Phillip and Susan, what a tremendous interview. So candid, honest and humbling in many ways, it was pleasurable to read and follow. Great depth of mind and it’s so wonderful to get a personal sense of poet friends.

Great interview … I love poets. You’re delightful Steven and it is nice to meet you.



Hi, I’m Author Susan Joyner-Stumpf.  Being a writer and Certified Graphics Artist myself, I am always curious to find out the artist BEHIND their work, whether it be a writer, artist who draws, musician and/or singer/songwriter.  Here on my site, Rhythm and Muse Artist Spotlight, I interview Artists of all genres and talk about their inspirations, their current endeavors and future projects.  If you’re looking for a good book to read, maybe you will find it after reading the Interview; or wanting to discover new art to look at and possibly buy?  Or music to listen to?  Come to Rhythm and Muse, Artist Spotlight Interviews and meet the Artists that keep Art Alive in our world today!!

Today we will be interviewing Phillip Matthew Roberts.

Author pic

[Susan]           Phillip, hi, and thank you for coming today and allowing me to Interview you. Could you please start…

View original post 3,518 more words


Author Susan Joyner-Stumpf, friend and fellow poetess/author has interviewed another Canadian poet Steven Fortune. I think you will enjoy the interview Susan conducts with Steven



Hi, I’m Author Susan Joyner-Stumpf.  Being a writer and Certified Graphics Artist myself, I am always curious to find out the artist BEHIND their work, whether it be a writer, artist who draws, musician and/or singer/songwriter.  Here on my site, Rhythm and Muse Artist Spotlight, I interview Artists of all genres and talk about their inspirations, their current endeavors and future projects.  If you’re looking for a good book to read, maybe you will find it after reading the Interview; or wanting to discover new art to look at and possibly buy?  Or music to listen to?  Come to Rhythm and Muse, Artist Spotlight Interviews and meet the Artists that keep Art Alive in our world today!!

Today we will be interviewing Steven Fortune.


[Susan] Steven, hi, and thank you for coming today and allowing me to Interview you.  Could you please start…

View original post 8,062 more words

Winter Fairies and Return To The Forest



Welcome To Winter Fairies and Return To The Forest

My poetry is dedicated to my family respectively:  Jim, Babe, Carol, Elysia and Joel.

Also, I want to thank all of my poetry friends that I’ve made on FB. The list is so long of my FB friends and I just want to let them know that they are so appreciated…

Now, just a little note to you the readers. This is a long poetry story. It has to be lenghty as it tells a story about love that’s become volatile. Love ,that is abusive and perhaps dangerous, is Beauties struggle and “Beauty ” is a metaphor regarding the lives of domestic violence victims.

I’m most proud of Fairy Beauty who declares her win over The Evil Sh’man. I love her words to the audience, to herself and to him. She comes through as the ultimate victor in the case of domestic warfare.

Thank you for stopping by and reading the allegorical poems of Winter Fairies.

Oh and by the way, the word fairy or faerie have two different spellings and meanings. A fairy is good and kind and represents innocence while faeries are mischievous at times and are practical jokers and create havoc in their environment.


Evil Sh’man Speaks:

Part 1

Hey! Come back here you Elfin Faerie!

Stop giggling, skipping and dancing, right now!

Caught again this time…

Feel the gripping of my grasp?

Delight, fright?

You Elfin mischief maker.

This time you’ll pay the price.

Last time… You’ve plucked my “C” chord.

Making sure of that…

Ha! You laugh, tease, taunt and twirl,

but now meshed between fingers of steel.

Escape not.

The last laugh; mine.

Little green Faerie neither sex surely known.

Doesn’t matter now

For between my fingers, thou art.

So, wiggly. So smart!

My eyes will not close!

The night approaches. Willing not thou clever plan.

I sleep not!

Fighting sleep.

Sword drawn at my side.

Think Thou smart, do’est though?

Think ye shall wait?

Time your best ally?

Big green eyes look so sad.

Concerned for souls, are you?

Eyelashes ever so sweet and dimples warming pink cheeks.

What’s this?

One big tear begging release?

Ahhh…Turn Away! …

Beguiling charm!

Eternal soul sucking fascination of Beauty’s green eyes.

Devilish harm…

AYE, Look away!!!

No gaze at she!!!

The promise of your love I shall not see.

Turn away!

The trigger’s trap catches not; me.



Then Beauty Takes Her Leave as The Evil SH’man Sleeps:

Part 2

Black night comes,

alone and cold.

Smart beauty sleeps warmed

By hands that fold.

In quietness the present enemy waits.

Beauty taunts not.

She need not…

For time be her friend.

Coldness aligns her side

And loneliness sang lullabies to her;

“sleep child sleep.”


The fight grows small.

Sleeps on the horizon; it calls.

Hearing distance voices my eyes rest.

The hills and a mountain melody lays sleeps fog.

I answer…

Can you hear it, as well?

He snores…

“Gently gently, sleep.”

Beauty crawls from fingers once tight.

Careful, careful…

Not to awaken the captures soul…

She’s played before..

However it’d grown old.

She plays well.

A champion for sure.

Quietly quietly,

“SSH”…says She….

“Awaken not my game.”

“Comes tomorrow a fair shame is he.”

“Foe rest; later your dare…”

“Truth? Ha!”

“Thought you had me?”

“You foolish sh’man.”

“Look! Who has who.”

“Thought you’d won?”


“Surely thought?

I’d not get away?”

Ah…Before Daylight shines…

“One last game..It affords me so…”

Whispers stories in midnight sleep.

You’ll think strange, “God’s” voice for certain.

Magical messages, images, songs and words;

“God’s!, not His at all…”

Ah Hah!!

“Goody, goody for me.”

“One more time before nights end

Can bully jab my soul.”

“NOT!” Then; Beauty declares her win…

Her long fairy fingers reach for the harp.

The soul of her game?

To pluck his “F” sharp…

“Bold challenges,” said Beauty,

“HIS love I detest,

but, as He has made it,

I surrender my quest.”


Beauty, The King of Clubs, enter’s another battle with The King of Diamonds or The Evil Sh’man. One more round taking place in the courtroom of divorce.


Poem 2

The King’s Duel


The Final Question?

Can the deep insightful King of Clubs
raise the final victory
over the overachieving
game playing
often clever
king of Diamonds?

Swords raised
not a final nod.
Eyes glaring steel blue and hazel green
facial lines fixed
not even a twitch.

Slowly woven like the Earth to the Moon
moving like a dance
made a circlular pattern
on the floors of onyx black

The King of Diamonds
so sure of himself
believed no fight
from the Club herself,

But the Club held dear
the truth in her heart
The Lord Almighty
was there
from the start.

Round and round
so slowly they moved.
The Diamond King’s lips
snarled a smirk
as he spit tw’ord ‘er shoes.

And the King of Clubs
shot darts of fire
her eyes told,
“He’za liar!”

The one eyed King
dazzled with diamonds galore

But, The King of Clubs
kept her mind
on the chore.

Over and around
the blades slowly moved
then picked up the pace
without any shoes…

Cling, clang, ding and gwong
the blades met
rangling a song

“All shiny and strong,
the song of a Savior,
That life is a gift
given by Him
and though expect treasure
we don’t always win…”

And so,
The Kings welded
their swords in the air
cutting their skins
and toppling their hair.

No whining
nor whimpering came from the two
but fierce wellbred bickering
whipped whistled twang pue.

The blades never ceased
the clang of the strikes,
faster and harder
beaten the life

Of one Diamond King
and the other a Club
but The Savior stepped in
to straightened their thuds.

Now, it came to pass
that The Diamond King
tipped his hat,
and gave up his crown,
and that; was that.

And The King of Clubs
Surrendered her heart
at a cross
on a hill~
decidedly smart.

For the hill is where
all kings will bow
made not of fools…
but of heroes,
Those, i am’s, of Thou art.







Poem 3

Fairy Beauty was captured because she was on a quest to find the perfect person to love her. And, because of her innocence, kindness and inability to defend herself, she is captured by a man, who is not for her ultimate good well-being. On the road of searching for a god-like man, she was captured by a sociopathic man….


In the poem, the man in the forest she meets, is a god-like man whom she created in her mind. It was a man similar to what she felt her father was and perhaps he is her biological father on her god-like quest for a great man to love and marry her.

So now, for poem 3:

The Forest Man


Like a drug; I’m compelled.
An index finger points the way.
The path covered in vagueness.
Only trust leads my day.

The forest is my storybook.
Few paths I’ve known.
Some are smooth and uneventful.
Some are treacherously bare.

Once a lesson completes.
And a short respite occurs.
The forest fairies find me.
And, another adventure is assured.

My feet are weary from twists and stones.
Tripping along the way.
But nonetheless, the spirits find me.
And again, I’ve nothing to say,

Excuses are lame.
Whining creates more.
So, quietly I proceed.
Wandering, the magic roads of lore.


Passing through the brush.
Carrying my satchel of prayers.
Perhaps I’ll pass a man.
A man who relinquishes terrors.

And I’ll look for him in the forest.
There, pray he shall find me.
Illuminate, our eyes will sparkle.
Then, my spirit shall be set free.




Beauty does escape the evil sh’man; however, the road home is often filled with in trepidation as she is always looking over her shoulder watching and waiting for the reappearance of her captor. Her fears are at times delusional as she struggles with being tormented and falling back into his hands or similar hands. She knows that she is vulnerable because of her naivety.


Poem 4:

Escaping and Returning to The Forest


Cold, cold, cold the morning; cold.
Coffee warms my hands.
Unraveling memories; seeming dull
Still night dreams, do unfold.

Low clouds covered the forest
Eyes that see not before us.

But, follow the pale path
Neath the weary feet.
See it! There! Underneath!


Wet leaves covered the way.
Then look closely if you may.

Sprinkled sparkling faerie dust
Shimmers neath the leaves.
And, if you follow the shining lights
Those sights shall take the lead.

Following the strath of twigs and weeds …
Growing near the path
The wetness of the leafy stuff
Still bares the night time mask…

Here, there, turns and twists
Mark a path which won’t resist.
All night long seeking an end.
Running, skipping and stumbling on shin.

Searched, knocked, and sought
Only not to find
Any faerie myths…
Oh, how my heart…
Does pine.

I tired of your game,
Oh, Faerie
Running your path night long.
Then decided I,
Best to wander home.

And, vaguely remembering sanity
Since safety departed me,
Calling from the woods
It growled ferociously.

Sad and disturbed
Missed you again!
And, lowering my face,
Bares a fools return.

Hey, Look yonder!!!
There! My Mims!
To be greeted by their love!

The open arms of my kin.

My family who loves me dearly,

And they who prayed me  home

That night.

Even despite myself. ,

Even despite myself.


Special thanks to my Late mother, Babe, my Skipper B, my Dear sister Carol, my daughter Elysia and my son Joel. They “who safely, yea, safely prayed me home that night.”


Beauty is still on her journey with the help of her family to find sanity so she continues to seek refuge at home once again. She is still running from the shadows, the bumps and bangs in the middle of the night or day. She shakes from fear whether real or imagined.


Poem 5:

Trying to Find Home


“Awe,” the radiance; so bright.
Then, follow it, with all might.
The road course shall lead by day
Rocks, turns, stickers and curves
Climb anyway…


My prejudiced thoughts;
Lofty visions of you.
Fiery images deflect a golden hue.
Imagined you, bronzed, dazzling, and vein.
We danced; then came the rain.


Caught too long there.
Idol thoughts; so dear.
Washed away; with my tear.
My arms bound, and mouth sealed.
Woven. Hey! What’s the deal?


OH, My God! I’ve Been Caught!
The coven’s web intently taut!
The feast I am. His delight.
Oh, fairy friend! By the firelight!
Here I am!


Now the spiders home virtually unseen,
Vaguely tucks into that corner beam.
But, see the dim light, growing so bright?
A fairy severs the silk, so tight.
And, falling from the web of fright.


Still arms tangled by silk threads
Pushing out bracing the fall
The spider and the fairy brawl
Wham, Bam, to and fro, from the deathly fight they bow
Looking, whom’s, my fairy friend? Noticing it must be Joe.


Underneath the spider
Joe waves thumbs up, You’re alright!
Now run like hell! To the light!
Run away little bait!
For, the fate of the firefly might be too late…



By Bonnie Jennings 1/12/2010




While on the road to recovery of being a doormat personality, Beauty finds a new friend who comes to stay with her during the getting home and settled sate. And, it was then that Faerie Jo (JR’s) entered her life. It is true that Faerie Jo made Beauty laugh again; however, Faerie Jo had some deviant behaviors the Beauty was amused by. He made her laugh though she never experimented with his mischievous suggestions. But, Beauty does thank Faerie Jo for the recovery of smiles, amusement in life and deep hearted laughter she had lost while in the deep woods of fears.


Poem 6:

Joe’s Seduction and Return to The Forest






Joe’s Seduction


Innocently spoken

lips of faerie red.

Failure to answer

deliberately unsaid


“Come On!

You want to play!

I see in your eyes

And OH,

By the way”

“At the end of the day

You’ve nothing to say?

We’ll see.



“Come now

Sing and dance with me.

By the time night comes

We’ll use the key.”


“The window thought closed

We’ll not use tonight

For as the sun sets

The door will shine bright.”


“And, just as before

When the Moon was full

You danced by the light of the fire.

And your life…not dull.”


“So come on Old Foe

I challenge you today

to come to the Forest

But, don’t forget to pray.”


Now Joe’s eyes

faerie green-blue

Her hair of red waves fell

Her waist little too.


Charming alluring daring

Joe seduced the weakening victim

O so sweet her voice

before Joe actually kicked-em.


“I can’t, I won’t !

Now, GO JOE!

far from me!

Out! You Elphin mischief-maker!

There! The window!

Now, LET Me BE !”


Pouty lips and bats of faerie lashes

A wink of Joe’s eyes

She extends her hand

“Come now, come nigh,

And do not say, good-bye.”

“My human friend

Please don’t cry.”


Joe’s fingers crossed

After her word

“You know you want to come.”

Joe’s clever tenderness heard.


Then their eyes met

Joes soul stronger by far

It reached out to point the way

To the forest

By declare.


Weeping, sobbing and uttering,


For with you faerie


“You LIE, you CHEAT, You’ve NEVER TOLD the truth!

Away from me little demon!

For I a clever sleuth !”

“I found out your tricks

All slippery twists and turns.

You’ll not lead me to the forest

The fires there

Will not burn!”


Blink blink. Smile smile.

Joe’s gestures summoned otherwise

Lies, cheats, twists and turns?

“You know how you loved it?

O, compromise!”

“Hey, for now,

Why don’t we play?

Remember the time

Remember the day?”

“You chased me,

And I chased you

Around and about

And away we flew.”

“And, I gave you wings

So you could fly.

You wore them one day

And flew sky-high.”


Up and away

or top of the trees!

O, how you flew.

Then, crashed down on your knees.

You cried a little

Afraid to smash

But, I caught you.

Do you remember that?


By day we flew

through tops of trees.

At night we danced,

Howled while burned the fire

With the breeze.


The snow fell

white branches below

cold air on our faces

you didn’t say, no.


Confessing your fears,

Don’t make me fly!

Saying, Damn you fairies!

But, we took you so high.

But, once on top of forest trees,

cold air blew

threw majestic hair.

Then, smiles over took you.

You’d no more cares.


Remember Foe

The human flew

Above The Earth,

And, safely returned

To the fires hue.

Tasting faerie brew

Though freezing; made warm.

Tasting our food,



Now, whats the harm?”


So, come now,

God of the sky.

Let us dance, cheer and sing

And, please, don’t lie.


For flying, your game fare

The faerie sort

A dare!


So, stay if you must…

But, winter is coming

and near the first frost.

Kindling our fires

Don’t get lost.


The invite is yours.

Extends the Faerie hand

In Spring depart

From kindred land.


Think it over,

I’ll return once.

To ask you to play

to ask you to dance.



Quiet are you

Not so sure?

Your soul inside

Embarrassingly pure.


Judge others,

And they judge you.

But, in Faerie land

All tiny feet

Wear the same tiny shoe.


“So, I’ll leave you this morning

To think for yourself.

I’ll return ONCE more.


When The Moon shall wane

Then, you should thin,

Follow the elf.


But, one more time

I ask you to follow

Before The Moon’s full light is gone.

Then, don’t dilly-dallow.


Joe moves to the window

Her faerie finger points up.

Then, her faerie wings take to flight.

But, before leaving from captives sight


Joe turns to wink

And salutes goodbye.









In the year 2011, Beauties mother dies and it is in her memory, that this poem was written. “Babe,” Beauties mother was life’s weaver of magic and good dreams. This poem is about Babe, who helped Beauty so many times. This poem is a thank you to Babe for her constant help in real life and beyond….


Poem  7:

Autumn Weaving with Babe,

my weaver of dreams and magic 2011






Weave in and out skip two colors of dreams

Raise the level of forest green

now circle around the lights magic stream.


Yellows and oranges

Parfet and red

perfect strands of marbled threads


Dashing there yonder

up over Mars

bringing back a handful Stars


Wild horses charge

Black stallions at night

Taming the dragon with beacons of light


Casting them into fortune and fame

Causing the wind

Making it bend.


Lastly, there are many more in The Winter Fairy series of Poetry, but these are the most significant to the experiences of abuse. This poem is about the road of recovery. Victims have a tendency to repeat damaging relationships. So, in the recovery process, Beauty separates herself from any possibilities of dysfunctional relationships until she can learn to say, “No,” and she can recognize  the “red flags” that charismatic abusers often present. Until that time comes, and maybe it won’t, Beauty rests, heals, and discovers her own needs for self love.


Poem 8:

Leaving Adam


Leaving Adam

Eons advance and passed away.
Thought, theory, speculation and opinions, die.
Glancing through lenses, and squinting, at the sky,
Adam, pointing, at the twinkling specs, named the brilliant ballet.
So, following mankind, up the mountain,
And ascending a rocky path; we embarked.
My feet followed his, upward, to where the sky was arched.
His staff pointed, and the heavens, then filled me, as a refreshing fountain.
An advocate of The Father of Man, I desired what he sought,
Thus’ left the home of my family and upheld his zealous quest
Confidently, I abided and affirmed his every request.
Even, wore his belief’s; did just as he taught.
One day, dared I asked, Adam, the man of science,
How is Eve today?
And, if looks could kill, then Eve is dead, thus’ left us only, to pray.
Deceased, she is. He answered, with a chill of neglectful defiance.
Man of Science, I spoke so boldly.
At the mountain top; we stand
The stars, you named, and held, in your hand,
However, love you murdered, so coldly.
This day, I choose the mother
Her love, which first found me
Within the warm and welcoming spirit, in there, dwells she.
 And, today, I accept non-other.
So, progressing and moving towards her;
 Over, the cliff of doubt, rapidly grabbing her hem, I aim.
Because, after carefully, considering your treacherous, pains,
There, in her grace ~ I seek her, safe harbor
I choose faith, that which, I cannot see. 





©2010 by Bojenn or Bonnie Gay Jennings or Bonnie Jennings
@Bonnie Gay Jennings, or Bonnie Jennings or Boondoggling with Bojenn

*Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Bonnie (Gay) Jennings, or Bojenn or Bonnie Jennings with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. All artwork is also the production and creation of Bonnie Jennings.


My email:

Thank you for reading. I pray you found insight.

God bless you.

Bonnie Jennings or Bojenn




March Poetry 2016




An etherial door unlatched before her

A magical kingdom summoned the daughter

Stepping through the portal, sees visions

The elusive setting was truly surreal

Blue the sky with downy clouds

Flowing waters, clear as the heavens

The entry shut, behind her sigh

Where hot sand and somber colors

Closed forever, barrens of eternal grey

Smiling huge, she dances displaying animations

Through that entrance, found boundless joy

Soon forgetting the desert of rocks


Troubled Makers

Lying untamed in the psyche of humans

Is a desire to create havoc

The roaring lion, is what it is

A trouble maker.

Oh, the drama, dear is so much fun!

While they stir the pot, before they run

Leaving behind chaos and shame

All the while laughing, at their disdain

And The Borderline Personality says,

“Who me!” Denying all trouble and blaming you

Getting away with their chaotic charms

Lying in wait for their next un-virtuous harms

Never placing the proper response

Refusing ownership and not a glance

Looking at nothing but their trouble

Stating that its not their bother


The Gypsy Goddess and Her Animals

Seeing needs of unloved humans

Appropriately assigns the animals

Rabbits for intimacy and doves for love

An the owl she sends for lacking wisdom

Dressed in fabrics of Mother Earth

Colored by Indian folklore and black dirt

Her aroma of wild pheromones allure

All animals united by her demure

Thank you artist

Two Teddie sat in a wooden chair

Dust had gathered from lack of care

The years passed while they waited

So patiently, since she went to heaven

Her mother neglected them because ~

The sights of them, reminded her of love

The Teddies fur, crushed and torn

Contained the caresses after she was born

And once in awhile, the mother hugged them

Found a blond hair, caught in the hem

And a lingering scent from a little kiss

On the fabric, of the Teddies lips



©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved


About Love and Orchards

Cambodia Killing Field Choeung Ek


Chuckled, the muse of delight

A Pecan orchard had wandering paths

Lost in the myriad of thoughts on love

The Moon so full on that eve

Led to where a few longings be

Whilst Jasmine captured memories 

Tumbling at night under the trees

Tangled auburn hair and yours’ black

Groped together there under stars

The horned owl watched in questioning shock

Embracing as one along time ago

The aroma of peaches tossed to and fro

Walked quietly, my bare feet met strath

The Jasmine asked, would I come back?

I don’t know, I replied, and that is that

The Pecan branches blew so soft

The Moon lit the meandering path

I wondered then what life might bring

Would I ever find this way again

Saying goodbye to the orchard at eighteen

Have not traveled that path joined with any hand

But, aromatic memories so fond still permeate 

The memories of youthful passionate quests 

© Bonnie Jennings 2016 All Rights Reserved. Thank you


Featured Image -- 3091


Awe Spring has arrived with magnificent flowers and bees
So cool the day and comfy the nights and showers of rain
The sun, so brilliant, as if it’s first rays, lead into summers eves
Thunderstorms accompany the symphony while winter feigns
Turbulent winds blow the plains and make havoc on many trees
And villages sometimes lost in Spring’s tornadoes that wained
Bursts of wind left behind pollen and yellow dust, and a sneeze
And all is as it should be, so green the earth now after the rains 

©Bonnie Jennings 2016


And now, John Rutter

For The Beauty of The Earth


Astrological Chart Wheel Comparing 9/11 to Brussels

Posted by The Mundane Astrologers this morning and I found it illuminating, and was amazed to see the obvious comparisons. They jumped out at me and I am not an expert at any means…

I’m curious to see what others say so I’m refraining from making any comments..

Please, by all means, post any comments if you’re able to see any similar placements..



This is a conversation that I added with permission to post from The Mundane Astrology site on FB.

Janne Vallamo’s interpretation… Uranus, by the way, conjuncts Atropos and Eris, while neatly opposing Lilith. That’s the recipe for a suicide bombing. Chiron/Ceres/SN is not a good combo when it’s on Markab: Violence, honours and riches’ “Star of Sorrow”, disgrace, ruin; literary, legal problems, accidents; cuts, stabs, surgery. The exact Saturn-Jupiter square during an eclipse I take to mean serious danger in transportation and travel. As might be expected, there was a bus crash in Spain just before the attack, killing a bunch of students (Jupiter) of various nationalities (Jupiter). The Russian plane crash is part of the same setup, caused by arctic conditions (Saturn) and the excessive perseverance (Saturn) of the pilot (Jupiter). Now, a religiously motivated (Jupiter) bombing of travelers (Jupiter) of 40 different nationalities (Jupiter) at an airport (Jupiter). The subway attack was of course Pluto/MC in action, since Pluto rules tunnels.

Nemesis in Scorpio was opposing Vesta on Caph and Hamal, which is not good at all. Caph: A troublemaker for Islam. Hamal: Violence, cruelty, brutality, also the “Healer”.

ME: At first glance notice the similarities are amazing.
My interpretation

9/11 in the 9th house The Moon 27◦ Gem, The South Node 03 Cancer, Jupiter 11 Cancer
Brussels in the 12th house Jupiter 16◦ Scorpio, Moon 18◦ Scorpio, S Node 21◦ Scorpio

9/11 Sun 18◦ Scorpio in the 12th house in opposition to Brussels sun in the 6th house 02◦ Taurus

Janne: If you want my opinion on that, I’m sorry I’ll have to diverge from the point in question, because I just find myself staring at the Brussels Chiron/Ceres/SN on the 911 Lilith. Knowing that’s the location of Markab, I think we have indubitable proof that Markab really is a Fixed Star worth taking seriously. Now that that’s been dealt with, yes, the Sol-Luna conjunction just a minute off exact is definitely spectacular. I also find it interesting that Jupiter is on Mizar, associated with the following: Connected with fires of a catastrophic extent and mass calamities; Vasishta, one of the 7 Rishis (Hindu sages) of Ursa Major. Mass calamities, anybody? Smoke and flames, anybody? Jupiter may well be the giver of good fortune, but that day it was in the mood for disasters and it was just a bit off the Moon, which it probably exactly conjuncted when the bombers were packing up their tools of destruction and calling the cab. Of course, the Moon conjuncted the NN too… The NN on Denebola: Criticism, perseverance, control, lack of imagination, honours, undesirable associates, mental illness, happiness turns to despair, disease, natural disasters, catastrophes. See, there’s the catastrophe thing coming up again? Too much bad stuff in the sky at the same time, all pointing towards destruction.

Of course, the Brussels Sun neatly squaring the 911 Mars and Nodes is pretty obvious too. The Sun is on Deneb Kaitos: Laziness, self destruction, nervousness, illness, inhibitions, loss. There’s that destruction thing again, this time self destruction, as befits a suicide bombing. The 911 NN is on Propus: Overconfidence, pride, shamelessness, violence, eminence, manifest intelligence. Yeah, the FBI was overconfident, the attackers proud, shameless, violent and eminently intelligent. Never assume your enemy is dumb or that he’ll always stay that way, even if he today is.

As for the 911 Mars, it’s perfectly located on Spiculum: Eye trouble, blindness, depression, hopelessly doomed, morbid religious outlook, no concern for human life; a nebula in the upper part of the Bow of the Archer. Yeah, people were hopelessly doomed, their eyes were full of smoke, dust and grit, the attack was carried out by terrorists who had a morbid religious outlook and no concern for human life. Most depressive, wasn’t it?

The 911 SN was on Polis: Martial desires, high ambitions, domination, keen perception, success; horsemanship, truthfulness; spiritual power. A double star at the top of the Bow of the Archer. Martial desires, you betcha. Ambitions ran about 30000 feet high, actually. Domination was the goal and with the Mars conjunction even more so. The attack was a success. I’m pretty sure Osama Bin Laden owns a racehorse or two. People are still clamoring to hear the truth about 911, whatever that may be. As for spiritual power, a religiously motivated attack sort of invariably is based on the assumption that a higher spiritual power commands so. See how neatly it all wraps itself up with Fixed Stars? Perhaps the best bit, however, is the Mercury/AC on Algorab: Scavenging, destructiveness, repulsiveness, malevolence, fiendishness and lying, suicide, greed, injuries. Mercury rules the news and that’s the day’s news in a nutshell. Everybody remembers the pictures and the stories will never be forgotten. How could anybody forget seeing hundreds of people jump to their deaths in order to avoid death by fire?
Like · Reply · 2 hrs
Ed Kohout
Ed Kohout So, nothing about 9/11 Sun and Brussels Moon being on 77 Leonis? Surely Jupiter is beneficial for someone, perhaps the operatives who have created these synthetic “terror” events to perpetuate this very awful “War on Terror” that puts big bucks in the…See More
Like · Reply · 2 hrs
Janne Vellamo
Janne Vellamo I’ve connected the attacks to Muslim extremists, who of course did appear on security camera and who did become celebrated heroes for the global Jihadist movement. Any other connections I’m happy to leave to the conspiracy theorists, of whom there’s no…See More
Like · Reply · 1 hr
Ed Kohout
Ed Kohout Ahh, well, I guess that’s settled. It’s Muslim extremists, timing things astrologically! I guess that’s the conspiracy you give a fuck about. It’s all on TV, and that’s good enough for you.
Like · Reply · 1 hr
Janne Vellamo
Janne Vellamo Yes, there was a time when timing battles astrologically was a common practice, actually. In the west, astrology went out of fashion, especially in the military, but in the East timing battles, declarations of war and surprise attacks astrologically, never disappeared. ISIS is not dumb, just different.
Like · Reply · 1 hr
Ed Kohout
Ed Kohout And this is all easily concluded, thanks to fixed star lore and no mention of the many charts for this “ISIS” entity. I guess you can explain what this non-dumb group is hoping to achieve with these tactics, as they don’t seem to be doing anyone any good, except for the war profiteers.
Like · Reply · 1 hr


ME:  Neri Balthazar,: Ok, besides the fact that the moon, node and Jupiter are near each other in both charts, I don’t see many similarities. Is there something here I am supposed to be seeing that I am not? One moon/node/jupiter is conjunct and eclipse, and the other isn’t. What am I not seeing?

Like · Reply · 36 mins
Bonnie Jennings
Bonnie Jennings Neri Balthazar, I suppose that you are addressing me? Not sure, but my first impressions were the planets were squaring each other.. and 9/11’s three planets were in the natural home of Sagittarius which in this case The Moon in the is in gemini and the archer is of double personalities. Also in the 10th house normally of Sag and now of Cancer would indicate that the s. node (where we came from) came from a place of home and security into Sag the archer, and, And Jupiter also in the 10th house (Sag/ the archer) is now also in cancer. (Willing to go home/his heaven, sacrifice/martyrdom from infidels… As I said, I’m new at this, and this was my first observation…

Like · Reply · 10 hrs · Edited
Bonnie Jennings
Bonnie Jennings Regarding Brussels to 9/11
In the 12th house normal home of Pieces (spiritual, emotional, intuitive, artist Are the signs of Virgo/Libra.
Jupiter, The Moon and The S Node are governed by Virgo (analytical, interrogative, honest, dogmatic), In my opinion since Virgo is now over this house, would make for Jupiter (expansive) in Virgo would create a grandiose situation of dogmatic ideological martyrdom, The Moon in the natural home of Pieces now Virgo would add to extra moodiness which adds to Piecian energy and moodiness. The S node in the 12th house ruled by Pieces (from where they’ve been) (Pieces emotional squaring S node of 9/11 (Been in Cancer) now Aggressive and confrontational Virgo have a soul who has a strong dogmatic ties to the past and convictions worth dying for in a terrorist opinion….

Like · Reply · 10 hrs
Bonnie Jennings
Bonnie Jennings Then the suns are in opposition… and these are my first observations..

Like · Reply · 10 hrs
Bonnie Jennings
Bonnie Jennings Observing the N nodes in Brussels 21 ◦ Pieces
Going to spirituality and leaving Virgo (the accuser of the brethren). It conjucts Lilith also in the 6th house. Lilith 22◦ Pieces in
the natural house of Virgo… We see again…
Dogmatic for spiritual reasons (Allah) and is willing to participate in martyrdom. The conjunct of Lilith is ominous.

Like · Reply · 9 hrs · Edited
Bonnie Jennings
Write a comment…


About Hell


 Light at the end of a tunnel in Hades

About hell



In my dreams visitors so many

Nightly ghouls come wanting to talk

Pointing, showing, telling thinking, I’m lost

Non of them smile very often

All have something, they must say

Perhaps they are confused bout nothing

They think I have ethereal wisdom

Floating over my bed of judgement

Fleeting here and there forlornness questions

Often they are despaired and weary

Having no peace of their own

Searching for closures from this world

Rattled by deaths untimely and raw

Unrestful beings to whom next go

Traveling the night to continents apart

Looking for someone in lights departs

Begging pleading asking chittering jabbing unrest

Just help them find the place

Of peace, safety where they rest

Nudging my arm, pushing to awaken

They have no boundaries

There is no time, It is their plight

To find peace from once lived

In human form, in human skin

They are demanding, they insist

To be their medium, they all insist

Find their relief from distress

Open the door of hades, and release

Them into rest and eternal sleep

The Fog of Evening




A fog of memories oh so vague and ambiguous enveloped me

Recalling names, places, times and events elude me

They’re not playing games, you see

The realness of their timing concerns me

And, I do not question the whys or reasons

“It is what it is,” and there are no lies or lack of understanding

The problem it seems are those who do not question

The vagueness of minds and the fog of my evening












Now Grace Is ~ De Colores


Healing Jesus

After many years, I found grace to be ~

All the characteristics that he gave me

On a hill so long ago

He died for me to give me hope

In a world often misleading

He gave me peace and his gift of believing


And when the world seems turbulent and grave

Seeing above from that which he died to save

Understanding of God from why he came

To save our world from darkness and shame

A love so pure it’s hard to understand

His mercy and grace for every man


The thief, the priest, the common man

In his offering  great compassion at hand

To anyone whose heart flowers to understand

That mercy and grace are for every land

And that he died to love a callous band


And this is love for a world lost in chaos and shame


DeColores by Joan Baez!

All In Color DeColores!


Spanish Lyrics:

DeColores, decolores se visten los campos en la primavera.DeColores,

decolores son los pajarillos que vienen de afuera.

DeColores, decolores es el arco iris que vemos lucir.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

DeColores, decolores brillantes y finos se viste la aura.

DeColores, decolores son los nil reflejos que el sol atesora.

DeColores, decolores se veste eo dimante que vemos lucir.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

Canta el gallo, cant el gallo con el quiri, quiri, quiri, quiri, quiri.

La gallina, la gallina con el cara, cara, cara, cara, cara.

Los polluellos, los polluelos con el pio, pio, pio, pio, pi.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

I por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi.

English Lyrics:

DeColores, decolores the fields love to dress in all during the springtime.

DeColores, decolores the birds have their clothing that comes every season.

DeColores, decolores the rainbow is vested across the blue sky.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

DeColores, decolores we witness the sun up on clear and bright mornings.

DeColores, decolores the sun gives its treasures, God’s light to His children.

DeColores, decolores the diamond will sparkle when brought to the light.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

(There are more of the lyrics, but this is what I remember)

Sings the rooster, sings the rooster with his quiri, quiri, quiri, quiri, quiri.

And the cluck hen, and the cluck hen with her cara, cara, cara, cara, cara.

And the babe chicks, and the babe chicks with their pio, pio, pio, pio, pie.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

DeColores, and so must all love be of every bright color to make my heart cry.

Amorous Cats in Broad Daylight



Amorous Cats in Broad daylight

The he-cats feeling frisky on clover

In March, on the second day of spring

The she-cat admired their admirations

She watched curiously as they play

They lack modesty in their tumbles

Sniffing catnip between their rumbles

Sniffing places ~ I dare not say

In polite poetry conversations 

Surely as this day

The he-cats amorously rendezvous

Out in open flirtatiously at midday 

The she-cat is a want to be

While they posture to her dismay

She watches the tom who is romantic

And she smells floral petunias 

With one eye open she glances at ~

The amorous cats, who are gay

It’s World Poetry Day!

Today is The World Poetry Day.  

When my mother was dying, I read to her Walt Whitman‘s poem O Captain, My Captain.

It was when I was half way through the reading that I could hardly finish the words, as it reflected the fact she, my mother, was departing. Her ship was ‘leaving rack,’ and her ‘prize was won,’ and I can say no more…

Today I recognize Mr. Walt Whitman….



O Captain! My Captain! BY WALT WHITMAN

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.  O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,

For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck,

You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult O shores, and ring O bells!

But I with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.


Source: Leaves of Grass (David McKay, 1891)


Youtube video with Robin Williams and an excerpt from this great poem, and is an empowering moment for poets…

At this time I must recognize my mother, Babe, who awakened me every morning of my childhood days with a poem from Poet Omar Khayyam 

Awake for morning in the bowl of night

Has flung the stones that put the stars to flight

And low the hunter of The East

Has caught the sultan turret in a noose of light


Also I want to thank my 9th grade teacher (a nun) whose name, regretfully, I can not recall but she loved poetry and English Lit so much, her exuberance thrilled me.

@ St. Vincent’s Academy for Women Shreveport, La…  


And me… A picture of Bojenn




This is my favorite poem that I’ve written to display today on National Poetry Day


This is my link to my poem and my page


I hope you will enjoy reading poetry today!



“Nurse Forensic Witness” a WP challenge

Your Watchman

The forensic nursing course that lasted a year scared the living hell out of me. Thinking that I wanted to become a CSI took the course enthusiastically. Since solving puzzles was a hobby of mine, I thought this line of work would fascinate me, as I could help solve mysteries surrounding unusual deaths.

The course had a semester on photographing the crime scene. From that instruction, we learned how to not only photograph the entire area, as if, we were the investigator and the jury, but also, as if, we were the perpetrator. And, seeing a crime scene before it happened, as a criminal, took intuitive work.

Before the end of the semester, I started taking my camera with me everywhere. I imagined that places were crime scenes to enhance my skills.

So, the first step in photographing a crime scene was to see the place/residence from outside on the street in front, on all sides and rear. Photographing, from an angle on the street and all perspectives, involved the photographer concentrating on the all entrances. Starting  from the street to a gate or to a yard/courtyard, doors, gardens, knockers, sidewalks, dogs, and etc. It is imperative for the jury to have pictures that show the story before entering a crime scene. The photographer must produce an image story  that is easy for jury members to understand. The photographs become a visual witness.

There would be 360 degrees of photographs from every aspect involved. The actual assault pictures are placed last, in the order of photographs. Not all pictures are selected for a trial, but the best ones, that tell the most accurate story, are used.

To become a witness, one must become emotionally attached to the situation and that can become a draining experience. Witnesses bare a huge responsibility because they are the ones telling a story that could change history for many people.



The 1966 movie Blow Up is a story about a photographer who accidentally photographs a crime/murder. Although the 1966 movie was sexually provocative for that time, it was also captivating. One photograph would reveal a face of an assassin who was hiding in the bushes. The story revolves around the witness, the camera and its photographer.  I chose this video because Daniel Ammeter did a fine job recreating the scene which was at the same location 40 years later.



Published on Mar 20, 2012

This is a film location documentary of the movie BLOW UP (1966). The movie was filmed in London and was one of the most influencial movies of the 60ties. The film location documentary is filmed and arranged by Daniel Ammeter. It was made in November 2011.





<a href=””>Witness</a&gt;

The Big Lie


Donald Trump is a smoke screen and Hilary is a want to be… Puppets merely puppets

We The People have been lied to over and over again …

This is neither a democrat or republican issue… I am a conservative, but now I’m an independent person who is reaching out to others who see this as not a political issue, but an issue of we need each other…


Extraterrestrial, Tessla, Energy, Crop circles, Space, politics and everyday bullshit.


This is a MUST WATCH…. Wake up world!



Fighting, The Daily Prompt


Eaten  horse is good fer ur complection, er, looks


About Doing Magic, Fighting The Urge


“Roll the video, please.”

A man, slender, tall and who wore wire rim glasses asked,

“Do you practice magic? He assumed the rumors were true, so he asked her.

Replying thoughtfully she replied,

“When you meet someone and have a feeling of dislike, do you turn your disdain to appreciation?”

He seemed to wonder where the conversation was going. Trying to answer honestly, correctly, said,

“I meet people everyday that I don’t particularly like.”

Refraining the question to the man, she asked again,

“Do you take the ill feelings about them and turn them into good thoughts?”

“No,” he replied.

“There you have it. You answered your own question. You do black magic everyday,” she iterated.

“I don’t do magic, I’m a Christian,” abruptly he stated.

“Mr. Smith, let me explain. Our feelings are our magic. If you have a witches mantra in front of you and read it, the mantra means nothing. However, if you read it with emotions and feelings than you have performed magic. A witch can’t produce magic without feelings,” she further explained.

He gave her a glare of entrapment. His eyes had the look of kill or death in them.

“See, you’re doing witchcraft now.” She wanted to give him a mirror or show him his facial gestures and physical posturing.


He didn’t stop, he didn’t move, he didn’t blink.

“Furthermore,” she added, “Unless, you change your tone and body language and wish well of all men, then you have performed witchcraft. Witchcraft is performed using emotions, not words on paper. It is the thoughts behind the paper that moves a mountain, or the desires behind the thoughts.”

He was really angry with this witch, at this point.

“You see Mr. Smith, dark magic, black magic remains just that, until it is turned into happiness and light. Dark thoughts can be changed to become a blessing rather than a curse. So, we all do black magic, until we turn all disdainful imaginations into pure, clear, good and loving thoughts. Until then, all bad designs remain dark magic. And, all bad thoughts create vibrations, as well as, good thoughts. Good feelings also have a vibrational frequency that is much different.” She cocked her head to look at him and to see if he acknowledged understanding of the explanations.

Mr. Smith was squirming. He wanted to leave.

She continued to reiterate,” You see, the person who entered your space, that you disliked, is a recipient of your dark magic. Your vibrational attitudes set a force into action to that person or any person. It is an unseen force, but if that person is at all sensitive, they will feel your bad thoughts and feel your ill vibrations and those vibrations create fear or a negative emotion.

Mr. Smith listened slightly, as she was getting interesting.

“You see Mr. Smith, we all do dark magic or witchcraft every day. It is until we choose to turn our bad thoughts into good ones that it all remains witchcraft. She smiled and turned from him but she couldn’t help from noticing, Mr. Smiths countenance had softened. He was understanding the explanation. His facial expression had changed. He was no longer angered at the woman he swore was a witch. No, Mr. Smith was quiet. He sank a little and the harshness in his face and determined look of hatred was gone.


After seeing Mr. Smith’s change the councilor turned to the jury and then to the judge. She says, “If it pleases the court, I now rest my case.”


Quarks and Atoms


Similar to a galaxy spinning in time
Measures and degrees relations to physics
Worlds and molecules and atoms be
Thicker, heavier, denser or sparse
Spinning in their community on a coarse
United by their gravity and specific force
Ignoring mankind as it flows in unison
Though truly mankind rarely notices
Tiny quarks and black space not hidden
Just so small, but significantly living
Wildly busy and holding prayers
The littlest places, but no one cares
But in the tunnels black between quarks
The energy moves vibrating this heaven
The space between iron and chemical seven
Make a place that causen weights to levin
Billions and trillions of atoms maybe
Your eyes, so that you can see
A world of beauty beyond this place
A world of atoms of molecules and me

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

Doodles by me

Easter Poetry dedicated to Emily Dickinson



There seems a different place

Ever quiet from all despair

A sun that shines immortal

A night that is so fair

Forgetting all razzled minuets

Forgetting all earthly cares

There is a silent spring

Flowing water and fresh air

Brilliant are the florals

The cottage on the way

Where the hare eats tarots

In the beauty of noonday

Hearing a squirrel chatter

The cat just lays in vain

There is a distant place

Come where peace remains

Come friend beholding

A place called kingdom come.





©2016 Bonnie Jennings Easter Poems

Remembering Emily Dickinson

All Rights Reserved

4 Chambers in Your Heart

4 Chambers in Your Heart



There are four chambers in your heart

Born with red blood pumping, from the start

But, something happened along your way

Am I responsible for this, dare I say


You who were so beautiful

Called, the fair headed child

The four chambers pumping red

But soon, there was one, that must have died


Dead to cares of life and bitterness, so long

Tell me fair hair child where I went wrong?


Three chambers pumping red

Became two, thus, instead

And the two chambers tried so hard

To overcome hatred and anger that bled


In your mind, overcoming your heart

Oh, fair haired child, please don’t depart

Then, the two chambers became one

But, the one fell apart ~ working so hard


Dead to cares of life and bitterness so long

Tell me fair hair child where I went wrong?


Now, your world is black, and filled with grief

Fair haired child, you must believe

Intended for goodness and mercy to achieve

Peace and safety and rest in your being


Listen child and see the light!

Follow the light rays following their path

To goodness and love in your heart

Follow child, lest there be, forever in the dark


Dead to cares of life and bitterness so long

Tell me fair hair child where I went wrong?


This way! Take my hand.

Hold tight and embrace and leave this land

Of anger, hatred, demons and hell

Take my hand, and trust, and if you fell


Try again and again, for everyone fights

Trying to grab a piece of the light

And those who don’t make it, my fair haired one

Are those who don’t believe in goodness of the son…





K♣️ ©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

The photograph/digital art is by me