Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Fraser Melvin Blues Band

Specified lunged talent who look 19 or something.
Rolling and bellowing the soul of B. B. King,
Half the size and the other side of bluesy chocolate. 
In this moment, in the moment of mega producing talent,
Rock bands 
All bands,
These kids - these adults - these idols.
Wearing a Blue Jay baseball cap
Sweating stains and jerry curls.
They are larger than the music lines
Stringing notes in our throats.
His version is larger than the stage.  His music is toe tappin' and cherry snappin'.
twang boom crash swish swish
Chorus lines singing into 1930's microphones. 
In this hipster bar filled to the brim
Everyone is thirsty
Everyone drinks their conversation and melody.
Shake it. Shake it. Shake...It. 

Casbah in CWood, November 12, 2011

Finerminds & Happiness

The importance of an authentic work place smile.
For more wellness and professional development links, click on

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Christmas Card 2011. Email: for Details!!

First. 10x10 Stretched Canvas. Fine Black Ink. 1.5 Deep Canvas, Image Wraps, top and bottom.

Moody. 10x10 Stretched Canvas. Fine Black Ink. 1.5 Deep Canvas, Image Wraps, top and bottom.

October. Artist Original Print. 16x20. Watercolour Paper

November. Artist Original Print. 16x20. Warm, Untextured Paper

Early December. 15x20. Fine Black Archival Ink on Canal Jute Paper


The days are lying on the roadside lawn.
Melting stems, navels of the Earth,
Exposed day-light, yet out of sight.
These somber melons wasting away -
These spoils of melons
Leaking over you, nourishing tanned
Resident-glow fingers,
Dripping quickly
One by one,
Excusing the blind and their fingers.
You lick and they lick,
Stubbing toes on the earth
Walking blind.

Copyright PomonaLIFE, 2013, all rights reserved

Monday, November 28, 2011

Out of context, Quote of the moment:

"Smoke screen charm can be very tense."
- Elizabeth Taylor, The V.I.P.s



Absent friends walk with me to the lake’s edge 
as we hold onto the air singing to ourselves.
We glide over loose rocks
finding paths we made in secret so long ago.
I close my eyes and feel for finger branches that comb through my hair.
I remember the friends who followed me here 
like dragonflies casting shadows and flighty silhouettes. 
When we had all weekend to play
when we were children.
When we could shake off anything.


Sunday, November 27, 2011

Art Show

"What do I have to do?" She looks around the room, folding her thumbs into her fingers as if she's knitting something imagery. 

People are pouring through the front door, either because it is raining outside or because they know something she does not.

He looks at her and smiles, "Exhale."


Saturday, November 26, 2011


Bridging accents
Mixing time, 
Vinyl spinning, I will carry you.
Something is old, something is blue,
And all our time is borrowed.

Creative exhaust are in these burnt pages of history’s loss
Leaving paths of busted stuff.
Nimble fingers, plucking strings - 
I will listen as long as you let me.
In a retribution of scars the heat is all we have.

Teach me how to educate high above the curl
You and your notes,
Nimble fingers plucking strings,
I will carry you.

{Written by: Andrea Currie}


Addy smokes too much and drinks his father’s
Eighty-dollar scotch like lemonade.
He crinkles his skin when he smiles.
Someday he’ll crack like peanut brittle.
We are our sugary selves,
Bees playing in honeycomb
The texture of confection -
Today I am red candy, raspberry jube
With the wings of ice, cooling lemonade.