Cavernous

I do not believe !, nor do I want to believe

that the delineations you paint upon the canvass’

of our, oh so brief time upon this plane together

represents the true you, the real you, the spiritual soul of you.
 

I wanted, so much for you to stand by me,

so much for you – upon this earth – to stand with me,

to walk with me upon the raging waters of this sea,

this life of ours, to be with me in calming these waters

these storms, storms drowning emotions, feelings, desires,

sending them into the depths, into Davie Jones’s locker.

Down, down, down to the bottom – of our hearts, our souls.

 

Me - my spirit has slipped into the mouth of this great Cave,

the caves within – deep, dark, dangerous, opened mouth –

where a Carcharondon Carchanis, an Orcinus Orca, awaits,

it’s stalactites downward force, piercing the upper regions

of my heart, causing great geysers of blood to fly,

it’s stalagmite stilettos, thrusting upwards

into the lower, nether regions of my bleeding heart,

piercing every fiber, every beat that vibrates to the songs

that love’s composers lay at the feet of us hopeless romantics,

songs that have become deafeningly silent to these old ears

and the light of their sounds, penetrates not these old eyes

as life’s blood, drips in vain, like tear drops through a vein’s

 aneurism – the wounds inflicted by these predators,

wounds ripped into the living flesh of a stilled, beating heart

as it tries to navigate a coarse between Black Shadows,

between the teeth  ( stalagmites, stalactites ) of this Cavern,

I have chosen to explore – once more -  for Life’s, sake.

 

The deeper I travelled into the interior of this Cave,

The more I realized, my feeling became even more grave.

The question became, how do I avoid the sting, the bite, stave

off the inevitable, – never to love / be loved – to the grave

with all I shared, all I desired, all that I gave !

 

From the mists of uncertainty, from the fogs of doubts

 come numerous ( hundreds ?, ) pages of enlightenment

 ( for the blind and the blinded ) that project, that question,

that are, even,  living statements.

 B. J. “A” 2

January 30^th 2009

Lepidopteron larvae

 

What a fantastic journey you have been.

Metamorphosed, beautiful wings I have seen.

Left in awe by what – from you I could glean.

Yet all I wanted with you !, was for life to be serene.

Ambulating upon this earth or to soar into the air,

it mattered not to me, for with you is all I care

to experience, to be a part of, to know all your fair

beauty, your fine mind, your time and to climb the stair –

way to heaven with you – not into hell will I stare

at all that – for me – was not kosher, not fair.

 

It now seems as though the Lepidopteron larvae,

a Monarch has become, leaving me by the wayside.

With me, she is finished, no longer wanting to play

and from me – it seems – she just wants to hide.

Not the adventure I wanted, not the kind of ride

that brings, this one, far from my ?, beauties side.

 B. J. “A” 2

January 30th 2009

Other Things

 There are times when I need a distraction

from days, heavy, when there is no satisfaction.

Yet these days, to climb above, seem so high

and with every step, time just seems to slip by

leaving so very little –hardly a trace

of what once existed in that place,

one’s secret, sacred room – memory’s hoard

where all of  one’s experiences are stored.

Sometimes offered up in times of reminiscing

of what once was, but now seems to be missing

in a life that now only offers up reflections

of times of love, of joys and of rejections.

One try’s, and offers up their very best,

for others, only having been their guest.

Life’s journeys ?, life’s adventures ?, a quest

to become as one, to be whole

but in the end !, never to know

what lies beneath, never to show

where it is ?, that we surly will go.

B. J. “A” 2

May 16th, 2013

Rivers

Rivers of tears, flowing from fears,

 beginning to dry, it has become harder to cry,

knowing, accepting, no more rejecting ?,

the loss of – what for years was a sin’

 - that, being the world I lived in. -

It all now seems to be over

even those beautiful moments, in Port Dover,

I will remember, look back, breath deep and sigh,

realizing – in the game – not to love, not to fly.

There was you - no we - and I accept, you win.

I will live with the pain that sears my heart from within.

My soul, my spirit steers a new coarse

with hopes of finding a new source

that will guide me though this light so dim,

beyond it’s harsh grip, beyond it’s wide rim.

I am tripping, faltering upon the path, home-

ward-bound – no longer the desire to roam

upon turbulent oceans, rolling seas, shores lined in foam

as their waves, wash over my shore line dome

presiding over this body - lying on the shore –

that may never rise again, may walk, never more

with the beauty, with the beautiful, for

she is not, nor would be – mine

to savor, to hold, on this plane, in this time.

For all time, I wanted feel her deeply.

I wanted to experience her, know her completely.

The Lady, was always on the run.

Chasing her was always a bit of fun.

Now I believe, with me, she is done.

I often think of the stories we could have written,

if only, like me, she was smitten.

If only, like me, by the love bug, she had been bitten.

Within my heart, an inferno was a burning !

Within her heart, not a spark of yearning

and now, an end – no more pages to be a turning.

There is this possibility, all this is in my imagination

and for her, all my thought are but an aggravation.

She may be coming at me from a totally different place

making every thing I have written – a slap in the face !

Will I ever know ?, what is behind the games she plays,

as far away from me as she seems to be, and as she stays

so far from my reach, so far from my touch.

No more !, for me it has been far to much

B. J. “A” 2

January 23rd 2009

Horse Power

A great white Steed, carries the strength of –

The fabled Unicorn, carries the mythical passion of -

The legendary Pegasus, carries ( on wings ) the dreams of –

The Man, in love carries ( on his back ) the weight of –

A Mare, of exotic beauty carries not ( a concern of ) –

for what these fine Animals, carry to her – Love !

Horse power exists, not in a world of air waves,

micro waves, radio waves, solar waves, psychic waves,

the wave of cosmic consciousness and goodbye waves .

With all these horses, permeating the air, how one behaves -

sanely or insanely - to the pull of Love’s forces ?,

is a mystery to many a man and all the above horses

B. J. “A” 2

December 3rd 2008

 

Fairy Tale

 

Is this a dream ?, that breaths life into my brain .

Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Juliette, no, Moneca her name.

Romeo, Don Juan, Casanova, Eros, I would claim

to be the inspiration for my Love’s game.

These passionate heroes, ooze a desire to express,

to let love flow from every atom, molecule, nucleus,

every pore, from the very fiber of their soul, their being

 and nothing less, would we be seeing,

radiating energy on beams, on rays from spirit, and eyes.

My soul, my spirit, wants to touch, but only cries

as love walks on by - as shapeless clouds fill the skies.

Realization comes – love’s expression are in the brain –

a synaptic act – ecstasy for some, for me, only pain !

Electric impulse, energizes Cupid’s bow – guide his arrow

towards me, not ! my life to shallow, my being to narrow,

in the mind, in the eyes of the one I seek to love

who says, who claims, who believes she is so far above

this old man she toys with, plays with and cares not

for who I am, emotionally, intellectually, for what I’ve got

 

I can not seem to sleep passed this dream / nightmare.

I can not seem to sleep through this dream / nightmare

B. J. “A” 2

December 3rd 2008

Escaping

 Thoughts, feelings, desires, life and lust for love,

escaping the confines of  the heart. soul, consciousness

of this old spirit that wants to hang on so

- no desire, no inclination to let it all go

even though the last breaths of hope

seep out of the lungs of love –

but knows, it is all lost on the winds of indifference.

 

Indifference, she seems to be soaring on

to new plateaus, to higher planes

of expectations – to be met – by ?

 

This heart becoming an alone orphan

among the crowds of lovers – coalescing,

bringing to, giving to, sharing each to the other.

B. J. “A” 2

October 5th 2008

 Clouds

Illusionary Images

 

A black cloud, hangs heavy over head – casting shadows.

Clouds, permeating blue skies – images of, coalesce,

from the multitudes of representations – imagined.

A cloud that often rained down blue tears

- tears that are drowning all the hope and desires.

 

 

Solar winds, blowing cosmic dust, tearing at this heart

 ripping apart the clouds, dissipating their essence,

leaving particles, specks of, to drift apart, become invisible.

This naked eye, the minds eye, never saw a rainbow

reflected in tear drops that hung off this pot of Gold.

The story told, – nothingness ? – her world so cold.

  B. J. “A” 2

October 5th 2008

The song of Life
 

One begins life, sing it’s compositions in acappella.

During youth, throughout growth, hopes, to be a good fella,

singing in harmony with family, loved one’s, friends and Lovers,

as the orchestras, the bands, beat, hides nothing under the covers.

One’s tunes reverberate throughout this universe,

every lyric, ever line, every note, every verse.

Age then creeps up on us, we again are caught, singing acappella

at our journeys end, taking us into the heavens, to join a Stella.

Flying like the doves,

to join all our Loves

in the either above.

Sent aloft by hands that shove.

B. J. “A” 2

April 11^th  2013