art music poetry

On Honesty Poem by Clay Derryberry

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Sadly
honesty is an endangered species
on the plains of human character.
It has been hunted down and
slain like buffalo of the western plains with
arrows of avarice,
bullets sailed from selfish guns,
and fear of hunger and
perceived death.
Too often honesty is sacrificed
on the altar of money, or
embarrassment.

tight rope affair

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a song, written 04-14-04

i know all the moves
i play the game
and it gets to you

you can’t say a word
you can’t move an inch
cause you can’t break the rules

i know what to say
i know what to wear
i know what to do

and it sets you on fire

—

i have to play
on what you like
to see what you can take

and i walk out on to that tight rope
to watch you move and shake

and now you’re stuck there
and so am i
but here is where you quake

but you can’t fall from this wire

we walk a thin line
in our tight rope affair
there’s no net when you’re high
so you better beware

do you know your way down
when you’re in making your moves
and balanced in
your tight rope affair

—

when you’re up on the wire
you feel the fire
and you feel the fear

but you’re filled with desire
you want to go higher
whenever we’re near

what will transpire
with our lives
now that we’re here

what can we do to make us right

—

when we gracefully step
on the paper-thin wire
we’re balancing high

we look to the ground
see a circus of clowns
as we’re touching the sky

now we both tightrope walk
in a deadlock
and I wonder why

why we can’t bring it all into the light

we’re walking a fine line
in our tight rope affair
yeah, you try to act sly
when I know a part of you’s scared

but you know you’ll will try
only if you can bear
what might happen
in our tight rope affair

—

you balance on this twine
in our tight rope affair
cause I know you’ll be mine
yeah, be with me if you’d dare

this love is divine
but it cannot compare
to this rush
from this tight rope affair

—

you know how it feels
in our tight rope affair
our time is surreal
and our bond is rare

we sense this appeal
and it makes us aware
of the risks
in our tight rope affair

***

Education Poem by H. E. Hasben

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All first graders are artists
and then we grade them and
criticize them,
make doodlers of them.
All first graders can sing
and then we grade them and
criticize them,
make hummers of them.
And then we meet,
parents and teachers, to plan
to grade them and
criticize them
for twelve long years.
And then they are educated,
like us, we
hummers, we
doodlers.
It’s a miracle that this
poem is
even here!

***

Memories Poem by Candace Pfau

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Magical Memories

Lovely little memories,
floating through my mind.
Sparkling bits of laughter,
Little drops of sadness,
rainbows full of joy.

Sweetly perfumed memories,
like violets in the grass,
a firefly out of nowhere,
leads me through the past.

Shooting stars are fleeting,
like loved ones long ago.
But they are magical memories,
because we make them so.

Thoughts Poem by Candace Pfau

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Tracing Thoughts

Skywriting my thought’s in
the sky,
I think, your thought’s,
you retrieve mine from power’s on high,
Not a word is spoken but energy
given and energy received.

Million’s of pure thought’s
count as one cosmic prayer,
You spoke, as if you heard
the unspoken,
I answered and sacred energy
flowed between,
Tracing thought’s
So much yet to be seen.