Silences

Silences

Down the halls, walking among the walls

of silence, mine and Of, and wonder?,

should I speak in words of thunder,

shatter the empty spaces of either,

or quietly refrain and do neither,

display nothing of what lies behind

those empty spaces - by kind?

Winds so silent, scream, on their way

down the hallways of my brain,

tearing to shreds, what is left

of the curtains that hide emotions.

Hide from those seekers of the soul,

who might care to know

what it is that protects the weakened spirit.

A spirit that waits for a sound so soft,

so pure, so innocent, it enlightens,

lightens the beating heart so heavy

with sadness, creating depressions

that are but gigantic holes

in the life of what is left

of a living being.

An organism - reaching beyond,

beyond it's single celled existence,

beyond it;s sterile, four cornered room -

am I, reaching out, trying to be more then

the nucleus of a protozoan, I am becoming,

more then the vapours of Saint Elmo's fire,

reaching out for warmth, passion, compassion.

B. J. "A" 2

December 24th 2010

XIAO LING

My Fading Sun Shine

Clouds silently slipped in on the bright spot,

those last beautiful moments, with you , I got.

Now I sit in reflection, in gloom,

in my four cornered room.

It happened and your send off was in a shower of tear
drops, sentiments that represent all that I fear.
Fear that, with me, never again will you be near,
except that is, in all the memories I hold so dear.

B. J. "A" 2
December 14th 2010

A POEM IN NEED

A POEM IN NEED

ONE I AM UNABLE TO FILL

Xiao Ling, is a poem that needs to be written.

Xiao Ling, is a poem that I would love to write.

Her inner / outer beauty - with, I have become smitten.

She, for a short while, made me feel life was alright.

I have never been to China.

Think I touched Her Heart so finna?

Reached deep within, to touch Her Soul.

She, I never really got to know.

I am unable to fathom the dreams,

the desires of an other, it seems.

For they / she travels on different beams.

I know , I never touched the edges of Her Heart,

nor the fringes of Her sweet Soul

Her youthful Spirit I did enjoy,

as She allowed much for this old boy

to fill my twilight days with.

The illusion, of touching Her Heart, lingers on

even though, reality is !, She is long gone

in search of Her own dreams and desires

as this old fool faces death, of his burning fires.

What once was, will never come back.

My heart strings, I will have to let be slack

as I crawl among and through every moment

of every experience we shared, that meant

I was alive, living life in fulfillment

of a greater sacrament.

B. J. "A" 2

November 4th 2010

A Philosophy

Life lived, is but taking hold of all the fleeting moments,

it's reality offers, and making them ours for as long as they last.

When they have run their coarse, given all they posses, dissipate,

fade into the books of history, we must give thanks, be grateful,

cherish every nuance, every beam, every ray, every wave length,

- all that gave them life and life meaning. -

Remember, give for as long as it takes and then move on

regardless of the rain that surely will fall

regardless of the pain that surely will pall

B.J."A" 2

October 22nd 2010

R I P

In Loving Memory

HERE LIES

Love & Friendship

BORN 11, 2009 - DIED 11, 10, 2010

From A Long Period Of Indifference .

Ending I do believe ????

REALITIES ?

I feel like an image in a Salvador Dali, painting.

Dripping off the edges of a surrealistic reality.

The Dream, - She has left me behind - a nightmare.

My spirit in an altered state of reality.

Reality melting all around, within me.

My life's clock ticking away, running out of time.

I find myself among those wretched Souls,

Screaming Souls, huddled together in mass misery

Clawing, reaching up in a desperate attempt to escape

The hell fires of Dante's Inferno.

Hands of my clock, limp, impotent, melting.

Time runs off their tips like tear drops,

Into the dark depths of eternal Dreams.

Dreams, that have her own realities.

Reality has no Dream, for me.

B. J. "A" 2

October 10th 2010

CRACKS IN REALITY

I AM NO LONGER ABLE TO CATCH A GLIMPSE OF MY REFLECTIONS

IN THE CRACKED MIRRORS OF OUR RELATIONSHIP.

AS THE FISSURES WIDEN, PIECES OF ME SLIP INTO.

I FALL THROUGH THE CRACKS, INTO DIMENSIONS

LYING IN WAIT ON THE OTHER SIDE.

IN THEM, THERE WILL BE NO PLACE TO HIDE.

AND SO, WHAT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW ?,

WHAT LIES IN THE SPACES BETWEEN THE OBVIOUS ?

THOSE THINGS NEVER SPOKEN OF

AS I TRY TO RISE ABOVE,

KNOWING, THERE IS NEVER TO BE LOVE

FOR THIS OLD MAN,

WHO PLAYED HIS HAND.

LOST, IN THE GAME,

LOVE HER NAME.

LOVE FOR HIM NEVER CAME.

B. J. 'A' 2

OCTOBER 5TH 2010