As spring rosebushes sway in their prime,
Some see roses, and some others see thorns.
Can't a bell sound be heard as "peal" and "chime"?
To some, "a bird sings"; to others, "it mourns."
Conscious and unconscious movements of life
seem to form all my fancies and fashions.
Do I see a stream as smooth-flowing strife?
Is existence a firework of passions?
Could comedy and tragedy be well-knit?
Would my outlook see the tale's other side?
Would my inner splits and outer bonds fit?
Could a green leaf be seen as if it were dried?
From thought’s rich soil, a thousand vistas bloom—
Does this same light outlive time's ancient tomb?
Life’s prisms reflect,
your many faces.
Rainbow coloured images
mirrors of your soul
guarding your secrets are
Kaleidoscopic treasures.
Prisons of Prisms
Bright Kaleidoscopic Light
Prisons of Schisms
Fragrant groves of lilac trees
Watch as I get on my knees
To take your hand while asking you
If you'd be mine, please say, "I do"
The garden path is long and wide
An aisle cleared out for my bride
The sun is setting in the west
Green amethyst adorns your chest
A token of my quiet love
Hold onto it my little dove
And think of me when prisms strain
From sunlight through its facet's pane
Inside this temple made of brick and clay
the many shades of your heart
are the prisms of my soul
Pinioned and shackled to your fires
we are vaulted by our own desires
two lovers breathing as one
Outside this prison of hell stands my nemesis
buried behind its boulders I am decaying
like a rotting apple de-pitted then discarded
Bitwise assaults to my soul,
I summon courage and finally break out
of this ridged corrugated pas-a-deux.
Angilar Shadows
Beams of light peeking through reflections
Cheerfully dancing over the walls and floors
Dipping to and fro in solar refractions
Every light building a tapestry if wonder
Fairylike flits of gold and silver
Gathering at certain points and then dispersing
Hiding in corners and cracks and then reappearing
Idly forming circles of synchronistic power
Just as it begins to rain and the dance ceases
Kindly replaced by shadows of raindrops instead
Like a dreary grey curtain with sound effects
Mastering the sound of light hoofbeats on the roof
Never-ending payyering on the wimdows
Out comes the sun again and the joy returns
Prisms pf multi-colored made me smile
Quitely returmimh in their silemt dance
Reeling in patterns of kaleidoscope
Shimmering images in bright welcome
The changing colors made me smile
Undeniably I will be sad when the sun goes down
Violets, golds, silvers, greens and yellows
Will be departing and resting for the night
Xtras will be arriving when the moonbeams shine
Yellow sends silver amd the commence the dance
Zigzagging across the walls again
In my teardrops and prismed raindrops,
and in rainbow hues I glimpse your face,
with the grins and smiles I long to see.
If only I could hold you again in my embrace.
My darling daughter, I wish it could be,
but the only traces of you I'll ever see
will be in each teardrop reverie.
How I yearn for stormy weather,
knowing that soon a rainbow will appear
and once more I will see you there,
running down the lane without fear,
my laughing child without a care.
In the sunlight's prismed mirror
I glimpse reflections of your curly hair.
In my teardrops and prismed raindrops
you come into view and time stands still.
Memories of you enter my mind
of my beautiful child, before you were ill.
Though you are now beyond my reach,
I will never become resigned
to the boundary that lies between us,
for our two hearts will forever be aligned.
Do you remember
when it was early,
or when too late
falling in curtsied tide..
feet too deep in depth
where wandering shallows hide
and all our pirate secrets kept.
Am I still the stranger in your night?
so much you still don't know..
making my memory smile
watching love grow
you came shinin' to me,
a simple cell phone
your only light.
Like soldiers laughing nervously
as they march off to the front
realizing life's candle, their only chance
perhaps afraid, still feel want
and wait the call to advance.
Sat watching awhile under a tall tree
next to a carved stone
learned you've done the same
let days wander on their own
never dwell too much
the reason they've flown
yet
still so glad they ever came.
I see you through a sort of prism
one softly spun in sugar and fire lit
where wavelengths in light are most bent
in hindsight, bet your maker meant
to name you Violet.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Everything you've ever wanted is on the other side of fear."
-George Addair
Rainbows laced with gray
hidden prisms glimmering,
the spark of a smile.
Who is this I have found
lying dying
on the ground
drowning in her
prose and woes
making not one
single sound?
Where does she go to
where does she hide
see how she’s swimming
against a recondite tide?
What have the Gods wrought
crumpled on this plot
corrupt with despair
her broken being
her petrified stare
shattered prisms
that I’m seeing?
Where does she go to
where to does she flee
see how she’s racing
from her heart’s plea?
Such is her duty
moonlit soliloquy
mourning chaotic losses
aching for her history
ever aimless to and fro
furiously seeking yet
tossed by an undertow.
Where does she go to
where does she rest
see how she’s hostage
of the demon’s breast?
Dare not intend to
scour this stain
from her smashed
and broken brain
sadly sit and watch
this show transcendent
from hell’s ascendant.
Where does she go to
where does she sleep
see how she’s locked
in the creature’s keep?
Who is this I have found
rotting degrading
into penury fading
choking on the
bloodied inexorable sands
of her once so
pristine inviolable lands?
‘Tis my love right there
I sob, I fret and stare.
prisms reflecting
the light
duality
Beautiful rainbow prisms fascinate and charm my gypsy soul,
They show me new light and loving ways, and make me feel whole.
They flicker and dance around me, with lovely orbs of light and love.
These fancy faerie like glitter balls are clearly designed by those above.
Our hidden dreams and wishes prance forth in their shine as is their duty.
Crystal balls, prisms, lava lamps, and other light givers are a thing of beauty.
Glamorous, exquisite, and pretty enough to catch a young one’s fancy,
I will follow my prisms to faerie land, where angels are all dance-y.
Escape the shade
Evade the thought police
Slip into the shadows
So cool
Oh so cool
Fenced in, fenced out
Got you trapped in doubt
Don't believe me?
Rip away the veil
See the scale of the whale
When you hear their voice
Know it drips with poison
Got you spinnin' with their last surprise
Honeyed words don't mean a damn thing
Your heart shines brightest
We're victims of the game
Got us convinced we're to blame
So we hide in shame
All so they can afford fame
All the same, all the same
I dropped rhyme like it's hot
I ripped my own verse in two
I married prose and slang
Slinging these poems on street corners
I might be a poeteer
My mind is a prism
Of manic masochism
So perverse my verse is like anachronism
With each line break a schism
For society like Darwinism
And they don't need armies to check us
They got FaceBook and Google to do that
Truth is we're sucked in by social media
Selling our identities for likes
With love from Russia
They'll take until there's nothing left
Only then will everything be right
And there's no opposition to corruption
Prisms and masochism
Sign me up for Gnosticism
crystal mornings ring in
knock-knock's down the hallway
sunshine thawing slowly
It’s an antique brass urn
Now the coldest day at noon
And the crystals snowflakes gather
There is a prism in my room
It's chilling, in here, I noticed, picking up your urn
Speechless, I stood, having nothing to say
In quietness, from my eye, as I began to turn
A white feather floated, lingering in a sun-ray
Dangling freely in the air, it looked, if to loom
Are you here? I sober, on this icy frozen day
In the silence, now hearing a specific tune
The one you so loved to hum and pray
That feather came to rest upon my lonely pillow
Is this a sign, I then asked, did you come to lay?
Outside blows the bare branches of a Willow
“Yes, once we were, lets be forever, if we may.“
It’s an antique brass urn
Now the coldest day at noon
And the crystals snowflakes gather
There is a prism in my room
©2015
Perhaps a visitation from a departed love one © 8 minutes ago, bonnie jennings spiritual • death
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