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 

War (to understand peace, war must be considered)

War is a division of ideas that demand a right 

It separates the shortest distance between foresight 

It draws a line in stone hearts refusing other freedoms 

It says “it is right” for all who dwell, yet it sends utter dread 

War is a grave of lingering souls found in mausoleums

Though it is temporary, it causes thermonuclear warheads 

War is a battle for peace of mind 

It causes neurons to fire unendingly 

Crazed are they who war day by day

Unstoppable images and accusations play 

Changing health of those and their chemistry 

Battling others for no reason at all it seems 

And war is a word 

It is a feeling of men who are disturbed

Who yield their battles on an innocent world 

Finding peace is the answer often beyond comprehension 

But without earnest seeking mankind might find extinction 

But these few men can’t bridle their urge

Often they lead others into their absurd 

And war is because of a mental disorder 

Selfishness and hatred of lovely brothers 

It is unkind; it is hatred where in there’s narcissism 

Seeking itself and manifesting nihilism 

War is not pretty but is repulsive 

It is in itself, ungodly terrorism 

War is the opposite of peace 

Wherein a soulless creature who has no sleep 

Bj 2017
Picture from Pinterest 

Peace Train Poetry 

There once was a man who sang about his hammer

He hammered out the love between brothers and sisters 

All over the world.
There once was a man who rang his bell

He rang it in the morning, he rang it in the evening 

All over this world
There once was a man who had a song

He sang in the morning, he sang it in the evening 

All over the world 

It was The Hammer of Freedom 

It was The Bell of Warning

It was a song about the love between his brothers and sisters 

All over the world 

There once was a man who braided a noose

He hung in a tree

All over the world
There once was a man who held fire

The fires that torched 

All over the world 
There once was a man who had a sword

He sickled it madly

All over the world 

It was a noose of hatred 

It was the fire that burns

It was a sword that slices the hearts of fathers and daughters 

All over the world 

Where are the men with the hammers

Where are the women with bells

Where are the children who sing about the love of Jesus 

All over the world 

Peace poetry 2017 bojenn

Whoever owns this picture 

Thank you. 

Peace of God





Have you ever questioned the truth about peace?

Perhaps it is an elusive naive word that doesn’t exist.

Infants understand the realities of Elysian Fields

By three a tyke knows angry voices less quiesce


Voices speak of truce and safety for all mankind 

The words disappear from oceans of ill-willed hate

Intolerance comes from within sacred sanctuaries 

Holy words of no value lest having peace of a mind


And God is behind the loathing of The Daughters of Eve?

Who love each other in a way that I don’t perceive

Who are we that dare utter the heart that God is abhorrent

Oh lord – it is we who’ve caused you to grieve 


And the nations rumble for the true children to birth

Bringing forward humble gracefulness on this earth

The possibilities for this generation to gain insights 

Could it be that one human could change lending mirth


What about ten, twenty, five thousand souls who then see

Reflecting on the noose hung around the branch of a tree 

A person hated because the color of the skin is different 

Eyes wide open, the sins of kin, and self idiosyncrasies 


The question of peace rolls around again and again 

It returns void and useless unless understood by a man 

The way of serenity and tolerance begins with oneself 

Thus the ways of God drown by our actions 

And will then ~ forever wane

For the peace of God begins with ‘we.’

Otherwise, truly peace, will never be 


Bj 2017


Ekaterina Finds Literary Magic. 



Ekaterina sat secretly in the attic consuming 


Words and stories from ages before her upbringing 

Her grandfather said, ‘don’t go into the attic.’

Then he winked, as he knew up there, she’d find magic 



Just as her wise grandfather had pointed the way

Ekaterina saw the words dance and light shimmers display 

Turning pages, dusty browned edges, sneezing while proofing 

Oh so mesmerized, lingering for the summer, delightfully giggling 



So it was that summer, spent with gramps, became her best memory 

Changing her forever, open to stories and whimsical fairies

Grandfather gave Ekaterina an inheritance from his treasury 

Lasting a lifetime, Kat bequeathed to her grandchildren 



For’ the lineage of words and tales found in an attic

Trickled down generations of descendants making literary addicts

All because a grandfather and his enchanted enigmatic 

Took initiative, gifting his offspring with analytical acrobatics 




Happy reading 🎩BJ

Thanking my mother for giving me the gift of literature 

Image from courtesy of The Poets Haven on FB