Posted by: janetleigh | March 28, 2015

You. finito.

soon to reign in the scrap pile
of don juans & gigolos…………(cara mia)
finally the finale…………………..(finito).

Once a time
moment in time…………………..( ahh.. memento)
when your facade played the room
to every dance face smiling by
your propensity to infidelity & lies
took them from ballroom girl-of-a-whirl
inside your world of bar room girls
the price they paid was total

I am a whisper
a throaty whisper
which visits your ear, to echo
throughout your mind
No. You shall not forget me.
My image, well engraved
creeps behind your eyeball
flashes itself upon that screen
of your closed eyelid
at any time
to remind you

Once upon a time

when you were king
full of know-it-all-ledge
king-on-the-mountain…….(king of sin)
carnal………………………………(per favore)
known for baiting……………(cleverly waiting)
on ballroom to bar room girls
you rode them Ferris wheel called Never Stop
now your Muses in their ring-side seats
watch your final act upon the heap

aging, albeit at the top, mediocrity

First published on 11.14.07
Rev. 11.30.07; 3.28.15


Posted by: janetleigh | January 17, 2015

National Readathon Day, 1pm-4pm, Jan. 24, 2015

Join Readathon Day.
Jump-start imagination,
seize a good book!

National Readathon Day info

Posted by: janetleigh | March 20, 2014

Private eye

Feeling without

	feeling alone

	lost in wondering
		found asunder,

	learning to look inward
		for outward signs,

				a pupil,
				too close
				for comfort,
				silent screaming,                              

							forever touchless.
Posted by: janetleigh | March 15, 2014

In the moment

In the moment;
while being one with nature
our soul is quickened.

Posted by: janetleigh | March 15, 2014

Ides of March

Ides of March will loom
in Our Times for world-corrupt,
as a bad omen

for unchecked power,
rules can change: see Human Spring.
Action speaks louder

than words ever did.
Caution: Do not mock freedom-
fighters will prevail;

rogue orders obeyed,
thine ovis Idulius,
invite casualties.

Posted by: janetleigh | February 2, 2014

Eva Cassidy birthday remembrance


I heard an angel sing,
my silver chord affirms
this; a voice so sweet
so pure, no crystal known
could ring as clear,
nor take the soul so far
from earth, or all the pain upon it.

This voice sang through,
this voice rang true,
country jazz or bluesy blues
she sang them all,
she paid her dues,
made strong men cry too.

I heard this angel sing,
my silver chord affirms
this; so-tall Georgia trees
abloom sunlit breeze
her bridge too far
for silver birds to fly,
her troubled waters all gone by.

I think willows weep now

sway mournfully, whisper
eva eva eva, we grow so high
to shade you so,
if only through the thicket
you would go once more.

I heard this angel sing,
my silver chord affirms
this; eva knew misery
and merriness run through
man, yet had no bridge
across troubled waters – and
her courage – all women giving birth.

We’ll remember you as you sang us
through fields of barley


These falling leaves drift past
my window, I hear you
in every color red green

and gold.

I swear, eva, if I had
a wonderful world to give you,
I could never weave one as fine
as you have done,
it takes a journeyman to portray
life’s rainbow design, and
your heartsong rings through it.

All rights reserved © Janet Leigh

In Loving Memory of
Eva Cassidy 1963-1996

You will always be remembered, Eva.  A sweet soul such as yours comes but once in a century, yet lives on eternally as love never dies.  Love lives as close as the nearest heart, yet reaches into the highest heavens; love blooms anew in every thought of you.  You are greatly missed, Eva.

*A poem collage of selected songs on Eva Cassidy's Live at Blues Alley CD.
**Credit for songs of various artists in poem collage: Paul Simon - Bridge Over Troubled Waters; Buffy St. Marie -
Tall Trees in Georgia; Sting - Fields of Gold; Traditional - Golden Thread.
Posted by: janetleigh | December 12, 2013

Silencing Baa-Baa

As liberty dies
so the voice which upholds it
silence itself.

The rights that were left,
lawlessness killed them on sight;
left no hope behind.


Posted by: janetleigh | November 24, 2013

November 23, 2013


Red-head woodpecker:
Fall has a subtle language
spoken in colors.


Posted by: janetleigh | November 15, 2013

The Red Line

The elite never
put their lives on the Red line.
Well, not the first one.


Posted by: janetleigh | November 12, 2013

Outside my window
Wildlife has the sense
to know where true kindness lives;
seeks its safety there.

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