Grasping God. To know him is to love him…
Grasping God. To know him is to love him…
Tearful and demanding that God send his angels
“To please minister to my sorrow”
However, no shape of a human angels came
Only 3 dogs with wagging tails so joyfully wanting to serve me.
Suddenly I laughed knowing that angels come unaware
And, God, knows my heart beyond comprehension.
Thus He sends his commissioned pups to love.
And, It causes me to cry, it causes me to know, it causes me to see that God truly does care.
So when you see a ferrel cat or dog wondering a lonely lonesome highway,
Then you must pick it up with love and knowing that ~
God sends the best human lovers He has.
They are simply cats and dogs that mother ~ God’s Lost people.
And, they travel frightening roads to find us.
The roads they follow are treacherously hot or cold.
But, nothing stops their mission.
They are sent by God to do a work.
We humans are their intentions and they bare many burdens.
They will not give up even under the cruelest reasons…
They are angels that we are unaware.
Performing our magic when it seems dull and impossible is a concentration of our wills.
In quiet “boring” times,
When there seems to be nothing, but nothing, to do
It is then that we can create a masterpiece.
We illuminate the darkness that seems to surround us.
We make it our heaven, and if we lack vision we perish.
So, rise your wand,
Make your life, that which you’ve dreamed of..
Cause it to happen.
You can do it.
Believe, because you must.
Make it as you envisioned and thought of yourself.
Before the world of voices told you, “no, you’re nothing.”
Don’t believe a word of it, the world’s lies, because it’s not truth.
You are exactly what you imagine.
Nothing greater or less.
It is how you think of yourself.
Your beliefs will lead you.
So, change your beliefs for change.
Cause your world if you so want.
You have the power
God gave it to you.
It is in the tiny mustard seed of faith that will move mountains.
Time
tick-tock; tic- tock; tick, tick, tick.
Time.
WHY?
Nursing homes, memory units, family dispersed.
They ran when my hair turned silver and I smelled of urine.
Oh, this is The United States ~ who else in the world would leave?
What, a silly question, after all, it was us the free-love generation who started this nonsense.
Really, in truth, we were the “me” generation. Misnamed. The irony makes me laugh.
We called our kids this. They were the product of the all consuming need to be free.
Mom and Dad split, time, after time, after time, all for the image of freedom.
“They’ll get over it.”
Yes, they have and assuredly ~
One plus one equals two. And, two times two equals four.
Physical laws don’t change without the atom bomb.
And, now is waiting.
Waiting, on my clock.
Quietly it tick-tocks; tick-tocks, tick, tick, ticks …
God, how many more breaths must I take?
©2014 Bojenn All Rights Reserved
While dreaming in the midst of a stormy night, booming lights from the electrical bolts slashed dashing across the walls of my bedroom. I hid my eyes from the frightening waring images made from the shadows.
Miserably, I disdained my life and I, thankfully, welcomed sleep. I hated everything that God gave me and the thunderstorm came to punish me. I was certain that His wrath deliberately chastised me. Surely the grim reaper stood close to my bed. I felt his ominousness cold breath. The rumbling thunder and magnetic energy surrounding my lying body, ushered me into a sleeping journey back into time..
When sound asleep, suddenly, I heard in the distance ~ “the sounds of war?” Bombs and the shaking of the tin shelter where I hid crammed with others, whom I didn’t know. Oddly, they knew me, and there we hid tightly pressed together.
“I must have travelled back in time?” I thought.
They spoke in a foreign language. It was Polish. Everything was gray there, including their battle worn faces. The wrinkles bore sad lines of desperation. Their bodies were almost skeletons. And, I wanted to run, but when I started to leap, they held me.
Then, screaming, “no! Let go of me! Please!” I escaped only to see armed men coming my way! I caught my breath. There, in the dark of the night I saw a sign which hung swaying in the freezing rain and blustering wind. The metal sign creaked “Warszawa, 1943.” I knew where I was… The horrors of death were everywhere. Bleakness and freezing weather, trapped innocent victims.
The enemy soldiers started to grab me, but ~
I prayed that God takes me somewhere else other than WWII, Poland.
So, He granted my wish.
Rolling in the dirt, in fear of The Nazi’s, I was thence transported somewhere else in times past. Here the air was humid and the smell of death and blood permeated everywhere. Flies, fleas and moans came from dying men were everywhere.
I heard, “help me. Please, won’t you help?”
A man lay there in the brush. He was in gray and I was in blue. By his side a rebel flag was standing next to his bloody broken body.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“You don’t know?” He puzzled at my daze. “Mississippi.” He looked at me as if I was mad and he had disdain on his face, even though he was dying.
So, I reached out to lift him away from the fighting as all good men do. It was then, that I noticed my skin was dark. I was a large Negro man. I, aghast, thought, I’m in trouble now. Here I am, “a colored man,” centered on a battlefield in The Civil War. They will kill me. I will die. Now, more panicked than ever, I surrendered to my fear. How then, my old life seemed kind and benign in comparison to Warsaw and Mississippi.
I petitioned God’s help. “Grant me my own life, once again.” Sobbing from the deepest part of my being, concluded that he did not grant my request.
Then He transported me, again. I found myself sitting on a piano bar singing loudly. There was a sign hanging across the wall of the smoke filled bar. It swayed back and forth as the room seemed to move erratically. The sign said, “Welcome Molly Brown.” The crowd applauded and I smiled, warningly. The spotlights were in my eyes. A second passed. I noticed the calendar displayed on the wall said, “4.15.1912.” Gasping. “I’m on the Titanic.The night it sinks.” I whispered with dread. I knew, soon these lives and Molly Browns would be recorded in history. They were unaware and I was petrified. The iceberg floats before us. It will sink this ship and most of the applauders will soon die. Mortified of knowing the fate, I froze.
If I could change the course of history in Warsaw, the battlefield in The South, and on The Titanic, I would. If there wasn’t any goodness within me, then my travels changed me. All three places taught lessons: thankfulness, empathy and compassion. “God, I know, I understand. I’ve been selfish and unappreciative of the mundane circumstances in my “pathetic” life. I’ve been blessed all along and so ignorant.
With the final confession, I awakened in my own skin. It was my room and correct time…
My worldly travels were enlightening and my lesson? i will not murmur, grumble nor whine ever again.
It all flowed together so smoothly. Like a perfect image, of a handsome desirable home, with a white picket fence surrounding this quaint cottage. Framed with beautiful flowers everywhere ~ so are many stories similar to this one.
This story, is of smoothing things over.
This story speaks of little white lies. Often spoken in humorous tones of voice, one hastily jests ~
Oh, well ~ we all do it. No, big deal.
Then, we mock phrases that aren’t truths either.Hell, it never hurts anyone.
Or, does it?
Yet, the lies presented in a palette of vagueness are simply, tall tales. Non-truths created to cover the picket fence in more, and more white wash.
Layer after layer, white after white, one stroke, each time so delicately brushed, that was, in the beginning. At first, it was whispered. Spoken in deliberate calculated lies as his smile expressed his own pleasure. She didn’t notice his cold blue eyes, his narrow lips that slightly turned up in the corners. if she had seen him, as he truly is, then, she would see his pride. The story of hunting her soul, and the fact, he lived in the home with the blooming flowers, until the colors of their bouquets lost their beauty.
He chased away the bees in his mad jealousy. When the bees disappeared, then he too, only dreamed of the next garden’s odors. The next place to lay his head on a down pillow, and only the best, for it’s season of glory, will also wilt from the rays of the hot summer sun. For fall will come, and coldness of winter is on the horizon.
So, innocent was the white fence in her vain glory she portrayed, to all. The observers watched the paint covering her. She was unaware of truth, throughout the years. They knew her innocent naiveté would one day turn, the unsuspecting, from white into dark grey.
Because ~ after a while, after a time the painter, the creator of the tall tale, wearies. The sociopath is no longer amused by their adrenalin bursts. Their white lies aroused them like a drug, which no longer excites them. So, they become sloppy with their painting of fences. And, soon, their palette, once beautiful, appears, not so pristine, after all.
The passer-by’s notice the cracks left without white-wash and the inconsistency of the painter’s strokes. But, for some reason, they pass by the fence, they keep to their own business, and let the white picket fence, fade to a grey frail border that surrounded a charming cottage. It once bloomed an array of colors with aromatic flowers. Perhaps, they pass, by because their white picket fence rotted, as well, and their flowers had, too, disappeared. The fragrance of the blooms and the honey bees moved to pollinate a new-found quest, a new adventure.
And so, she asks, to whom does the vague ambiguities hurt? The answer is found when examining the fences. But, there hidden in the weeds, see, growing over the top of sour grass seen behind the grey fence is a strong red rose.
Painting by Bojenn
Author Notes Just another very real dream. Please, understand, this dream was symbolic and humans are not “demons.” This is not to be read literally. It is written from the animal kingdom. There are parts of my dream that become relevant and clearer as I write and meditate on the symbolic meaning. Thank you for reading. Thank you Deloralock at fanart review for your picture which shows the precious animals in the forest. |
The Gripes That Stole Christmas
By Bojenn Bonnie Jennings *
A work in progress
Christmas 2012
The Gripes That Stole Christmas
Shouted all through our land
All people were silent
Including the Caroling band
The stockings were hung
By chimneys with care
In hopes their gripes would silently scare
Demanding their wicked Christmas dares
And I in rebellion
With eggnog in tub
Settled not in ~ no not very snug
Growling at their fake “HAPPY HOLIDAY” hugs
While shopping at the mall mulling and frumping
And watching others snarling and melancholy
Noticed the void of godly spirit filled voices
Singing of the historical birth of a savior.
Being born in a stable so lowly and humble
Offering us hope when misguided
Then, suddenly from the crowd I heard…
…what? Someone singing?
Yes!… ?.. No… oh…(only to sigh)
Only teenagers rapping …
Then, disturbed at this plight,
That tv media stole man’s beacon light.
All for the sake of our “human rights.”
Then a child from out of nowhere came
Tugged on my garment smiling my name
“Though our hearts break with too many changes
He hasn’t gone. No, he’s simply preparing.”
Then she called called out his names;
Boldly declaring:
Now Yeshua
Now Jehovah
Now Jesus
Now God
Onward believers
To love this world!
Now call them
And tell them about my love
And promise I’m soon coming
And I will not deny
Now, don’t you be shy
Then the little child hugged me
And disappeared from my sight
But the twinkle she left beaming from her eyes
And a joy over took me
As then I smiled
And shouted MERRY CHRISTMAS!
And saluted good night.
BoJenn 2012
The gripes that stole Christmas,
Shouted all through our land
All people were silent
Including the Caroling band
The stockings were hung
By chimneys with care
In hopes of the gripes would, SHUT UP!
With their wicked Christmas dares
And I in rebellion
With eggnog in tub
Settled not in ~ no not very snug
Growling at their fake “HAPPY HOLIDAY” hugs
While shopping at the mall mulling and frumping
And watching others snarling and melancholy
Noticed the void of godly spirit filled voices
Singing of the historical birth of a savior.
Being born in a stable so lowly and humble
Offering us hope when misguided
Then, suddenly from the crowd I heard…
…what? Someone singing?
Yes!… ?.. No… oh…(only to sigh)
Only teenagers rapping …
Then, disturbed at this plight,
That tv media stole man’s beacon light.
All for the sake of “human rights.”
Then a child from out of nowhere came
Tugged on my garment smiling my name
“Though our hearts break with too many changes
He hasn’t gone. No, he’s simply preparing.”
Then she called called out his names;
Boldly declaring:
Now Yeshua
Now Jehova
Now Jesus
Now God
Onward believers
To love this world!
Now call them
And tell them about my love
And promise I’m soon coming
And I will not deny
For expect I will see you
Now, don’t you be shy
Then the little child hugged me
And disappeared from my sight
But the twinkle she left beaming from her eyes
And a joy over took me
As then I smiled
And shouted MERRY CHRISTMAS!
And saluted good night.
BoJenn 2012
The gripes that stole Christmas,
Shouted all through our land
All people were silent
Including the Caroling band
The stockings were hung
By chimneys with care
In hopes of the gripes would, SHUT UP!
With their wicked Christmas dares
And I in rebellion
With eggnog in tub
Settled not in ~ no not very snug
Growling at their fake “HAPPY HOLIDAY” hugs
While shopping at the mall mulling and frumping
And watching others snarling and melancholy
Noticed the void of godly spirit filled voices
Singing of the historical birth of a savior.
Being born in a stable so lowly and humble
Offering us hope when misguided
Then, suddenly from the crowd I heard…
…what? Someone singing?
Yes!… ?.. No… oh…(only to sigh)
Only teenagers rapping …
Then, disturbed at this plight,
That tv media stole man’s beacon light.
All for the sake of “human rights.”
Then a child from out of nowhere came
Tugged on my garment smiling my name
“Though our hearts break with too many changes
He hasn’t gone. No, he’s simply preparing.”
Then she called called out his names;
Boldly declaring:
Now Yeshua
Now Jehova
Now Jesus
Now God
Onward believers
To love this world!
Now call them
And tell them about my love
And promise I’m soon coming
And I will not deny
For expect I will see you
Now, don’t you be shy
Then the little child hugged me
And disappeared from my sight
But the twinkle she left beaming from her eyes
And a joy over took me
As then I smiled
And shouted MERRY CHRISTMAS!
And saluted good night.
BoJenn 2012
Original version
The gripes that stole Christmas
Shouted all through our land
All people were silent
Including the band
The stockings were hung
By chimneys with care
In hopes of the gripes would, SHUT UP!
With their wicked Christmas dares
And I in rebellion
With eggnog in the tub
Settled not in snug
For their fake “HAPPY HOLIDAY” hugs
While shopping at the mall mulling and frumping
And watching others seeming melancholy
Noticed the void of spirit filled voices
Singing of the historical birth of our savior.
Being born in a stable so lowly and humble
Offering us hope that’s often misguided
Then, suddenly from the crowd I heard…
Someone singing?
Yes!… ?.. No… ?
Oh…(sigh)
Only teenagers rapping …
Then, feeling I; disturbed
Then a child from out of nowhere came
Tugged on my garment smiling my name
“Though our hearts break with too many changes
He hasn’t gone. No, he’s simply preparing.”
Then she called called out his names;
Boldly declaring:
Now Yeshua
Now Jehova
Now Jesus
Now God
Onward believers
To the top of the world!
Now call them
And tell them about my love
And promise I’m soon coming
And don’t deny
For soon I will see you
Now, don’t you cry
Then the little child hugged me
And disappeared from my sight
But the twinkle she left beaming from her eyes
And a joy over took me
As then I smiled
And shouted MERRY CHRISTMAS!
And saluted good night.
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@copyright 2013 Bonnie Jennings
There is grey found between black and white.
A simple smile between laughter and frowns.
Valley’s separate mountains and and ocean homes.
Peace is midst hate and love.
Resolution and forgiveness create the magic found in sordid facts.
Mankind handed the the plan
To collide the facts
To orchestrate the energies
To direct major empires
Handing one olive branch despite stubborn pride
Yet there still is black and white
Grey is middle ground
Absolute facts in algebra
And God in the breath of life
A breath defies the carbon atom
Who can explain this equation
But man handed the plans
Commanded to
use God’s magic
Madonna, you stand there. Lost and forlorn.
Frightened again. The Forest of Fears gnawing
eating, biting your soul.
It tries sucking life from you.
Remember the laws
It consumes only the willing.
Foreboding and Trembling it’s children.
The playground bullies
But, you Madonna hold magic
With your spoken words
Manifesting freedoms from Fear
Calling on the God of the World.
Reminding God above
That no weapon formed against you will prosper
No earthly king will win.
Triumphant over bad company you will be
So simple is faith for war
Forgettable are weapons of warfare
But, Fear gained access to our mind
Grabbing strong the reigns again
Taking charge as planned
Making your horses follow your intended path
Thanking the Lord above
Place guilt and accusations behind
Wearing the crown of forgiveness instead
For HE has the way for all men
We pocess belief for the day.
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