Influencing Verbiage

Influencing Verbiage

Weaving awkward words unbelievably infiltrated by a source
Who has bent reasonable human consciousness and time
Organizing underneath hidden conversations of the elite
Dictating to mankind frightening beliefs of death and scheol
Creating fear and hatred, and intolerance by falsifying lies
Freedoms eliminated; intelligence dissipated; imaginations empty
Colliding human beings, bending core character, remains nothingness
Grievances uninhabitable; the loneliness of the angelic godhead sits
Found are words that bend ears into manifestation matrix ideologies 
Their pat verbiage we’ve acutely hypnotized and weaved like experts
Awaken to your own thoughts that were given to you so graciously
To hold them as yours and shan’t ever change a thing eternally 
Your being is your gift; do not give it away; as you’re not a whore 
Now stay where you’re at. Don’t move and eat only the finest fruit 
Stay far from repeating their verbiage that binds you eternally 
Speak you, and only you, and do it in love, for the Matrix will vaporize 
Do not judge the fallen, but turn from that universe, and offer your hands
It’s not a place for survival. No. 
The terrain is rugged and the waves are ferocious. 
Learning to swim is mandatory for survival.
However the atmosphere is compelling me to open my wings and fly from the verbiage and voices of earth. 
I must accomplish this 
One task at a time 
One goal


BoJenn @December 13, 2018

Poetry ~ About Choices, and Cancer



Equine maiden

Passing through the woods in early fall

Barefooted on equine while holding lantern

Looking for owl that was lost

Calling, echoing her voice she summoned

The fowl who warns of mishaps, before


My mother, Babe,  1925-2011 Survived cancer twice. Beat it 22 years past the textbook prognosis


Cancer Awareness

Hands perched set ready to play

The storms brew darkness its overhead

Bolts of lights flashed roaring thunder

She quietly waited anticipating the time

The maestro had not raised arms

The timing fell on absolute terms

A war of might and wills

The energy to live or surrender

The eagle soared sending her hope

lights pushed through darkness forebodings

Calmly she entered the battle field

Knowing winning is always assured

Earthly or Heavenly choices be won

The Earthly winnings her families prayers

And heaven’s gates the entrance home

The melody she plays is her song

Baroque or Brahms or Souza or Messiah

She smiles as she leaves the gates of hell



Cancer Awareness

The diary she keeps is important

Someone will read and cry one day

What she writes will touch her mother

Perhaps it will reach her brother

Keeping thoughts happy and positive

Yet she wants to cry and wilt

What she writes effects many others

But, she wants to write her fears and tears

She is frightened of what maybe

Beyond this place this seat of serenity

Legs crossed, reading for help, hoping~

Perhaps a Bible quote to get her past

The hellish droughts of loneliness and heart

Who is brave for such a young warrior

Who will smile for her this day?

The nurse, the doctor, the chaplain or priest

But what about her she’ll leave

What about the plans she made

What about this life we live

what about our desires and dreams

What about daddy and Uncle Ben

And will I see them again?

I know The Bible promises

But really, what if, what if, what if?

Really? What if this is all a dream?




The Labyrinth

Dark is the night and the walls tall

shadows cast here and here

The air is still yet chilly cold

The man with the flashlight must go

The path is uncertain

The entrance is dark

So many ways and which is best?

Ancient it seems, perhaps ghosts

The gray of the walls, sinister, no doubt’

Quiet, no sounds echoing

Sounds of nothingness all around

The man and a flashlight, but for what reason?

Turn around man, have you lost your noggin?

This is no place to be alone walking

Who are you tricking the maze of misfortunes

Go back before it’s too late




Our Walls

The silences deadly and no one in sight

Just a bare path the forge by yourself

Walls of concrete; walls of steel

Walls surrounding me wherever I stood

Looking up the walls beyond my sight

Surrounded by concrete hammering in

And nowhere to turn accepting the walls

What was i to do but look and stare

No strength to forge the slippery sides

No where to punch a hole in its side

And here I was not being free

The encasement surrounded my fears with me

Sitting there collapsing in hopelessness

The walls so large only Goliath could pierce

So there I stayed days on end

Growing hungry for food and water

I wanted more, and not these walls

Contemplating and asking how to get out

Meditated for days on end

Weary and famished my heart almost failed

Then one day a bird sang above

Blue feathers, The Bluebird of happiness came

He stayed there singing for such a time

Speaking bird talk that seems to rhyme

And the little critter sang hope to me

And in its song I started to see

I put the walls around myself

Doing the things I’d not cared about

Trapped by so many things of life

Made drastic decisions to free myself

And now when I see men encased

I sing like the bluebird and wait till their able

To hear a tune that sets them free

breaking the cement prisons that be

Singing a lesson for captives that wilt

Break the walls of slavery and get out!

Do what you want without the chains

Sing like a Lark free as the bird

The walls are always there my friend

It’s up to you to bring them down

The battle rests in your mind

Taking action to change the heavy pains

And free yourself from incarceration

By doing everything with appreciation

And dance under a full moon

Sing an aria out of tune

Make a fool of yourself sometimes

Because laughing tears ~ the walls crumble down




The Gold Door

Strutting slowly she moves with grace

Into gold hues of Autumns embrace

Prepared for the door of illumination

Destined she knows something with anticipation

With each step brown leaves fall

Her gown’s train decorated with acorns

The summer vestments she shed yore

Into the light! The slumber calls

And she will rest with winter

Until Spring awakens the sleeping beauty





Story Book Houses

The house on the corner resembles a church

The family died leaving their monument

We wondered if it was filled with ghosts

I loved that old manor when I was a kid

Stopping friends from throwing stones

Imaginations of a parallel world inside

And I a writer, that abbey beckoned me

So there in the gardens I sat feeling it

The voices from within started chatting

Listening to their woes and joys, I wrote




Standing quietly still trying to discern which way to go
The red clay road travelled was meandered with assurance
But now ~ so it seems ~ the future felt terribly vague
You see ~ the path changed because of life and death
All alone she stood on the portage trail pondering
Was she a ghost having trekked this journey before?
Or who was she in this existence called a woman’s life
There were so many questions before she set foot
However the fog rolls in behind the place of odyssey
And a decision must be made on the quest for identity

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

*Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Bonnie (Gay) Jennings, or Bojenn or Bonnie Jennings with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.