February may be short but it's the worst month.
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Another February
It's a non month
that takes me from winter
to early spring.
It sneaks in,
like a mousey spinster,
barren and lonely,
mostly ignored
and then hurries
back to whence it came.
It is the worst month,
dark and dismal,
neither here nor there,
never thought about,
except for its rain.
February, poor February,
its only redemption
is it is swift
and goes quickly on its way.
poem by Ruth Walters
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February
February’s time is short,
But it’s my first resort.
Filled with chocolates, flowers and cheer,
It’s my favorite month of the year.
I love how each day shines
As they spread forth with valentines.
It’s a month dedicated to love
In this world of push and shove.
So stop and think of what really counts,
Like people and times that are small amounts,
But give your life meaning like February...
Fill your days with love so make them merry.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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February
February,
a short, dull month
always over
before its begun.
It is the middle child,
mostly ignored,
never spoilt
or fussed over
or the ghost train
we see
from the platform
where we wait.
It chugs through
real slow
but nonetheless
we miss its name.
February is my sister,
how I feel
when ignored in queues
these days,
overlooked
for younger models
with smooth faces
and golden tans.
Feburary is a firework
made damp by
the mists
in winter.
It fails to ignite
every year
but is always
close to pay day.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Hooray February!
I love February
because it’s a brewery
of chilly winter
and sunny warmth.
I love February
because it isn’t a cocky first;
but only a modest next
like how I always prefer
taking a second row chair.
Likewise my car, hello,
is not a Uno, but an Alto!
I love February
because it’s the baby
of the promising January.
And with that promise
February bears March
with all its vernal vibrancy.
I love water, aqua:
It’s the spring of life.
I love February
because I am an Aquarian.
I love February
because the holy water eponymous
purifies me and makes me vigorous
a la
Februa
the great Roman festival.
I love February
because it’s doughty,
has the will to survive:
From a long monthless limbo
to the twelfth place
then to the second
in the calendar -
it was a saga of freedom fight
in the hoary history of time.
I love February
because it’s a month of lovely violets
of diverse hues and scents galore
and
of amethysts that keep you sober.
I love February
because it’s the one month
that determines the leap
or otherwise of a year
shortie it is though.
They malign February as ‘hollow’ and ominous.
Don’t fib, I reply, it is ‘full’ and luminous:
I work for twenty eight
and get paid for thirty one.
Then isn’t it ‘full’?
No triskaidekaphobe,
I love the thirteenth
for it symbolises
the eternal crusade
against superstition
and discrimination.
God loves it too
for He has made the date
a rendezvous
of countless events
no less happy than any other.
I love Feb thirteenth
because I came into this world
on that unique date.
For me it’s always the first.
In their nineties and seventies
still going strong
on me shower my parents
a golden pot of blessings full.
Long live Februarians!
Long live humanitarians!
[Feb 11,2009: : Hyderabad - 500 056]
poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
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More on March
March, that in-between month,
like a woman turning hot and cold,
not wanting to commit.
March is a b.itch.
Can't say I'm impressed by March
but prefer it to February,
that non month, best ignored,
or gotten over with real quick.
March is a better month than that,
nearer to Spring
as evenings grow warm
and girls do their thing.
Kicking and screaming
I step back from a December dawn.
Time marches on
as old age beckons.
Damn it, I will not wrinkle.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Worst And The Best
in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst
poem by Charles Bukowski
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This Fabruary
This February took me to the frosts,
Experienced me by heavy snowstorms,
Wanted to know how much my love costs.
But…I was laughing boldly.
Happiness can't live lonely.
I warmed myself by this verity.
This February tried to cool my heart,
It wanted us to live forever apart.
But…it forgot: March will be a start.
It tried to ice-bound my feelings,
To reveal my longings and likings
Drawing its beautiful paintings.
It tried to show me the ring,
It cried: Forget the spring!
I am the only one! Your king!
It showed me the pictures of the past,
It wanted to say: Love do not last!
All events finish so fast!
I thought: Dear February, you are strange!
The spring will take its revenge!
The whole world will be changed!
You can frighten me, you cold month!
But I will always dance, having a chance!
In Spain under the rain and even in France.
At last this February took Mersey on me.
Tomorrow it promised to let me free.
It was also tired showing minus degree.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
The 14th of February,2012
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Xmas In February
Sam was lyin in the jungle
Agent orange spread against the sky like marmalade
Hendrix played on some foreign jukebox
They were praying to be saved
Those gooks were fierce and fearless
Thats the price you pay when you invade
Xmas in february
Sam lost his arm in some border town
His fingers are mixed with someones crop
If he didnt have that opium to smoke
The pain would never ever stop
Half his friends are stuffed into black body bags
With their names printed at the top
Xmas in february
Sammy was a short order cook
In a short order black and blue collar town
Everybody worked the steel mill
But the steel mill got closed down
He thought if he joined the army
Hed have a future that was sound
Like no xmas in february
Sams staring at the vietnam wall
Its been a while now that hes home
His wife and kid have left, hes unemployed
Hes a reminder of the war that wasnt won
Hes the guy on the street with the sign that reads
Please help send this vet home
But he is home
And theres no xmas in february
No matter how much he saves
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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July....
July is the month where the families get the barbeque grills fired up.
July is the month where the night sky is light up with fire works.
July is the month where many families go out of town to be with family.
July is the month where many kids are dreary because it’s a month away for school.
July is the month where America gets to celebrate its independence from England.
July is the month where many people are dying of the heat of the summer.
July is my favorite month because it’s the time that I get to be myself around my family.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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Short but sweet
Short but sweet
February is short in duration
Perfect time for and relations
No need to think and put any equations
Simple answer for right questions
The mild air flows in one direction
With message of love for action
Birds make noise and invite you
Enjoy the love of its kind through
Flowers too do not leg behind
Lovely colors with them to find
Roses with pink and yellow
Say with smile and hello
Move with time and feel pleasure
Something to think about lovely nature
Love to invite and love to enjoy
Pleasant month to be spent with joy
See in my eyes and speak little
Whisper in ears and invite to settle.
I have waged a beautiful battle
Now turn it into heaven and do not scuttle
Do you love anybody?
Have you given feelings to somebody?
If not then think it right now
Way is open to do when and how?
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Worst Comes to Worst
(Babu mixing)
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst...come.....to worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst come...to...worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
(Evidence talking)
Yeah
It's goin down y'all
That's Babu
Yo
song performed by by Dilated Peoples from Expansion Team
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it isn't wintry in January then expect the worst in February.
When New Year Comes
When New Year Comes
Everybody Shivers
In the month of January
Which is cold and Airy
In February winter get’s Weary
Prepares for Leaving
Paving way for spring to come
In the month of March
Flowers loom Large
April comes
Summer knocks on the Door
When May comes,
Sun Brightens
Mangoes ripe and Juicy
Long hot days
Make June very tiring
Holidays for Children
All wait for Rain
Monsoon at its Peak
When July arrives
Rain brings Smile
August is the month of Freedom
Sometimes sticky sometimes Hot
In September one feels
Better then August
We call it Autumn
One see’s Flowers
Which are colourful and Rosy
October is the festival Month
Weather is good
Winter getting Ready
November makes everybody Happy
Everybody enjoys
Lights of Deepawali(Festival of Light)
In the Cold month of December
Christmas celebrated
Throughout the the World
Everybody says goodbye to the year
Welcomes New Year
On the night of 31’st December
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Is that spring going to come?
When March was sleeping, two other
Gentlemen began rather
A heated argument. The 1st
Was April, the 2nd, of course,
Was May. So, April and May
Were both crying that the main
Month of spring was… Guess which one, but
Although March was in the hut
(Number 2, there’re four huts all
In all) , you should choose April or
May. April said, “It’s my time when
Snow-drops begin to bloom, and
Everyone can feel spring’s come.”
“Ha-ha! ” laughed May and added, “Some
Snowstorm, and no one can
See your tiny snow-drops. When
I rule nature, all the trees are
In blossom and bushes too! ”
“But
Unless I melted snow, they
Couldn’t blossom, my brother May, ”
April objected.
“Unless I…
Wow! You can melt snow, guy!
So, it isn’t the sun that
Does it! ” mocked May.
“I can laugh at
Your conceit, May. For example, March thinks
You and June are as like as two peas, ”
April said.
“ I don’t care, ”
May replied, “A brown bear
Sleeps less than this sleepyhead! ”
“Are
You about my best friend March? ”
Somebody cried outside, and
February came in. “Well, when
Is he gonna wake up? ” he said.
“Answer one question, and we’ll let
You wake him up, ” April and May
Stopped February on his way
To March’s bed, “Which of us is
The main spring month? Feb, tell us, please! ”
“What a question! No doubt,
It’s March. Until he gets out
With me, spring won’t begin, and
Winter will continue more than
Ninety days. But I’m not gonna
Work any longer. I wanna
Enjoy my holiday. Now
Let me wake him. Oh! How
Long I’ve been waiting for it! ” cried
February, but at the sight
Of their faces he laughed, “What’s
Happened? Ha-ha! You think it was
A bad idea to ask me,
Don’t you? ”
“We’ll never agree
With you! ! ! First of all March is your
Friend! ” April waxed indignant.
“First? ”
February smiled, “And what else?
Time’s flying! ”
“Nobody says
You and March differ too much! ”
It was May, “And… And there is such
A thing as politeness, if you
Talk with a host! ”
“If I should
Forget about March because
He’s sleeping, I can’t. Well, I’ve lost
My patience! If you wanna be
The main, you can be, but let me
Wake March as it isn’t a leap
Year now! My time’s up! Keep
On arguing but without
Us as we’re getting out! ”
February caught his sleepy friend,
Then said, “Bye-bye! ” and out he went.
poem by Konstantin Ananin
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February Has Returned To Normal
After a week of summer sun
February returned to normal.
Grey skies to the horizon
and a light falling rain.
It is the February
that we all know so well,
and the sunshine
while it lasted
was an unexpected bonus to us all.
15 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Show Tune II
That's the long and short of it
now you know
how I've been waiting all these years
where I'm coming from
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
just how hot hot jazz was
how it turned about, my bookcase
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you know
that my arrest record's
not my best record
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
how the Past's like a love
you can neither leave nor live
that's the long and short of it
That's the long and short of it
now you know
it was no gun in my pocket
it was a rocket
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
and you're wond'ring dear
how I kept so pure
hull, it was easy
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
now you see
so bounce your head
into bed
that's the long and short of it.
That's the long and short of it
read the blues
in these tattoos
make a song of it
that's the short and long of it.
How I wish
there was a bridge-
then I could burn it;
or the train
of a refrain
then I could board it
but there isn't
no there isn't, so...
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Medley: Hallelujah / Last Month Of The Year
(l. cohen/traditional)
Hallelujah was originally contained in leonard cohen's various positions, while last month of the year is a blues traditional. on the cd booklet this song is credited only as hallelujah.
I heard there was a secret chord
That david played and it pleased the lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this :
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrough ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Baby i've been here before
I've seen this room and i've walked this floor
I used to live alone before i knew ya
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not some victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do ya
But remember when i moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah
Well, maybe there's a god above
But all i've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah,
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
[and here starts last month of the year]
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Tell me what month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, january, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh yeah
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
What month was jesus born in
Last month of the year
Got january, february, march oh lord
Got april, may and june lord
You got july oh but
September, october and november
Got the twenty fifty
December is the last month of the year
(thank you melbourne)
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Original - Time, My Worst Enemy
Time, My Worst Enemy
Keeping me away from you
Time, My Worst Enemy
Moving slowly when we’re apart
Time, My Worst Enemy
Fleeting when you are near
Time, My Worst Enemy
Battling with it daily
Time, My Worst Enemy
Stealing moments from the clock
Time, My Worst Enemy
Until you are in my arms again
Time, My Worst Enemy
Rapidly chasing us down
Time, My Worst Enemy
He will not take you this time
Time, My Worst Enemy
You are in my arms to stay
Time, My Worst Enemy
Has Lost!
Dweezil and I are going on tour with the band probably starting in the middle of February for a month probably playing a few songs from my new record and then I'll continue on after that tour.
August....
August is the month for kids it’s the last few weeks of freedom before a new school year begins.
August is the month where many parents are excited that its here cause they don’t want their kids home alone.
August is the last month before fall begins.
August is the only month that has fewer holidays than most months.
August is the month where most teens are happy because it means that it’s the last school year for most.
August is the month that I really don’t care for but I also like as well.
poem by Natasha Ligons
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