UNKOWN

THE UNKNOWN

Unbeknownst to you , you touched the deepest recesses of my heart,

such a long time ago, and it seems so far away.

You are the oil that penetrated these old and rusted hinges -

making it possible, to open, once again, the steely doors of my heart.

For what has been a life time, I thought - never again, love to feel, love to experience,

love to express, or to let in the life and light of Love's forces, Love's energies.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye - you cared not to see,

you cared not to hear, you did not want to know.

Blindness now reigns supreme - lost is that beautiful dream.

Nothing but harsh words, words of indifference - a spirit so mean

comes at me in forceful waves, permeating every scene

that you and I - upon life's stage - play out our parts,

in costumes, life's experiences have fashioned for us,

that we - on our journey - have tailored in defence of our soul.

You where the key my Dear, - not ever wanting to be - for fear.

You opened the lock, turned back the clock, opened my heart for me,

and a world - lost for so long - I believed I'd never again see.

Now it all is being destroyed, it is crumbling, soon to be all gone,

and you contend, believe it was all - I who made it go wrong,

caring not to see, wanting not to hear the dirges that have become my song.

Now you want me to let it all go, now you no longer want me to carry on.

Oh how I wanted to undress my heart, my spirit, my soul, all my dreams,

lay them before - naked, free, new born - your eyes ( nothing to hide ).

This I did for you, you did not want to see, you shot them down, them you denied,

told me I was not your friend, told me I did not love you,

told me you only had two friends, Christina, and Randy.

This left me with no place to go - what more is there for me to do ?

Except remember - for me you will always be as sweet as candy,

even though we know, Sweetness, without care - will decay the very fiber -

rot the teeth, that poison the system, contributes to diabetes, that can kill - that's her -

if not one's body, - of experience - the essence of one's spirit, of one's soul.

This - I am sure - like me, many have come - all to well - to know.

The solution, - if nothing comes back to you - is to let it go.

B.J."A" 2

May 15th 2009

Personality

PERSONALITY

The game of avoidance is played so well,

perfected it so, it's very hard to tell

when and if it's on, one does not know.

There is nothing and no one able to show

what comes from - lays deep within the soul.

Because there is a refusal to believe,

it becomes impossible - one can not conceive

what it is that becomes a part of the personality

that will take a relationship, lead it to finality

and never see, perceive what was laid down.

It must be only one way - a set of ground

rules by which one must comply,

or it's over, the relationship must die

a very slow death - from the awareness,

there will never be a closeness.

What does the broken heart do ?,

inside, bury the thoughts of you

so the soul can keep on living,

knowing you will never be giving

in an inch, let alone a foot or two.

DREAMS

Would if I could, take my dreams of you- for you - into a reality I could live

a life, where I could find, that to me you would freely, lovingly give.

Hope is the bastion for Love's desire to carry on.

But in the end - my love - it is lost, it is gone.

You where the inspiration for change, yet change inspired you not

You where the fertilizer for the growth of love, yet it, you never got.

The dance of passion swings on notes of Love's song,

if it is to have true fulfillment, then one must belong,

otherwise it's just a dance, and passion is - but less romance.

I've sent my love, in rays of brilliant light.

You have hidden away, in the darkness of night.

You have - it seems - walked away from romance,

and with me, have only had one dance.

And now, for me there is not a chance.

B.J."A" 2

April 26th 2009

Percieved Realities.

Realities

We live in a world full of superficiality.

This world, we have created, becomes our reality.

The end result will become humanities fatality.

No one escapes their plot, the play they have created.

The end result ?, - will be what is fated

by their indifference to life, their lack of love

for what has come to them, form here or above.

Superficiality, indifference is a denial of reality,

a reality that will find for them no commonality.

Grounded

I have, I did, I would clip the wings of my ego,

my pride , I have set adrift in stormy seas, let it go

for a desire, for a life time, of you to get to know

far beyond that which you have, you are willing to show.

We have - from time to time - had a moment to touch.

For you , it was to let it slip by - it was to much

to let yourself go, be free, to let yourself come to show

the heart - I still believe is buried deep within your soul.

Denied Pain

I hear the pain, in all the stories - to me you told.

I see you bury your feelings, - your spirit, your ego so bold -

that true feelings, real emotions will never unfold.

Life's experiences have come and made your heart so cold,

hard as steel, made it feel empty and dead.

The only place for you to live, is inside your head.

Indifference, high expections - all have fed,

fueled the fires - no one is good enough to fill desires

you have - I know - waiting in the wings,

never to find - the lyrics your heart never sings,

to your heart, love for you - it seems - never brings,

has never brought to you - except arrows, that stings

the very fiber of your soul.

B.J."A" 2

July 10th 2009

Never to blossom

The Seeds of Love Blossoming

There was this awakening of, in two thousand and one.

It gave birth to feelings, long gone, thought was done.

Eight years later, it all came down to this !,

never an emotion given - accepted - not a tough, not a kiss.

Never a time - for you and I, never a moment - for bliss.

I ran so hard, and so blind, towards that beautiful Dream,

only to find out that it was not, but a dried up stream.

Last night you convinced - no question about it - me

no light will ever shine upon - for this one to see

beyond that beautiful Black Hole,

I have come - so well - to know.

That - I guess - is how the winds of Fate, blow.

B.J."A" 2

July 9th 2009

A Sunday Journey

LIFE ON SUNDAY

A JOURNEY

Into Mother Nature's, realm - this day - did I take a walk
Alone along the river's edge - the edge of thoughts - with no one to talk
Listen did I to the melodious music of Mother Nature's sound
permeating the air, reverberating in my brain, it was all around.
There, in the air, her sweet breath I had found
filling my nasal passages with delight as I walked upon her ground.
Her sweet breath filling my ofactory senses to the brim -
for some moments, my life's cup seemed filled to the rim -
giving life to the silent music of Mother Nature's, dance,
bringing thoughts of two - instead of one - onto the path of romance.
Life's Sunday journey into Mother Nature, was by chance
as a detour was taken on the way to Maple Ridge.
Before these eyes was the BUILDING of a bridge,
not one but two and my thoughts where of bridges BURNING.
The loss of what my heart had long been yearning.
All my thoughts Moneca, where of you
as I journeyed - nothing else could I do
but think of the good, then the BURNING of bridges, not BUILDING them.
During my photographing and hiking this day, thoughts of you did stem,
thoughts of, the BURNING of bridges bringing to the for
a realization, that standing among the ashes, you have closed the door.
This is what I believe and believe it is for ever more.

B.J."A"

2 MAY 19th 2009

From within - all life come to light .

THE WOMB OF MOTHER NATURE

Before the womb of Mother Nature, stands

two offspring's, feeding off her old life's hands
One day, a long way down the road of time's passing
they will stand tall before the memory of her place .

MOTHER NATURE'S VULVA, VAGINA .

A flower before the beauty of Motherhood,
one day, a month ago, before me stood .
To day, in the photo, the vision became clear
as I enlarged the picture, bring it near .
Life's journey, before these eyes, was there
for all to see, if but should they care .
Imagination in me runs wild
at the sight of man's stillborn child
looking out at me from within her vagina,
past the beauty that is all vulva .
This unborn child - so old - of man,
his skeletal skull, eyes so sad
slipping into dust, as all before had,
kissing the lips all life passes by
on it's long, long journey to be .
This unborn child - so old - of man
reaching up it seems, trying to hang on,
but out into the light we all must go,
past the gap between Mothers legs
we must, he must, as dust, fly
out into the great expanse, of blue sky,
living a life fated, dictated, or chosen .

This in a photo - this day - caught my eye .

B.J. "A" 2

May 24th 2009

THE HEART

BROKEN HEARTS

Many a heart, looks s not - at - through the eyes of reason.

Many a heart, in the throes of love, want not but one season.

Many a heart, is blinded by Love's heat, -

to Cupid's song, dance to a different beat -

not often to the drummer of logic.

For many a heart, that dance becomes tragic.

Many a heart shrinks - starts rececing,

finding it hard to stop the bleeding.

The obvious - even if one is not aware -

becomes - to the heart in love -

a man invisible, trying to touch

a reality - veiled - and a desire for,

a desire to be, a desire to see

deep into and beyond one's delusion -

a perfect sculpture of the Illusion, -

of a life that could never be,

and now it is no longer within, - you see -

to satisfy the needs for that beautiful Illusion, of -

for this heart to give anymore of it's love

to that lovely Illusion, thinking it is so far above.

Or so the delusion of the Illusion goes.

Who is it that really knows ?

B.J."A" 2

June 21st 2009

THAT GOD

Zeus, of so many faces, by legend, man did split,

and ever since, the other half never seems to fit.

Zeus, the split tor of atoms - Adam, into Eve,

has set man adrift, searching for - on stormy sea -

his other half - his soul, his spirit that did leave,

and forevermore, will never or seldom see.

On his search for the other -

when found can seldom fill another

with that which he often does search -

upon this plain, in the heavens, on this earth.

No matter how ornate and beautiful the Church,

she can hardly provide a life or lifetime of mirth.

Yet man keeps on looking,

his brain keeps on cooking,

and all that he yearns-

all it seems to do - it burns -

is leave him cold,

then he grows old.

This my story told.

Not being to bold?, -

the thought I hold.

B.J."A" 2

June 21st 2009