We call it adult humor
Dressed like late night intellect
But the joke is just a cheap dare
We clap like it’s profound
We claim it’s edgy commentary
Wrapped in clever phrasing
But it’s really playground bravado
Posing as sophistication
We say it’s mature wit
Served with craft beer confidence
But it’s just petty mischief
Wearing a grown up voice
We insist it’s highbrow comedy
Sold as cultural insight
But it’s thin skinned teasing
Masquerading as satire
We pretend we’ve evolved past childishness
Framing jokes as worldly wisdom
But the truth is embarrassingly simple
We never stopped laughing at the easy stuff
As we lay prostrate
Tabula rasa-blank page
Word play we engage
Sleight of hand we write
Together with tongue magic
Comic and tragic
Poetic dual
Like the bards of Vienna
We've burnt sienna
We foster and play
With our words and our phrasing
Not mean, not praising
We engage with rhyme
Each other's druthers, "Respect!"
To urge, not neglect
Sometimes we flirt and
Sometimes we fling dirt, but me
Cajolery, you
Sully the bully
Flatter, not as indicters
We are cowriters
So in this haiku
I don't offer you some prose
But hand you a rose
Anticipation ends
as creation begins
Before chasing the words
you must first know the wind
Direction predestined
on zephyrs ordained
Each gust but a phrasing
of verse unproclaimed
A breeze or a tempest
in a cyclone of hail
In sunshine or clouded
they come to regale
Those moments that matter
that time would suspend
Once spoken eternal
— and Aether defends
(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)
Downwind
of my perception
Upwind
before the fall
Immune
in my protection
From dullards
at the mall
The past
remains in focus
The future
but a myth
My words
fall out of judgment
Each phrasing
to enrich
To read
with understanding
To hear
beyond the din
To feel
beyond the senses
To love
beyond the rim
Released
without containment
On wings
not leased or loaned
Into
the inner sanctums
With time
— Goliath’s stone
(The New Room: June, 2025)
an
instinctive
voice
of
formative
lyricism
with
warmth
&colour
extensive
reflective
phrasing
exemplified
with
wistful
nostalgia
blissful
echoes
of
introspection
in
waves
of
comptemplation
The curse of the writer
woo’s angels and devils
Chasing the daylight
far into the night
Each phrasing an omen
of hope or foreboding
With lines that entangle
— in lost delight
(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)
My bars the words, the prison guard my verse,
Rattling the staves of this poetic cell,
I struggle vainly, locked up in this jail.
Yea, thus is my predicament, my curse.
Oh, how jealously, you smirking blank verse,
I look upon what freedom guides your quill;
For formal phrasing does of me compel
Stubborn structures—the styles which I rehearse.
But, boldy bumbling, art is now arising!
Walls becoming my score, and tallies tones, ?Confined to meter, bound by rigid rhyme,
I yet find measures full of surprising
Motifs. The modern poet at sonnets groans,
But I, I do believe they’re quite sublime.
Say, dig what I say
Talkin’ bout a new jazz vibe/
Man, move over/
the Jazz Cookers are hittin’ their stride in the groove to stay alive/
Eddie Henderson/
Cecil McBee/
George Cables,Billy Hart
and Billy Harper/
swingin’ harder jazz be flying/
downbeat, upbeat, man, count It off/
their soul auras are in the jazz notes they play/
David Weiss and Donald Harrison are fryin’ their amps/
burnin’ the house down/
with the jazz club scene in decline/
and record labels cuttin’ back on jazz/
the jazz Cookers have to stay alive and relevant in a jazz-changing world/
so dig, be cool struttin’ as Sonny Clark would say/
you might not always get a payday but you love to play/
the Cookers boss horns are on fire/
hip tones blowin' from the stage/bro, this is the jazz life you chose and after a gig, you might be all alone/
so be in the moment and improvise on your jazz note phrasing/
you’ll find the rhythm and meaning knowing you can play the same note gig after gig night after night/
but different every time/
are you hip to the Cookers?/
they will have you finger poppin’ and blowin' your mind/
wahoo that’s a whole lotta jazz
Compositions in G minor softly weep,
In somber tones where shadows often creep.
O heart of mine, in sorrow's time,
The violin, with range both vast and wide,
Evokes emotions deep, where sorrows hide.
From haunting beauty to a grief profound,
Its notes sustain, with vibrato’s rich sound.
O heart of mine, why do you sigh?
An instrument for feelings deep and grand,
It speaks of heartache with a trembling hand.
A skilled performer brings the soul to light,
Infusing music with emotions tight.
O heart of mine, why do you cry?
Their technique crafts a story, pure and true,
Where every note holds meaning, old and new.
With careful phrasing, dynamics in play,
The violin can steal your breath away.
O heart of mine, feel the refrain,
Its voice, a mirror to the heart's own cry,
Creating worlds where deepest feelings lie.
polyphonic
in voice
&sound
homphony
phrasing
in
simultaneous
rhythms
of
orchestration
Chagisite or helium3
mined for the future of
the World. Poor people
grunted hearing the report
while the wealthy
smiled and had dreams of
extraction
and manufacturing
"his smile was so wide
it made a noise"
2 protons and one neutron.
asphyxiant potental in the energy field
radioactive isotope is ideal fuel for the
operation of a fusion reactor
fusing helium-3 with deuterium.
"burst of energy
to power reactors
reactors to move and create energy!"
Houtermans and Rutherford
Sceince of creation
dynamics, phrasing and articulation
TIIAY=yaiitorYAIIpolledsar rating
phrasing can...
free
excess words...
from a
mental reflection...
that frames
a summation of...
thoughts wrt
all senses at once...
stan sand
SENSITIVITY
a
universe
of rhythms
encourage
urgency
to revelation
in
a sequence
a substitute
for
emotion
balanced
&self-contained
versatility
action
without
disruption
meditation
shaped
by
phrasing
modest
utility
unguarded
& fruitful
I wrote a song for someone
She knows by name just who
It's not a dedication
Not this, this one's for you
It took some time to finish
But that's only because
If you rush you can dimish
The meaning, so you just pause
When you reach that dreaded moment
Every artist does despise
Looking at a blank slate
Staring back with blanker eyes
There are no words to sing to
No lyrics to peruse
It's only instrumental
But still my thoughts infuse
And fill each note and phrasing
Nothing there by chance
In quiet contemplation
I composed for you this dance
I hope you'll always like it
And listen now and then
Remembering I loved you
Each time it's played again
It is warm for these summer golden days.
Fruit is plentiful, before it decays.
Home fruit canning in the kitchen a blaze.
Mason jars and lids are sterilizing,
Pears, peaches, and apple organizing.
Cooking the fruit down, straining, and sizing.
The scrumptious smells that reach out amazing;
The flowing heating steam ever raising.
Appetizing canning labels phrasing.
Clean and back in their places and no trace,
Of utensils, lids and pots in their space.
A smile of finish in the kitchen's grace.
Sub Categories
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