A Gentleman Silhouette

 

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Damp leaves fallen everywhere 
Silently he who stands in prayer
Somewhere ~ pondering, “Elsewhere?
Could I have come from?” In despair,
He looks thinking, “is this a nightmare?”
Unrecognizing the odors and the auras
Alone, by the park bench now worn
Etched in wood were cursive initials
Swollen wet wood had but erased them
And there he stands, once debonaire
Only now, merely a ghost carrying an umbrella
The parallel alliance, the romantic bond
Passed into independent realms
Perhaps, time and measurements
Will lock into the same grid
But, until then, he just stands
Silently pondering the else-wheres.
Haunting the bench 
Amidst fallen wet leaves
Stands a gentleman silhouette

 

 

BJ K♣️©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

 

Image from A Poets Haven

Haven Dreaming

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Drifting weightlessly awhile dreaming lucidly seeing

Floating through halls of granite having huge columns 

Touching cold stone walls filled with ancient lights

Knew momentarily, I was transported somewhere else

I studied the writings and carved pictures on the walls

Reading a story of humans caught within an earthen warp

But, here a palatial ruin, not foreboding, and oddly grand

Felt pleasure and comfort, felt familiarly, as if, I was home

The temple held temples, spirits ~ awaiting souls

A ride through the cosmos in order to find their own

And meanwhile awaiting the catalyst who transports

Watched myself drifting in this palatial mausoleum space

Recognizing old ~ old character beings, I’ve known

In another place for certain; however, this was our womb

Until the time of birthing thus taking flight combusting into life

Here we gathered, quietly awaiting, until our mother said

And this cold monumental temple is our place

I recognized the carvings and the silent grace

And one day, will return and unite with my family

A peaceful dream experienced, finding my haven 

©2016 Bonnie jennings All Rights Reserved

Tomorrows My Birthday: To My Unborn

To My Unborn

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An empty swing

Tomorrows my birthday and sadly I don’t know yours
I often wondered what happened to my little dears
Those two who were called, “fetal tissues,” not lives
And in ignorance succumbed to the abortionist knife
Were you placed in a burial ground or burned?
Were you put in the evening trash? Or could you
Have gone to a tissue bank, sold for big bucks
Without my knowing much. And that was 
Forty years ago, and the excitement of 
Women’s rights were celebrated, but you
My darlings, how sad I’ve become reflecting
Thinking of who you were and where you are
And I named you and gave you thoughts and gifts
One a poet songwriter coming from my genes
The other a pilot like his fathers dreams
And at Christmas, I set a place for you
In my heart, you’ll always be
And one is John and the other David
Oh perhaps you were Lillie or Sarah
But, I’ll never know you in this life
Please forgive my careless insights
For I followed the news of freedom for women
But regretfully never thought for myself nor
Thought of your lives at all, until forty years
Past your deaths and my mistake…
May God bless you in heaven
And please forgive my ignorance

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Perhaps one day, until then, I’ll always wonder

*** My poem was prompted because Bill Maher said callous jokes on TV last night about fetal tissues. I haven’t stopped crying. If I could hate or curse him I would, but instead, will stand up for the unborn. My poem:

©2016 October Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved. But please share as the lives of the unborn are sold for their fetal tissues and it’s a huge monetary gain for the abortionists.

Sometimes God Whispers

Sometimes God Whispers, and sometimes He is silent. 

Silence is golden it’s been said.

When God talks to you, the body and mind come into one unit of sheer joy during the synchronization of the two separate parts of a person. Some have called this meshing of energies, “Goose bumps.” Anyway we see or experience God’s communication, it is an awe inspiring moment and during that moment life seems to stop. Life matters no more because the coming together or the meeting of our minds to God’s is beyond words, expressions or explanation. When it occurs, time dissipates and what is or remains, is a moment of pure clarity with The Mind and thoughts of Gods.

Hendrick ter Brugghen, Esau Selling His Birthright, c. 1627

So weirdly, at age 62, I dreamed, last night that I was pregnant. I felt terrified because, I knew, after experiencing child labor two times in my earlier years, I wasn’t physically able to birth this child that I was carrying. I looked down at my belly. It was huge! The skin around my umbilicus was tight and round. It was a 9 month pregnancy round. I looked up at God who said nothing, but He continued to work like a grand old surgeon does. And then, my first birth pang began. Horrified and vulnerable to His plans, I had no choice, but to surrender. God let them start. The thoughts of not only did I realize that I couldn’t physically give birth at 62, but the mental and emotional aspect for parenthood and raising another child was beyond my capabilities. The energy needed was greater than my reserves. I whispered back to God and said, “Please, no, I can’t do this.”

It, the birthing process, began anyway. God did not stop this birth. He didn’t speak to me, nor have eye contact. His internal presence and His will was understood by a fearce impression of I know that I know and there are or were no if this, and that, nor any whining persuasions using the words, but God.The horror of it all was before me and I knew what I had to endure His plan no matter what. I said, then, Knock me out! And the next thing I saw was an epidural needle. They placed it in my back after they rolled me to the side. I fell deeply asleep.

I awakened this morning at 0400, as I usually do, and remembered nothing, but that I felt happy. By the time 0600 came the memories of this dream began to creep back. I noticed my abdomen is unusual feeling. It is at this time, I realized that God whispered something to me in the night hours. Something occurred. I must wait, listen and heed as His whispers are revealed.

I suspect He has told me, that no matter how big the circumstance appears, I will go through it and even if I do not understand all things, it must happen. For our ways are not His. Trusting Him is the only way. There is no negotiation, no complaining, no pouting, no refusal at this stage of the game of life.

3 Little Promises

Hmm ~ What's that?

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; 

The green hospital walls passed by as I seemed to float down the hospital corridors. I was detached, though still alive, but emotionally removed. The pain of the fact of knowing he would soon die caused the separation of my own spirit and soul from this bad news. I simply couldn’t handle the news. It threatened my being. It meant my life would change forever. And, if I could change places with the loved one, there would be no hesitations, I would. But, that’s what loving mothers do, isn’t it?

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 

Oh, Lord what does this mean? Because in a state of flux and turmoil, who really knows what this promise is or suggests? I suppose you’re saying you will fight for us and we should have comfort in knowing this as fact. I guess. But, to help you out, I called on my deceased loved ones to help. The saints took their places with the angels.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: 
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 

Even though, life is a battle and many forces and foes play a part in this warfare we fight daily for our souls, oh. I wonder, do we all take a time out from the war, and sit down to sup with each other, friend and foe alike, then get up from that table and pick up our swords just to continue the raging disagreements for our souls? I mean, how does this work? And, why?

There must be a galactic force that has waged war on the entire planet. Our planet, is effected. Perhaps the others are as well…

But, however huge or overwhelming the situation these 3 verses sustain many, including me. The power behind the 3 promises is astounding.

Read more: http://www.lords-prayer-words.com/famous_prayers/the_lord_is_my_shepherd_psalm_23.html#ixzz3kMMqPlKt

“The Fetus”

The Fetus

“The fetus and/or discarded tissue” is the way, they refer to the child, I never knew.
A fight to protect a grown woman right’s is predominate over the right’s of you.
Big business, clear throat, the governments claims are like talons
They use the media to promote their “caring valors.”
While, in fact, my babies tissue it seems
Was used in cosmetics and that was beyond my wildest dreams
“We’re just experimenting for the good of mankind,”
Their lame excuses sicken me, I suppose, they knew, I was blind.
To the fact that my babies tissues brought monetary and scientific foresight
Is beyond this humans understanding and is societies plight
For what will we be when it comes to mankind?
Throw away babies for the sake of the dying?
Are we so greedy and grab at our demising time left
That we forfeit the right’s of the young, through theft?
There’s no more to say at this moment
Except my heart has broken each Christmas morning
Missing two faces, whose hands are gone
Into someone’s hair treatment and a bottle of pretentious Perignon
—————————————————————————————————-
***There is no picture that I found suitable so one was chosen at random.

Skulls at Choeung Ek

Don’t think you shall slip from me,

The Watchers
The Watchers

Don’t think you shall slip from me, 

My mind won’t permit

The waters try to separate us, 

From the sweat and the dust of Earth, 

But I won’t let them take you away,

Though the clock hands unwind to suggest so, 

BUT, I SHALL STOP THEM, from taking you, 

My night dreams and visions will carry us through, 

Until I enter the door of everlasting bliss ~

And perhaps leave you here, 

Half forgotten, “Oh, my dear.” 

I’ll let you go if I must

So, here’s to your peace

In me you can forever trust.

Farewell, my love, goodbye.

July 20th, 2015; We Said Farewell

Jo Jo as His Glove...
Jo Jo as His Glove…


 https://youtu.be/KWvPOJOYqGA


My Little Jo Jo
March 2009-July 20, 2015

Closing eyes shut I see green pasturesSee you run freely
There in the flowers you jump so high
Barking ~ Like laughter
To see you smile
Cherished fond memories
Moments of ~
Off and on, fleeting visions
Running close to me
Reaching out to touch you
Then disappearing from my dreams
Only left with an image
You standing on a hill
Telling me ~
I’ll see you soon
Selfishly you are missed
I hold you here
Confusion about living
Dying and the hands unwind
You whisper to tell me
If you listen you’ll hear me
Just call on me
If you need me then call me
I’m not far from you

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You bequeathed me
When the moon was full
In fall during harvest time
The sun set in the warmth of summers end
Then, we walked on the shore hand in hand
~
Thus you stole my heart
While I wasn’t watching
Under the lights of a starry sky
My body limp and my soul captured
Then, you walked next to me
Into the dark of all the darkest nights
~
Staying with me for six short years
And not a year longer you tarried
Forgetting, we cared not, all others existed
Meshing our love, entwined and bare
Then, walking upon warm moonlit sand promised
~
Assurances have no guarantees of longevity
And often are broken
Rest assured you had my heart
From the uttermost beginning of time
When The Moon’s light inspired us
And the warmth of Summers end was well behind.
~
In time we shall will meet again
When the sparkles on crystal beaches reflect
The love of humankind who meets his best friend
A dog named Jo Jo whom I bequest

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The Healers in Ecuador

I dedicate this poem to someone that I admire beyond words…

To Ingrid Naiman

Ingrid’s blog and link to her, out of this world, knowledge of healing…

http://astrologyofhealing.com/ingrid_path/ingrid_naiman_Hawaii.html

 

The intricate beauty of god's love

The Healers in Ecuador
Ecuador lush greens, and iguanas galore
The smell of the Hibiscus so sweet they implore
The hunches of folk maidens found in books
Adventures in paradise; listening to brooks
Healing the soul from whence it came
Releasing the bondages from deadly games
The essence of breath found in the jungle untamed.
The healers explored vast botany ignored
Within the person the pilgrims restored
Instead of a pharmacy excepting a bribe
Drops from lush plants heal souls that subscribe
And, hope soars as the eagles proclaim,
The Boehme folk maidens brushed them and gently lay claim
Healing for anyone without any shame
Thanking The Earth for royal bounties it shares
Requesting in return to replenish its’ ware

By Bonnie Jennings

 

K♣️

©2015 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

Shadow People

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Shadows on my walls are silent
Yet, wield stories; often violent
Because messages must be told
Within my self, my heart does hold
And the stories that were uttered
Hushed intrusive others
Surrounded by the shadowy figures
In silence, I mouthed their nameless brothers
Walking in the past held memories
The dreams of my enemies
Explaining their inner pains
Listening, though I kept their refrain
Then my pneuma knew for certain
The tear of that curtain
From whence the shadows came
Stepped out from him and is to blame
And in the darkness were several lights
Beaming hundreds, of tiny sights
Music heard from here and there
Sounds vibrating ghostly everywhere
And the birth of a tiny star did shape
Within that void
Troubled stories within shadows of souls
Well, laugh at me if you must!
The lost brothers who had no trust
Listen cowards with opened ears
Listen closely they’ll be no cheers
The words will not be enough
silently whispered and then hushed
Forever silenced, within, she wept
There the crowds morned her loss
Though misunderstood dimmed her gloss
There she stood amidst her kin
She glowing from within
She held a sign for all to read
“The shadows are no longer silent, indeed”
And her peace finally came resting
When the ghostly images retreated from molesting
Pluto Knows
Pluto Knows
* Disclaimer and to clear up anyone who might think this is about a personal rape, molestation or abduction, to clarify, this is just fictional writing and jotting down what comes to mind.
 By Bonnie Jennings ©2015 #Bojenn All Right’s Reserved

To My Furry friends

Reverence
Reverence

A fine day, indeed, shall I skip through the trees,

Into a meadow so green, and

There, shall I fall upon my knees, and give thanks,

To my Lord in prayer…

The sky will be fair and the flowers so bonny

The place will be heaven it seems

Across the way, shall I see you that day

Will we meet? God’s will, if he may…

Jo Jo, My Sweet Love…

Jo Jo

(I realize this wasn’t written very well, but I wrote it when I was so sad about my Jo, so I’m keeping it as it is. Maybe oneway, I will clean it up, but for now, it stays like this. Perhaps, i will trash it just because))

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And this is my little dog, JoJo and he is sick.

Today is Saturday 4/11/15.

After working a 12 hour night and having a 1 hour and 30 mins commute to get to him,

I returned home to a very sick doggy child.

Knowing that you had to be by yourself during this time,

Saddens me, but I’m here now.

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Those of us who love our pets know their suffering hurts tremendously.

An empty void grows in our hearts.

Tears come and they will surely go,

And, glimpses of their childhood memories cause us guttural sobbing.

Letting go is the least selfish act I can do.

I know I must help you to fly.

And I give you permission though I will miss you.

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Why do these furry friends make us so happy?

At times we ignore them and push them away.

But, they never leave our sides.

Perhaps that is why they’re named dogs.

If turned backwards spells God.

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Your whiskers are so scruffy.

You smell a little too.

But, you’re worth all the world to me.

Even though, you once chewed my shoes.

A shaggy puppy are you.

And human love, can’t be compared.

You’re the best friend, of all my friends,

cause you are always, so willing

to be there ~

Even when I’m blue.

You never make it about yourself.

No, you turn everything back to me.

And, you lick my feet when they’re stinky.

You lick my sour breath too.

And how many friends that are human,

Would dare do the same little kind acts as you?

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So, face towards the son my friend.

Where you feel the pleasant gentle breeze,

And the sons-light is eternal

And wait for me there, please.

Receive me when I come home.

It’s just the threshold that we must pass through,

It’s merely the dying and shedding of Earth’s body

That is tough and just like we knew.

~

But, on the other side ~

Wait for me, because I will come.

One day, we shall meet again.

That day, I finally arrive home.

~

And, as the song goes: It will be on a distant shore.

There, in the sweet by in by,

In heaven, we will meet once more.

Even though now, we regretfully sigh.

~

 Before taking the last breath

Lets hug and kiss if you can

But, I’ll not disturb your transition

Because you are my friend.

~

My heart holds your soul and takes it within.

And, my hands set your spirit free.

Because true love is utter kindness

And, allows The Father’s hands to take you from me.

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Jo Jo as His Glove in Elizabeth Catherine Dubois

(My second novel, but this is not about me. It’s about you, JoJo)

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THE FOG

Boondoggles and Snafu

The Fog
By Bonnie Jennings
Summer 2012

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The damp cloud came while sleeping last night
Answering no invitation it rests
Vaguely it lingers until it wants
Dissipating in time; we wait…

Questioning, why did it come?
Science answers.
But, why did it come?
In darkness; found romancers.

Loneliness stabs my heart when come
And truths hidden arise like fog
Here answers are, as I stand
Now knowing; as planned.

It comes to take like Grim Reaper
Lives unsuspecting; for this I shudder
And on a byway blanketed dew
The unsuspecting meets the cue

After it’s claimed living possessions
Dissipating, evaporating it’s gone
Sun rays shine through the dank cloud
And life continues as before

Until the veils shroud again
The circle rolls once begun
Then, the fog’s web laced
But, until then; the river has embraced.

Author Notes
The news came last night. Two dear friends, stand facing terminal illnesses.

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