The gist of being Februist

Is it Februist to pen about pain-
Loves counter-refrain
Let's all complain!
That, my dears is the gist
of being purely Februist

And of amethysts
shaped by six packs
clustered quartz
like opinions
and craggy dominions
add it to the list
of being Februist

Golden locks too soft
lead too, hard as nails
too hot, too cold,
too much, too little
love and hate
soul mates
Valentined and kissed
You guessed it, this
is also Februist

So Life is a box
of chocolate filled
surprises and sentiments
to be tasted and tested
swallowed and spit out
notes to nibble on
Though the gifts we tend
to doubt
are the sweetest,
Yes, as the skepticist is
Februist

Only tiny truths, gnats in the know,
bugs in rugs and ermine expectations
make rime in time to thaw
trickle down pains
theoretically and say
in thirty ways from May,
time Marches on
gripes and grouse
when a Februist
storms through your House.

Image By Josephbanjo (Own work (Photo personnelle)) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Rose with rime.

Counting Elephant Leap Years

That elephant over there,
kneels on the keystone,
reciting a thousand names
that run together.
Vedic sounds coated red,
through lucid mists
he said he stands
for love-
in thirty-two ways,
in twenty-nine days.

As it is customary
for February,
to drop in on dreams
and sow fertile desire
where wild light will
cast an epic tragedy.

When love grows,
that one over there named
Ganesha, strokes his rats hair
and dances on the tips
of his round toes,
spinning his chakras
and juggling icy hearts
he freezes a moment
with potential, spouting 

prisms of inertia

retracting all the
matterless time

resting on balance.

Strands of helmikuu,
pearly wisdom hung
around your neck,
possess and strangle
with the charm of love.
Toxic lust set in an 

amulet of broken trust.

Ganesha says Love 

cannot survive the possibility 

of a  moonless month.
He comes to say,
only February has space
and time to give and gets
to jump all over juxtapositions

of weight and gravitate in

centripetal passion.

Crucified by greed, 

immaterial layers; 

the rose, crystallized rocks.
His trunk is too full
to maintain refrain or 

balance on shaky propositions
only to land on sharp ultimatums.
Peircing reality, I fell hard.

I was left alone with red.
Ganesha left the room.
It was all a dream,
I saw upon waking
my blue body still aching.

I kept the pretty pearls.

Image painted by elephant in Thailand, uploaded By Deror Avi (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html), CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Feature image (top) By Udunuwara at English Wikipedia (Transferred from en.wikipedia to Commons.) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Finicky February

No primal forecast
of biblical lions and lambs
but peaking out of the burrow
beheaded in hibernation
Phil is drug
tail first
-wait-
On the 2nd
He doesn't care, he belongs to
Fickle February

No! Do Not Come In
bearing scentless roses
oblique and obligated
as the date is so stated
candlelight of lights refrain
women and wine stain
invisible ink made black and blue
and more blue than black (again)
Fickle February

Throwing rocks around
sweetening the deal
secret tokens and trading cards
diamonds and chocolate
She's a shape-shifter of melted ice
requiring rosy reliquaries of romance
Fickle February

Jacaranda's and Apple Blossoms
White winter Jasmine
Witch-hazel Sweet-box
all brazenly in bloom
icy appeal of a happy tree boughs
skeleton limbed bones poking thru
mimicking the mockingbird's song
Fickle February

Happy and hopeful
singing into spring
wallowing in winter
disappointments dashed
rekindled by revenge
which counts the ways
of these 20 something days
Fickle February

Rain and sun with snowy flowers
mystical manners
of this monthly matter made
Sinners and Saints
Lovers and Loners
a figment of our fabrication
Fickle February