Words
The ship
Words come to me like spring.
They set free, they shed the shroud,
open with all their glory, beauty and sing.
They stand tall, they ring out loud,
from a life that blossoms with life’s renewal,
with its continuation and the energy it will fuel,
 taking all living things, from their creation
to exotic places, the place of their final destination
and that of their destiny.
And destiny for you and me.

Words are my stairway towards the breasts
of heaven, its waiting arms and its protective nests,
where there is nothing that harms
- as one snuggles in its enfolding arms -
one on his journey down long winding roads
 he has to travel with such heavy loads.

Words are the steps I have climbed, they take me
on adventures – and many, they have been – to see
me through the doors, ( doors of perception ) of my mind,
 those places, where it is, I spend most of my time.
These pathways I have chosen to embark upon,
  seem to linger on, and on, and on
through to the subconscious that doth confirm, 
to consciousness, the light and I do learn
from the words, the life, the thought
  flowing like meandering streams, into raging rivers,
 rivers into seas, into oceans and ought
to take flight, light up the livers
of life on their voyage towards heaven above
where all might be pure love
for a soul and for that soul to know
what is unknowable to conscious man, what doesn’t show,
of what is not known to life, in its everyday living.

Words, for me, are knowledge, are for wisdom, for giving
to all of whom want to know for all those who want to grow.

B. J. “A” 2
March 21^st 2002

Melanie, Dear Melanie !!!

My heart, Melanie, is aching.
My heart, Melanie, is braking
from the attitudes that never seems to cease.
They just seem – to me that is – to ever increase,
 taking you ever deeper and deeper into ?, and further away
 from who you are – what I feel and what I pray,
is not where you are at and what you are heading for.
It seems that there are few days left ?, before you are out the door.

B. J. “A” 2

March 21^st  2002

Troubled Times
My hours tremble, they shake in their passing.
The minutes I live, are pressing, they are oppressing,
for the thunder that rages, that is your presence,
I have no safe haven, no shelter, I have no defence.
To become completely silent ?, never to sing out,
 to ring the bell that tolls of your life, turned about
expressed  with anger, in the hostile words you shout
at me, words that let me see into, know something is amiss
in our little world, that once tasted the sweetness of bliss,
but now, has been destroyed, taken away !,
 by what ?, by whom ?, who has lead you astray.
B. J. “A” 2

March 21^st  2002

Loss

I have felt, for some time, and do feel the light
within you flicker, yet does not quite burn bright
for long, but one day, may just take flight
on your butter fly wings, not dried or out of sight
and carry you passed all in life – BAD – you tried, in darkest of night..
B. J. “A” 2
March 21st  2002

Touch
I have reached out !, I have tried to touch you Melanie !,
but have found, not but vapour, mist in my hands,
passing air, on the run, to an uncharted, unknown sea,
to far off, barren, dusty,  desert lands.

I offer you, - my Daughter, my Child, - my time, my ear.
I would like to know, to understand, to listen, I want to hear,
but silence is all that comes to me, upon the turbulent wind,
on the run, in the air, stilled by this horrendous sin.

B. J. “A ” 2
March 21^st  2002

The Fall
Melanie, !!!, your fall, I find hard to conceive.
It is a picture, a movie that I do not want to believe,
yet it is all around me, but if I would perceive.

B. J. “A ” 2
March 21^st  2002

A black hole
My life is caught up in this vortex called living.
This whirl pool, called life, sucks me in,
 spins me round and around, giving
nothing, just drawing me ever downward, in,
 into this it’s empty black hole, pierced by it’s swards,
laying my heart wide open, bleeding on my thoughts, my words.

B. J. “A ” 2
March 21^st 2002

Veiled sight
My eyes flow, they swell with red
rivers, in vain as painful waves
of tears, tears full of fears fill my head
as the pain, from within, fills the caves,
the hollows, the shelters in my mind, never put to bed

B. J. “A ” 2

March 21^st 2002

Much to much time !!!
It seemed that I had too much time on my hands, to reflect,
too much time on my hands to project,
to much time on my hands to infect
my days, my nights with what I did suspect,
and now the years have slipped by like lightening,
and all that once was frightening,
has, with the passing of time, become clear
as time has shown, elevating all that I did  fear.

B. J. “A ” 2
October 12^th  2013