Signs 



Singularly sitting in quiet solitude 

Not expecting anything 

Swinging under the tree mid summer

The humidity hampered all but mosquitoes 

Just moving backwards and forth contemplating

The moment, the air, the silence, the sky, the sign

Wondering what was this lingering like a cloud 

The swirling gasses would surely be dismissed 

The meteorologist would give the definition 

But, I knew better than phenomenal rhetoric 

There it trickled down for over two hours 

Breathing was no longer natural and easy

But the thoughts of you were crystal clear

I don’t own you nor do you have claims to me 

Possessions of people aren’t bound by paper 

Freedoms are guaranteed by The Constitution 

So like the bird flies far from the fledging nest

I open my hands releasing my controlling quest 

The fowl with the broken wings took flight 

The horizon appeared hazy but the silhouette flew

Over the meadows and ore’ tops of trees, then from sight 

The moment was solemn reverence yearning for my maker

The one who answers questions and comforts mothers 

So we sat pondering the truths held within the signs 

We spoke on life and growing up and all that’s so blind 

Releasing our idols, letting go of our alters, knowing sublime 


Life is funny 

The only thing pleasurable are the small signs

The butterflies wings

The cats eyes

The dog that licks the broken heart 

The horses nose that nuzzles love 


And God gave us love you see

Look at the signs 

The eyes of lost animals 

The orphaned child 

The elderly in wheelchairs 

The little wonders in the Buttercup 

The wind within the willows 

These are the signs of love sent to you and me



BJ @2017

Animals are Gods Gifts to Love and Appreciate 

The bird sat perched in a cage 

Plucking feathers from its body

The man caged the little creature 

Why are they so desiring to conquer?

Elephants are slaughtered by horrible monsters 

They who hang heads above their mantels 

Who laugh and cheer toasting their egos

Killing the animals of Gods kingdom 

Why do people think it's alright 

To boil the dog at a Chinese banquet 

Why do people think it's sane

To not thank the animals that give them game 

They who hunt grinning like hyenas 

Dusty roads and places hidden from others

Wham-bam! Shot threw the head

Slain, the wild cat lays dead ~ right there 

No worries though the killers believe 

It's head will hang high for all to see

The idiots who have done this horrible things

Should surrender their heads for display ~ it seems 

Steeling Gods blessings from his thrones 

Capturing the bird and stopping the songs 

Using the ivory, its stupidity, it's wrong 

Why do people think it's okay 

To not leave Gods gifts alone 

God forgive us for harming the animals so dear

And not being responsible for causing their tears

A dog cries when hurting you see

The elephant protects its baby's from we

Who are evil by serial nature

No better than a cat torturing its catch

Aren't we more humane than animals  

Honestly …

We're far from peaceful beings ~ 

Not divine at all ~ quietly uttered sadly 

BJ@2017

Genuflection

Genuflection the perception of the angle of reflection

Sycophany and preservation of dignity less deemed 

Intolerable and despised as He was so rejected of men

Not popular among the accepted yet a few saw truth

Softly, quietly gazing for he held wisdom from youth

The piercing eyes as if brilliant white yellow rays shown

He looked at me, I looked at him, a Deus for my day

Meshing energy shrouded all encompassing we two

Intracellularly red blood cells fused becoming renewed

The vibrations shook the foundations wherein my shoes

My fingers felt alive, warmed by the visions of his deity

My hair stood from the static of electrifying radiant heat

And for that second, that moment, time held only one truth 

There is more to living mundaneness and one must merely seek

Its not hiding anywhere purposely away from you and I 

It has been here all along yet we are too busy with neigh

He said the kingdom of God is dwelling within each man

It is not in showy genuflection nor in sycophant conjured plans

It is found in the meadows amongst the deer and fluffy lambs

See it glowing in the golden barley tenderly blowing in the wind

The twissels from the birds and the wolves silhouette on high

The whales and whistles and tender thistles along the merry way

The twinkle in the stars, the warmth of the rays, the smell of babies feet

There within the broken heart are answers awaiting all defeat

In reverence we bow our thoughts and humbly lend our ears

Listening to the wind in trees as it whispers of majesty and ways

Following an overgrown path where no mans entered there into 

Poison ivy grows all around trying hard to alter the beliefs

But, trusting leads the way of a shepherd whose lost the sheep

But, that's okay says the Deus, because the flock has blinded thee
BJ 2017

Sycophany a natural or instinctive tendency to act so as to preserve one's own existence. There is a thin line between being sycophantic and seeking self-preservation. Sometimes, we say what people want to hear, rather than what …

The Diary of My Snake Bite 🐍


Day one…

I’m renaming this article to The Diary of My Snake Bite
Snake news for the day 
Warning: foot selfie posted of snake bite 🔺🐍
My family member suggested that I call animal control about the snake 🐍 in my yard that bit me. 
So, I spoke with animal control and they explained snake bites in East Texas. 
Snakes only insert the amount of venom they feel is protective for them at that moment 
Animal control will search the yard if I want them to 
Thank goodness they can not today 
Can’t deal with this now 
They said a copperhead can leave a 1 inch mark and so can our rattle snake 
A copperhead is not deadly but a rattlesnake can be 
A copperhead doesn’t leave neurological damage and a rattlesnake does; however, a copperhead’s worse symptoms are between day 10–30… 
Good news 

I don’t feel any neurological issues (update) my right leg is doing something weird.
Rattlesnake bites start necrosis pretty quickly depending on the amount of venom delivered. I don’t see any necrosis but bruising. Bruising can lead to necrosis, so I must keep an eye on it.
Anyway 

I’ve never been afraid of snakes 🐍 

Until now 

Dat Two

Later…. 1AM CST USA the saga of being bit my an unknown snake.
It’s the middle of the night, but before I fell asleep, the bone pain was unrelieved by Tylenol, my choice, even though, the doctor said that I will need something stronger. I said, no thank you. Well, I’m rethinking the need for something more.
The bone pain didn’t awaken me. It was the fact that I couldn’t breathe. My wheezing was inspiatory and expiratory. I struggled with the nebulizer and couldn’t get it fast enough. Finally, the respirations were even and unlabored. 
Perhaps this was brought on by a death of a family friend. RIP Robert Bowers. I don’t know what triggered this respiratory response but it awakened me gasping for air. 
The bone pain diminished while the breathing episode took front seat. Anyway it is over now, and I have thoughts about Robert and what he meant to my mother. They were great friends. 
So, my son arrives home tomorrow. I might check myself into the hospital just for observation. Surely, the death part has passed. It’s just the pain and breathing issues now, plus intermittent fevers.
Snake bite, or this one, causes bones to hurt like flu only worse. It’s constant and it doesn’t come and go. My right leg must be lifted up for it to cross my left. I have to help it a little.
Some have told me the fangs were those of a rattlesnake while I hold it to a copperhead as the thought of a rattlesnake is too much to perceive. Too frightening.
Anyway, later today, I will post more… until then, keep the entire world in your good thoughts and prayers… 
Rip Robert 🕊

Day 2.5

It is now the 7th day post bite

Since the copperhead’s response is delayed, meaning the worst is affrer 10-30 days of excruciating pain, fever and respiratory,

My guess this is a copperhead bite… a rattlesnake, I would have seen necrosis..
My Snake Bite saga will continue…
Bless the world 

The Q

          The Q ~ A second has past and perhaps a moment before Time is relatively nothing, but closing the backdoor Certainty is now, like a painting of the ocean shoresDrops stand still in films, tears lingering; therefore,Images of a living existence are what we hunger forDrawing our way through a maze is simply not folklore We are given a pallet of colors and canvas to implore Kindergartens, elementary, universities heretofore This is what is offered and then ~ nothing more BJ @2017

          The Dew

          I feel dampness in the air

          It is a reminder of years before 

          Cool and fresh, it subdues heat

          Landing gently upon my face 

          In solitude my heart hides

          Peering through veils of yesterday’s 

          Seeing you walking into a place 

          Thinking of that season long ago 

          Ideas of wants are vague and vanishing

          Visions seem like yesterday, but are not 

          Kissing a ghost of my distant past

          Touching an image that dissolves 

          This poem I pen has no answers 

          Yet I search for closings of true love

          Reaching out to a place that’s not here

          Reality is that you can’t be near

          And here we are, your image fades

          Letting go has been all I’ve had 

          Your the only truth I’ve perceived 

          Here forsaking my hopes and dreams 

          For you are all that I believed

          And as the dew gently showers my face

          The drops light then dissipate

          The drops I’ve come to appreciate 

          They visit a moment to say what they must 

          I know the lessons of the dew

          I hear the utterances of their gifts

          And in the tactile delicate sprinkles 

          I know their whispers to my heart 

          2017 @ BJ

          Fusion of Life






          Fusion of Life


          The source to travel through this edges of the universe and back

          The source that flames love and hate illuminates from stars above 

          The energy forms from fusion and ignited thoughts and whispers 

          It moves tongues, moves actions, moves poetry, moves mountains 

          Everywhere within the cosmos energy speaks in electric languages 

          Controlling out of control spiraling heated wild and colder masses 

          Inside and out, moving liquidly between light and dark chaotic matter 

          Bolts of flashing lightning and tails of fireflies, eels deep underwater 

          People conversing, sneezing, dog tails wagging, trees limbs moving 

          Wind and windmills, dams, radio waves, sonar, and nuclear fusion 

          Dreams are energy transporting through time and space living beings 

          Stones and stars, gemstones and pearls, terra cotta with mineral matter

          Just simply singing a song about The God of Creation designer of heaven 


          2017 BJ

          Imagine 

          Reading the poem that I wrote, the fabulous duo, Tulika Dugar and Alan Johnson 

          I can’t thank them enough… 
          to find them on FB, visit ‘The Poets Attic”

          https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xJp6SrAYwTw&feature=share

          Now for 

          Imagine
          All delights my heart yearns for are now mine

          Open are the portals and a clear pathway to me

          Thankful for grace that brought them home

          I open them one by one reverently 

          Years passed and my doors were shut

          Lessons learned unbolted strong locks

          The blessings that waited are divine gifts

          I open each one in thanksgiving and love 

          A child of the kingdom has much to learn 

          Perhaps not in one lifetime is Sophia revealed 

          Gently she gifts a sojourner’s pilgrimage 

          As not to drown out the wisdom bestowed 

          Each golden nugget is cherished and refreshed 

          Dusting off any cobwebs from forgetting 

          Holding wisely each monumental turn

          Each box finished is decorated, not returned 

          I can’t bestow it to you my friend 

          My lessons learned are not yours, you know

          Rest assured when traveling the paths you take 

          Have pretty boxes awaiting you at your place 

          One day we shall complete the souls road

          And compare our stories with the lessons learned 

          The medals of valor and crowns on our heads

          Won’t matter much because that’s behind 

          Where now we see when once were we blind 

          2017 BJ
          Images are compliments of A Poets Pots Haven 

          I cannot hear’ Deafness 

          These expensive gadgets that must be worn to hear

          Make morning, dreading placing them in my ears 

          Silence where no chirping birds can be heard

          No whispers of people, no uttered single word

          No meow of the kitty cat whose adjusted his mews

          The tom knows to enunciate like I’ve taught my kids 

          Speak clearly that I might read your lips, please dears

          Not to mention the eyesight where poetry is misspelled 

          But the silence goes when the earplugs enter into canals

          The noisemakers all around something buzzing confuses me

          Turning to my left and then the right to hear where that alarm be

          Driving in the car, music loud, a melody, drowns out the world

          From out of know where startles my inner peace and calm

          A siren from the EMS from out of no where frightened me

          He shoots me the finger because I didn’t hear him coming 

          The grocery store is screaming, the gadgets in my ears squeak 

          They pick up all children crying, yelling screaming oh lord, I’m deaf

          As if large brass church bells resounding without my head 

          And parties forget them, now that’s cacophony, not joyous at all

          And they speak low so that I can’t hear, well with the gadgets dear

          I hear sometimes more than one can honestly bare across the room

          From across the way their conversation is not so secretive but dismay 

          One never can tell which way the receptors pick up the words of theirs 

          Spoken privately on purpose come loudly in the gadgets brain then mine

          Pencil grinders, pencils tapping, people talking play a mind confusing game

          Coming home I take a breath. A sigh it’s at the end of another loud day

          When night arrives, what a joy, not to hear that awful mess of a growling play

          I remove those little gadget suckers and hear silence of a moments grace

          The sweetness of serendipity, the voice of the almighty speaks about love

          It is a pleasure to understand that honesty there is this other world

          And in that world words come form bubbles of delightful impressions 

          In that place where peace and comfort dwell protected from violence

          I long to sleep where angels strum vibrational tunes all so pleasant 

          And there the mind rests in silence and awe, and with God smile

          He’s glad that I hear him as he is lonely as well

          I am thankful for my world 

          This place where heaven is


          BJ 2017

          The Sounds Under Cacophony 

          Silence
          Now I can hear

          Deafness is a gift 

          The cacophony quiets

          No voices 

          No cries 

          No pleads of sighs 

          Nothingness in solitude 

          Only the bubbles within my being

          Vibrating feelings and knowing 

          In quietness I hear

          Stories and rhymes and humming 

          All encompassing the world 

          They’re there for all to listen 

          However drowned by noise, you see 

          Wishing you hear what I sense 

          Wishing that it rumbled you 

          In the world of silence 

          There are messages permeating 

          All about the atmosphere 

          Around your bedroom at night 

          Sometimes singing whispers 

          As if angels were giggling that I’ve heard 

          Because this world of magnetic energy 

          Was here all along

          BJ@2017
          Thank you Poetess Haven for the image 

          The Hiring; by The CIA By Bonnie Jennings 

          The year was 2006 and my son was graduating from Georgia State that had roughly 55,000 students, and by the way, he graduated Magna Cum Laude. He was 0.001% away from a Complete Harvard scholarship. Bragging rights… Only a mother really cares, but the story is heightened by knowing this tidbit. 
          Back to the CIA and wanting to be hired by the clandestine organization. My son, whom I’ll call code name Crocus, went to the job fair and filled out a CIA application. He heard nothing back and several months passed. His graduation was set for May 2007.
          He had a private dorm room. One day, between classes he opens his private door and found a letter addressed to: Christian Anderson. So, he took the letter down to the student mailboxes for “Christian” to pick up.
          Later, that letter was under his door again. This went on three times and he always returned it to the student mailboxes. 
          One of those afternoons Crocus receives a phone call on his personal cell. The conversation:
          “Did you get it?
          Crocus: “Get what?”
          “The letter?”
          “What letter?” Crocus was baffled for the utter whispering and the raspy voice.
          “The letter with the money?”
          “Not sure what you’re talking about.”
          They hung up and there was the letter again addressed to Christian Anderson. Crocus took it to The Dean of Students who said, “We don’t have a Christian Anderson in our school.” 55,000 students….
          “Okay.” Wondering what he should do with the letter, he opened it. In it he found $5,000.00 from a mosque in Philadelphia. He panicked a little and called mom…
          “What should I do?” He asked.
          “Take it to the pd now!” I insisted. As 9/11 had not been too long before… 
          He did and they told him “it is a federal offense to open mail”. They gave him the money and said nothing more. He called mom again. “What should I do?
          “Take it to The State Department immediately.”
          He did and they said, “Thank you very much.” And that was all. He went on his academic way. 
          In the middle of the night around 3 am or thereafter, Crocus received a phone call. 
          “This is your interview with The CIA.” 
          “Huh?” He said… They talked about whatever and the CIA said we will call you again in the middle of the night, expect your second interview (in a certain amount of days).”
          “Okay.” 
          That call came again and was followed by a rejection letter…
          “We regret to inform you… blah, blah, blah…” But, they added, “Volunteer for Americorps.”
          He did just that. 
          From there…. The saga continues…

          Mothers

          You just need a hand to stroke your head
          You only need a tender voice that tolerates your soul

          You need a hug to say, “you’re swell.”

          You need a mother who loves you and tucks you in bed 
          Yearning at the moonlight and begging for relief 

          Pleading with the stars for a reason from your grief 

          Feeling beyond what this fleshly body that captures 

          Desiring freedom from the entrapment of the gravity 
          You want to fly beyond the wildest imagination 

          And why are you held below the lowest atmosphere 

          When you are meant for flight to hither tither and yon

          Chained from rapture and left to learn, how to live and survive 
          Breathe in and out controlling your soulish wanting 

          Finding later, than sooner it comes by thankfulness 

          The doors open when forgiveness begins blooming 

          Rays of sunlight illuminate all the wanting to escape 
          Thus peaceful energy arrives when you discover that your human 

          🌳

          BJ 2017
          Imagine compliments of A Poets Haven 

          The Final Goodbye 

          Ever so delicately placing my hands on your head 

          Gently before the contact your energies have said 

          Hot and cool spots at different emerging places 

          Must now perceive your vulnerabilities and your windows 
          The healer has your best interest at heart 

          Never stealing or breaking your trusted innocence 

          Returning all the life for your benefits 

          Loving God and loving the gifted destiny 
          All is well and thankfully so sheltered

          Even the loss of life and wounded children 

          Wrapped up in a package called heavenly academia 

          You thought you would die or burned in swelters 
          And we didn’t. We lived. We wear a grand crown 

          Only warriors allowed to adorn their heads

          Remember you prayed to be strong and courageous 

          And God answered prayers and you dawn his label 
          It took all that you had to survive and you made it

          You faired well under duress and slightly felt unstable 

          And look at you now, even though, weary from trials 

          The finale comes, our lessons enter the stage

          When we take our final bows

          And leave this place 🦋
          BJ 2017
          Ever so delicately placing my hands on your head 
          Gently before the contact your energies have said 

          Hot and cool spots at different emerging places 

          Must now perceive your vulnerabilities and your windows 
          The healer has your best interest at heart 

          Never stealing or breaking your trusted innocence 

          Returning all the life for your benefits 

          Loving God and loving the gifted destiny 
          All is well and thankfully so sheltered

          Even the loss of life and wounded children 

          Wrapped up in a package called heavenly academia 

          You thought you would die or burned in swelters 
          And we didn’t. We lived. We ware a grand crown 

          Only warriors allowed to adorn their heads

          Remember you prayed to be strong and courageous 

          And God answered prayers and you dawn his label 
          It took all that you had to survive and you made it

          You faired well under duress and slightly felt unstable 

          And look at you now, even though, weary from trials 

          The finale comes, our lessons enter the stage

          When we take our final bows

          And leave this place 🦋
          BJ 2017

          Sunday Morning Reflections 

          All delights my heart yearns for are now mine

          Open are the portals and a clear pathway to me

          Thankful for grace that brought them home

          I open them one by one reverently 

          Years passed and my doors were shut

          Lessons learned unbolted strong locks

          The blessings that waited are divine gifts

          I open each one in thanksgiving and love 

          A child of the kingdom has much to learn 

          Perhaps not in one lifetime is Sophia revealed 

          Gently she gifts a sojourner’s pilgrimage 

          As not to drown out the wisdom bestowed 

          Each golden nugget is cherished and refreshed 

          Dusting off any cobwebs from forgetting 

          Holding wisely each monumental turn

          Each box finished is decorated, not returned 

          I can’t bestow it to you my friend 

          My lessons learned are not yours, you know

          Rest assured when traveling the paths you take 

          Have pretty boxes awaiting you at your place 

          One day we shall complete the souls road

          And compare our stories with the lessons told

          The medals of valor and crowns on our heads

          Won’t matter much because that’s behind 

          Where now we see where once were we blind 

          2017 BJ
          Imagine compliments of A Poets Haven

          A Message He Whistled

          There blew a hot wind upon my face

          Stoically stood by feeling, the air embrace 

          Something’s felt brewing, so thought I 

          Envisioning sights, heard a child cry

          Looking to my right and then, back left

          Noticed a sign waving soundlessly wheft 

          Stillness enveloped a moment of time 

          Another man, unaware, figured him blind

          Can’t you see? Flailing my arms around 

          He never blinked, nor cast a definitive frown 

          He whistled a somber tune, as if, unaware 

          Hello, do you hear moaning echoes, I implore?

          No, he doesn’t. He looks, as he exists the door 

          And as he moves towards the sill on the floor 

          He looks my way, and smiles, as if, to say

          You think too much, now don’t let it spoil the day 

          He tips his hat, and faces the hot sultry wind

          Stepping from the curb, he disappeared my friend 

          The sign continued moving on the street corner 

          Something was brewing that July, that was warmer 

          Than anytime known, during any recent summer 

          The news came on at five o’clock, as usual 

          Drinking warm beer from a brass crucible 

          Waited for sparks to fire from on the horizon 

          The whistled dirge was that blind man’s siren 

          Hung about “the now,” but rang out the future 

          I’ll never forget the odd musical intruder 

          Leaving a message behind when facing heat

          Step out anyway, lest you surrender to defeat 

          2017 BJ

          Part two The Prince of Hearts

          Hiding among the tall green weeds

          Studying the prey, reading biographies 

          Finding a link between you and your victim 

          Acting as if you’re psychic an angel

          Telling tales of the reasons you’re alike 

          Truly a poetic magician of keen insights 

          You’re not anything like me old slew foot 

          Not even the slightest bit of the slippery words 

          Rings true to the heart of a captivating red bird

          Who lived in a cage with other women fledglings

          Now go away and find other tall grass shielding 

          Yes, unfortunately you’ll find virginal damsels 

          Who hunger for the tender romantic verses 

          All lies and deceit meant for the trap of primed love 

          You’ll say,”no your the one that I must have.”

          The lions pride is truly alluring and another ploy 

          One more attempt to capture the vulnerable soul 

          Tasty devouring the flesh of the lamed empathy 

          That’s what you do, you can’t be helped, pathetic predators 

          2017 BoJenn LLC

          The Prince of Hearts ♥️ 

          There your hands reach out to take me pursuit 

          You who haven’t an earthly mother 

          Grabbing at my hem, please take your hand away

          Drowning your sorrows without my permission is truant

          Taking advantage of another, finding the weaknesses 

          Is devilish by thoughts and actions dear one 

          Yes, life is hardly a picnic for brethren 

          However, conmen are ignorant, geniuses 

          Preying upon victims seen at a distance 

          Magicians of deceitfulness by their actions 

          Fall not onto the traps set on a path

          They who lay and wait, for their catch

          The spider engineers a web of beauty 

          How intricate are the avenues of silk

          All seems innocent and lovely beyond words 

          Watch out! He waits until he reveals his needs 

          The victim makes a choice that destines their fate

          Shall they succumb to the spiders web of delight 

          Or exit quickly without a goodbye 

          C-ya! Then yell back confidently , “Hey! Checkmate!’ 

          2017 BoJenn LLC

          The Ascension 

          Whenever the whispering voice was akin 

          Time seemed to stop and all worries disappeared 

          It was if another world was at my feet and I was invited 

          The doors were open to adventure freely; there I awakened
          Thunderstorms moved from where I’d come 

          Shaking the distant past, it crumbled there behind me 

          No cares or memories of where I’d been pilgriming 

          Nothing mattered accepting the mountains without valleys 
          The shattered mirror of fainted familiar faces 

          Found amongst the shambles of glass and pieces 

          Shoutouts called a name that I felt an attachment 

          Yet, set mine eyes upon a rainbow of brilliant colors 
          Louder called the tiny slivers of mirrored images

          “Come back to us, you must not leave, please.” 

          Turning to address the pleas, I did earnestly thank them 

          Turning towards the lights rays, blinded momentarily 
          “But, I must go on my way, there is a rainbow of golden myrrh,

          And angelic songs vibrating from the fountains, see friends.”

          And a tug of war occurred whilst they yearned their prayers 

          The glass faces upon the ground had aromas of frankincense
          The junipers lining the path set before the ascent permeated 

          The essence of the here and now waged a brittle battle 

          A tall man who radiated the warmest smile hugged me 

          Giving me a choice, that I’d never seen, displayed majesty 
          I looked at the broken mirrored glass 

          Saw faces of people from my present past

          Heard their love and songs from a place I once belonged 

          Inviting me to return home, and then – clearly I did see that 

          The children’s eyes were wet with tears of loosing their father so dear
          Compassion dwelling in my very soul arose to their immediate attentions 

          “Dear ones do not shed another tear, your father is nearby to hold you.

          You see, I must transcend the sacred bridge separating man from all eternity 

          And I shan’t do it alone without your songs and arms of tender mercies 

          So sing me home then I shall find the way, lined by angelic children that love me 

          And prayed 

          2017 BoJenn