To Houstonians Old Harvey 

If you should go by way of the South

To the place where I was born on rivers bend

The willows sway by the ways of the wind

Then bid hello to the folks who are my kin

If the moonlight is shining on waves

If it rumbles into the night 

Know that I am riding the waves of time 

Thankful for all the memories of you 


If life should stop being a beautiful day 

If it should slumber and disintegrate 

Please know that I will live within my dreams 

And carry on truth about the way it seems 


If my children were to travel on

If they are to explore the vast unknowns

Please know that I am like the Sun’s dawn

Arising with lights and shadows from beyond 


When winter comes to bring you rest

When it slumbers into midday 

Think of the flowers blooming next spring 

The ways of you that I remember best 


And if a dandelion’s thistle drifts on a breeze 

If it lingers dancing on high drifts 

Please know that the moments cast

And whispers a message from me to you 



The News Media Sinks America 

Hatred hasn’t ever depicted beautiful eyes

Lurking within mankind prays it dies 

Seeing no radiance within that flower 

Useless energies are pearls under hogs

The swine of devils merely befogs

Don’t be deceived they’ll embrace bouquets 

Stand away and see havoc ablaze 

Think not to tame the demons 

Thank God who set you freeman 

Get away, they inhabit innocent naives 

Backs against wind away from slaves

Walk towards the sun vastly assured 

The chains won’t tackle you unsecured 

Bullets darting everywhere can’t be hung 

Run away little innocent flower children 

Naiveté of hellhounds and snorting minions 

Fast on the tracks of virginity 

Sleep soundly and quietly in safety 

Let the hellish depravity kill itself 

Now rest your head in mamas lap

Hush little baby don’t you cry


People who yell, “Bigot.” 

Exaggerating words explicitly used by the news media 

Ignites a war amongst the overpopulated civilians 

They succeed in their cause for havoc and death of minions 

Dusting dirt from their hands retreating to their kingdoms 

Goodnight world!

Job done! The smiling half of the humankind lay not waisted 

However under red dirt and clay lay neighbors and brothers 

The lady sank because of the disdainful verbiage from the country’s news media 

It takes no blame and justifies its actions without shame 

2017 @Bojenn

The Myst Finds 

There is a myst amongst the veil that surrounds we

Who forge a way on a journey surely unknown to 

The people who walk amid stones and brambles do

Stumble in darkness yet hopefully led by preambles 

Finding a way that seems right under a shadowed moon 

Sticks and thorns, stickers and moss, constantly loom

In forests of the wilderness often lonely and forlorn 

Cooing and purring, buzzing of bees, and a goat horn

Skeletons of the dead are seen meant only to alarm

Fear not, traveling barefooted for miles and unharmed 

Where is faith of your journey that looks like mayhem 

You see the myst and the eerie forest as something that 

Will harm you dear fellows and country critters who are 

Simply amazing with wonderfully inspiring moments of 

Living poetry embracing all hills and green tender valleys 

Completely tackling the mazes of trials for the inspiration 

The games will end when you reach the cottage in the myst 

The beauty of the lush earth and of the wilderness gesture 

Will appear magically when you rest from the terrifying story 

Finding it was yours all along with all of the stress and turmoil 

The way of serenity and peace came when you entered a garden 

That you made when you passed the glades of the kingdom 

All along this was yours as you waved your intuitive wand

The next time around will be easier as you now understand 

The way of the myst and of the jungles are for conquering 

Now rest, put your feet up, and immensely enjoy freedom 

Your cottage has unveiled, now welcome home 

To your Garden of Eden 

Grabbing Heaven

The insatiable thirst to be gods annihilated mankind 

Devouring its fruit will prove the destruction of 

Had you stayed like the tribe of the Quechua people

Survival is probable for they tribute the animals 

Saluting the foods whose lives are stolen 

Feeling the pain of death of the preyed kingdom 

In humbled thankfulness they ingest the rations

Taking no trophies to boost their egos on mantels

Wearing a necklace to remind of spirits eaten

But man wants to be like God desiring apples 🍎 

In no reverence displayed glutenous appetites 

Robbing each other from backs of commoners 

Stepping over landscapes, waters and oceans 

Just craving power like vampires consuming 

Mouths with teeth bleeding selfish obscenity 

The rainforest dwindling as volcanoes erupt 

Frantically living, working to appease the gods

That god within that has no relationship nor 

Love for the hungriest appetites of mankind 

Images flash as the preacher jets to the Adam

Deceived by the APPLE found on certain products 

Swayed by the worshipping crowds who gather 

Bloodthirsty vampires grabbing empty pockets 

Stuffing bellies with the foods of ancient idols

No remorse taking the purse of grandmothers 

Carnivores and gluttonous thieves are present 

Living better than average and problematic dear 

Climbing up to the skies on tops of mountains 

Struggling to eat from the tree of knowledge 

Forgetting their manners unlike Quechua people

Who honor sprits of all that have fallen 

By the bloody thirsty hands of Adams APPLE 🍎 
BJ @2017 

Hibiscus 🌺 in The Air 

The warm air softly brushes the tops of trees

Moonlight soaks the lavender colors on walls

Shadows play a game on the palleted adobe

From the sidewalk someone stands whistling

Is this a dream or just an in between odd world

Are the images fighting or erotically dancing here

The whistling is the music of Ravel’s Bolero

The castanets click amorously as the men tap

I am amidst the passacaglia of Latin lovers

Hibiscus hang succulently from the window

The light of the moon touches the flowers

Odors from the Night Blooming Jasmine

Permeates the melodies and the sambas

Cats mewl keeping their lusts venomous

They’re part of the scene upon the walls

Displaying cat emotions and feline fickleness

Using the pillow coving my head dissonance

Go away that I should sleep in utter quietness

This is simply the imagination of a poetic soul

One who works by day selling the world

Silently by night becomes the explorer

Foreign exchange, queer happenstance

Hidden messages waiting within the bottles

So alluring, it seduces a heart of gypsies

By the fireside drinking red wine uncontrolled

The music fades as the embers die solemnly

The taps of men silence within the lights

The hibiscus odor no longer lingers on air

The cats sound no more as the moon hides

Shadows dissipate within the lights of sun rays

The alarm sounds so loudly my ears ache

Awake for morning has arrived at daybreak

The gypsies gone and their rhythmic castanets

Adjusting my tie for the eight o clock bell

No rest for the weary here

Living in hell O operator give me number 9

If he doesn’t answer then give me back my dime


Traveling By Night


Midnight and time moves even while sleeping 

Breathing is controlled by the mind and heart 

No worries ~ simply rest within easy rhythms 

In the twilight of shadows unfolds odd dreams 

Faces seem familiar and places are sublime 

The columns of The Parthenon stand not cold

Moving above the earth like a ghostly spirit 

This world appears friendly and is as a home 

This place between heaven and somewhere unknown

Gliding over tombstones awakening slumber

Wake up my friends Brigadoon is now open

The night is older and our time thus shorter 

The alarm will sound and moments departing 

Awaken please, oh my dearly former ~ tribe of brothers

Mother can you hear me and you my father dear?

Look I’m soaring around the temples of my souls tiers

Calling you to attention but you sleep instead 

We shall talk and laugh at this moment of truth 

Subjects of interest, please tell me all truth 

We’ll settle all arguments that set us apart 

Oh hear me, you who hibernate within the dark

I don’t travel nightly to the relics of your house 

Places call me and I surrender to their quest

Living parallel to a place where the sleeping roam

The dead aren’t citizens of the globe of the living 

No they’re awaiting eternal rest or a place of isolation 

Leave them convalescing before facing judgment 

And I shall return to the alarm sounding sunrise 

Respectful of they who who fear their actions 

Relying on tales whispered into consciousness 

Hoping the creator is truly the most merciful 

He who keeps no records of past transgressions 

“Be mindful.” the gatekeeper yells, as I fly 

One day you’ll be here be mindful of that!

Saluting the prophet with wild green eyes 

“Go home to your bed, leave the dead neigh!”

To the bed moments before the sun cast rays

Tossing and turning this way and that 

The resounding cacophony sat me upright 

Rubbing my face and yawning from drowsiness 

My feet hit the ground finding slippers hiding 

And dressed for a day of working with terminals 

Forgetting the columns of The Parthenon 

The coffins in darkness and fog of the moments 

Fifteen hours will pass before my ship launches 

Unto the kingdom of the traveling soldiers 

Passing the stratosphere of living existence

Into a place for pilgrims of astral projections

Goodnight my children and may safe journeys be yours

Into a spaceship called sleep visiting other worlds 
BJ 2017