like limpid fluid…



Like limpid liquid, Bob Boy poured into the crystal clear dimension where his distinct family awaited him. His limpid clarity illuminated each scribe as his translucent spirit shifted by, see-through music pulsating in the realm of rhythm’s flourishes. Luminous wings fluttered as he passed, feathers reaching out, offering themselves to be carved into quills for the angel master arriving. Colors of the rainbow arranged themselves in bows to the sun. Unclouded resonance settled in the Heavens. Bob Boy was home.

poem by Jeanne Poland April 11, 2019 in memory of Bob’s Passing in Providence RI


Bob in real space


created by Bob Boyajian

Boyajian Alphabet

Alphabet by Bob Boyajian


Enrico Caruso


illustrator: Zafouko Yamamoto

finger painted on

a tablet: angelic cloud

of stars-rays above

Enrico Caruso once said, “[A great singer needs] a big chest, a big mouth, 90 percent memory, 10 percent intelligence, lots of hard work, and something in the heart.”
His records inspired thousands of people to buy their first gramophones, and his were the first records ever to sell more than a million copies. It can therefore be argued that Caruso’s voice was responsible for the beginning of the musical recording industry.

Definition #184 Ars Poetica

An Ars Poetica poem

talks about the art of writing poetry,

presents the poet’s views on what a poem is

and how it should be written.

Tea in Maine

A poem is sound:       Ruth Grierson plays  violin.

A poem is memory:      Scottish jigs & ballads;

A poem is taste:            all kinds of music but rap!!!!!!

A poem is smell:            while we sip English Tea

A poem is a stage:        at the library;

A poem is a story:         hear about:

the ceremonial burning

                                        of old buildings that need replacement
the Fire of 1947;

                                      that stopped when the fireball hit the sea!
the flames brought forth

                                              the aspen, birch and new seeds that burst in the heat!

Mother’s Day


Mother still at 72
Children 36 and 38
Grands at 4 and 2
Pets at 12 and 10.

Like an iceberg
Memory melting
Adrift in changing times
Wide bottom principled.

Seas swirl round
Horns pierce fog
Boats pass leery
Fish respect.

Mother still at 72
Dates to keep
Boundaries to set
Trust to feed and grow.
All rights.

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