Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Princess

PRINCESS,

Thoughts you will never know.

There are some, who get to see their dreams
live them, know their reality.

There are those, who never see those dreams,
nor care to become a part of them.

There are some, who's reason for living,
is to try and dissipate the essence of anther's dreams.

There are those, who are souls that become,
a spot light, shinning brightly upon other,s dreams.

There are some, who love nothing more than be a part,
of positive dreams - other's and their own.

There are those, who's lives, their dreams,
are not but nightmares in the light of their days.

B.J."A" 2

September 27th 2009

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Incomplete ! with out you .

Incomplete, Unsung Songs

Many have been the rhymes, many lyrics for you.
In the dream, you create the theme's tunes, they come through.

Within them, could have been the birth of many a beautiful song.
Many a hit written to carry us - together - along,
into a future where nothing would go wrong,
nothing - that is - that could break the heart of this song.

Then lucidity came to this dreamer, an awakening shone,
a light !, a reality lies before, - not the dream - it lives on

into the waking hours, - what is known - it is all gone!

How does one shut down ?, close that door ?,
feel the pain, the heart ache never more.

B.J."A" 2


September ( the midnight hour ) 25th / 26th 2009


Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Life's adventures .

A JOURNEY

Life's journey is upon the thought train,
down de rail of heart ache and pain.

Salome, she occupies my every hour - an obsession! ?
This be my psychology?, this be my confession !

The Lady became the very essence of my dreams.
A nightmare ?, has it become ?, it now seems.

How does one let go?, find the shores of peaceful streams ?
How does one hang on ?, find a way to create seams ?

Could all this be nothing more then a means ?,
by which one might separate the obsession from the dreams.

B.J."A" 2

September 21st 2009

Obsessions

Madness ?, Walking.
Insanity ?, Talking.

Life has not always been a walk in the park,
more often than not - a long and winding road
through the shadows - not hidden by the dark.

Life has not always been on the straight and narrow path,
but it is a journey that one takes towards a trail
that will lead one towards the end of a long lane,
a lane that egresses the lush green of life's adventures,
away from all that led one into those desolate lands,
of deserts - dry, mountain tops - cold, north and south poles -
earth's ends, outer space - life anew - no more a heavy load.

B.J."A" 2
September 21st 2009

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Chains around my neck .

There are these great, and heavy chains that seem to bind my heart to the
thoughts of you, they're dragging me down.

The ride I took was as good as it could be, but the links that bind my mind to the thoughts of you are not very sound.

I can now see - with eyes wide open, not blinded by my love for you - that with you I will not see , love found.

Could care less ?

I have always felt that you, never could care.
I hoped, but you never ever pretended to be there.
It is, now all so clear, you will never really care.
That's my life, that's you, that's fate, it is all, so unfair
.

The many Faces .

I see your beautiful face in every drop of my tears.
I see your lovely face in every place, throughout our years.
I see your exquisite face haunt the very fiber of my fears.

I see your face upon the walls of my time.
I see your face every day, knowing you'd never be mine.
I see your face, it hurts me so, yet I want what is sublime.

I see your beautiful face slowly want to fade.
I see your lovely face and believe, superficially made.
I see your exquisite face empty and staid.

My heart beats to the incessant pounding of tear drops,
upon this tired old face, expressing the pain of loss,
the loss of what I never really had in the first place,
it all comes to the surface and is read all over my face.

Why ?, was I so receptive, so willing to sacrifice
my heart, my soul, my spirit, put them in the vice-
grip- of love, let it squeeze out every drop of life,
chop them up into tiny pieces with the Butcher's knife.

B.J."A"

September 6th 2009