Those mysterious black Eyes

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I came to know, it seems so long ago

when I peered into your deep dark eyes

with such a passion, with such a curiosity.

Those mysterious black orbs, hiding something,

something I could not define caught my interest.

They captured me, drew me in like some black hole.

They drew me into the heart of your mysterious space

That space where I hung so tightly onto its smooth edges

fearing that I would lose, what I thought, was my firm grip.

I was always praying that I might touch the beat of your soul.

Have it captivate the rhythm of my heart beat and move as one.

You danced gaily upon my heart, to the beat of a different drummer.

Though we danced beautifully upon the waves of many a moment,

The experiences of those moments of ecstasy became far too few.

Yet those moments became the nourishment that fueled my dreams.

Dreams, as time {{ seven years }} has slipped by, without wings to fly

falter upon the synaptic clefts of my brain and wither upon my desire

to once again explore, to touch the depths of your mysterious black orbs.

Behind which, to find the ingress that will lead me through the fortified walls

and into the deepest recesses of your beautiful, your generous, your elusive heart.

Oh,!!!, to only unravel the mystery that has frayed the strings of  my broken heart.

Oh !!!, to find the music within your heart, to be able to strum the strings of your harp.

If I could only feel the vibrations, hear the tones resonate, beating softly upon my ear drums.

I realize that we, you and me dance to a different drummers beat these days, bringing tears

to this dreamer of dreams that have been slowly waning in the sunset of our relationship.

I know that my dreams, you, and all we shared has to come to an end, I have to let go

of the moments of joy, of pleasure, the adventures, the journeys we experienced.

This I must do, for me and for you, in order to find life in the realms of reality.

My dreams of you have lingered on much longer than they should have.

Reality my Dear, has always been, letting you go is my greatest fear.

When the dreams dissolves and I awake, I will never dream again.

That being said, my Oriental Beauty, accepting my fate

finally, is the only road left for this dreamer to take.

B. J. “ A ” 2

December 11th, 2017

They tried to silence the music

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The Spanish, the Portuguese, the French, the British.

They all tried to mute, to squelch the songs, using genocide.

They all tried to eradicate the golden voices of warrior Eagles.

They all tried to erase the echoing beat from the drums of this land.

Tyranny, genocide was the raging noise, drowning out the music.

Yet, in over four hundred years, they all, could not kill their songs

of life, of love, of respect for all that Mother Earth has provided man.

Be he of the original colour, or caucasian,  yellow,  dark brown, or black.

They all have failed to exterminate, to terminate the First Nation’s voice.

A voice, who’s soul, soars on high, above them all, on the winds of eternal time.

All the First Nation’s, Heroes, their Prophets, have stated, our voices will be heard.

We will once again become the music, the beat, the songs, the voices of pure reason.

B. J. “ A ” 2

December 11^th, 2017

An adventure

Down those subconscious, mysterious corridors,

into one’s memories hoard , behind closed doors.

Into a surrealistic world of undecipherable dreams,

were one’s life is portrayed in reflections, it seems.

We move within this world of moments, to recall

moments, we pray, with pride, we did stand tall.

Moments, I have to say, where we also, did fall

Moments, I must say, we also lived behind a pall.

One looks from within the precincts of the cranium

to see, to find where one’s spirit, one’s soul did come.

The subconscious ?, a puppeteer ?, pulling the strings.

Creating a dance, to glide us across the floors of our past.

A voice that whispers in our ears, a voice that fervently sings

of all the adventures, all the experiences, with shadows doth cast

moments of uncertainty, moments filled with ghosts that haunt

one with memories that linger on and on, memories that taunt

one with passions lost, much like that of a fading, beautiful sun set.

At what cost doth one face impotence ? For how long must one fret ?,

over memories transported from our past, incorporated into our living days.

Memories of times which will never again see the light of day, only in dreams.

B. J. “ A ” 2

October 21st, 2017

B. C. A Flame

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All day long, we are under this orb, orangey, pink in hue.

We see it through the ghosts, the essences we once knew.

Helios, on his voyage over this blanket of cremated life, flies.

Unfortunately, only he, not we, doth see beautiful blue skies

while we, under this monstrously heavy blanket of  gray,

have yet been able to view a cloud or a clear blue sky day.

B. J.“A ” 2

October 5^th 2017

So many moments reflecting

Refracting so many experiences.

The lenses of time’s, evolutionary passing

have become moments of history pressing,

pressing upon one’s memories hoard

within which all has been stored.

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

These memories, lucid, will remain

until more adventures come again

to enliven one to never ever refrain

from moments gone, bringing pain.

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

Memories will enlighten, until I depart

this plane. A journey towards a new start.

Touching the moments You, created for me,

brought your essence, your soul for me to see.

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

Thirty five days, three hundred hours

spent on so many of my days, it towers

above a thousand 3 and ½ by five prints

that illustrates the stories, fabulous hints.

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

Looking into the many adventures, the reminiscence 

of my Beautiful, Daughters, Love, Family presence

that helped make up so many of my nights and days.

For this journey, these adventures to live again, one prays

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

The last image these tired, old, brown eyes  got to see

was my Daughter Gail, hand in the air waving goodbye to me

as I entered the metal body of this giant silver bird

echoing in my ears the voice and every word I heard.

There has become this void !!!

Reminiscing may help to avoid.

The curtain, soon will be coming down upon this play

so that I may then begin to experience a normal day

were thoughts of my Beautiful Daughters, Love

is not fused with all the work I will soon rise above.

B.  J. “ A ” 2

July 15^th2027

Sounds that Echo

I have heard the deafening sounds of this raging River.

In her silence, echoes a voice that did make me quiver.

For, the essence of her diatribes at me, did deliver

a message so cruel, so cold, it made my spirit shiver

to think that all I gave, unappreciated was this giver.

From her heart, the depth of her soul, not a sliver

of compassion, of understanding, of acceptance.

She never even gave this silly old fool a chance

at the joys, the pleasures of a slow dance,

nor the intimacies, the passions of romance.

B. J. “A ” 2

May 17^th 2017

Healing

Could it be possible for love to heal the troubled, the wounded?

All those damaged souls, who’s ghosts haunt their every hour!

Could love bring them back from the brink of emotional extinction?

Give them back some of the innocence they, at onetime, knew?

When one thinks of the genocide of our First Nations People,

Think of the genocide of their spirit, those remaining souls.

Could it be possible for love to heal the troubled, the wounded?

All those damaged souls, who’s ghosts haunt their every hour!

When one thinks of the genocide of a child’s psyche, hers or his.

One has to wonder what part love plays in this destructive game

man plays as he molests, sexually abuses, emotionally, mentally,

verbally strips naked, to the very marrow, the essence of a child,

of Nations, of the first Peoples residing upon this little blue planet,

past, present and future. Will love give them a glimpse of a future?

B. J. “A ” 2

May 9^th 2017