the

tree. As I stood bewildered, Santa said, "Teach the children! Teach them

the old meaning of Christmas. The meaning that now-a-days Christmas has

forgotten."

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it

before the mantle.  "Teach the children that the pure green color of the

stately fir tree remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting

hope of mankind, all the needles point heavenward, making it a symbol of

man's thoughts turning toward heaven."

He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR. "Teach

the children that the star was the heavenly sign of promises long ago.

God promised a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of

fulfillment of His promise."

He then reached into his bag and pulled out a CANDLE. "Teach the

children that the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of  the

world, and when we see this great light we are reminded of He who

displaces the darkness."Once again he reached into his bag and removed a

WREATH and placed it on the tree. "Teach the children that the wreath

symbolizes the real nature of  love. Real love never ceases.

Love is one continuous round of affection."

He then pulled from his bag an ornament of himself. "Teach the children

that I, Santa Claus symbolize the generosity and good will we feel

during the month of December."

He then brought out a HOLLY LEAF. "Teach the children that the holly

plant represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by

our Savior. The red holly represents the blood shed by Him."

Next he pulled from his bag a GIFT and said, "Teach the children that

God so loved the world that HE gave HIS only-

begotten SON .  Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift."

"Teach the children that the wise men bowed before the Holy BABE and

presented HIM with gold, frankincense and myrrh.

We should always give gifts in the same spirit of the wise men."

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on

the tree. "Teach the children that the candy cane represents the

shepherds' crook. The crook on the staff helps

to bring back strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane is the symbol

that we are our brother's keeper."

He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL. "Teach the children that it

was the angels that heralded in the glorious news of the Savior's birth.

The angels sang 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good

will toward men."

Suddenly I heard a soft twinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out

a BELL. "Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the

sound of  the bell, it should ring mankind to the fold. The bell

symbolizes guidance and return."

Santa looked back and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw that

the twinkle was back in his eyes. He said, "Remember, teach the children

the true meaning of Christmas and do not put me in the center, for I am

but a humble servant of the One that is, and I bow down to worship HIM,

our LORD, our GOD."

Having fun in December!...

A little poem about snow...

DANCING ON TOES

White lacy sprinkles painting below

Glistening, twirling, angels twinkling

Graceful in slippers dancing on toes

Snowy flake angels hushing, sprinkling

Glistening, twirling, angels twinkling

More slipper steps, joining from afar

Snowy flake angels hushing, sprinkling

Angel chorus, sky white with stars

More slipper steps, joining from afar

Graceful in slippers dancing on toes

Angel chorus, sky white with stars

White lacy sprinkles painting below

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski 

A little poem for the Holidays!...

It's Christmastime!...

It's Christmastime!

Oh! To be six again, wide-eyed and full of fun!

When Christmas was an explosive occasion for one!

The world revolved around me in glitter and stars

Dazzling gifts and goodies, stories from afar.

The morning was spent ripping at paper and bows

Amidst laughter and giggles and plenty of rows,

Fighting over toys, but it was all just in fun.

Quiet came at last, when the presents were done.

Then off to church on a snowy winter morn

To pay tribute to the holy child this day born.

The stable was there, draped in the aroma of pine.

Oh! That smell! So much a part of Christmastime!

The people were all gathered, heads bowed to pray

But the children all twinkled inside on this day.

Home soon to cinnamon and sugar, color and toys,

It's Christmastime! Magic time for girls and for boys.

Copyright 2005 JO Janoski