Like a giant Sequoia tree, well aged and outwardly still tall and firmly anchored                                        
I proudly display, my outer senescent bark, but inside, I’m pitted and cankered

Still majestic and straight, branches spread, with fingered needles reaching for the sky                            
But at each limb joint, those cracks lay hidden; not yet visible, to the naked eye

Those blisters ravage and rage, at my inner trunk; but not, so you can clearly see                                                                                    
Hidden by the sap; like those morning rheum tears, which seep out and crust on me

I reach skyward, extend my branches to the sun; my sieve tubes there unplugged                                                                                  
But below, my veins congested, and my arteries full of sap, are fully clogged  

And yet I stand, without an outward tremble; disguising well the tremors in my roots                                  
With all my strength, I will them hold; do not cede, to the pain that in them shoots                                                        

I will perceiver; not able to bend with the wind, I stand firm still; until I break                                              
Stiffen my resolve; until my fluids coagulate, and rigor mortise does me overtake                                
BOEMS BY JA 397

People who have beauty
Usually, have all the luck
While people who are smart
Always make a buck

People of importance
Invariably, have the ****
And people with persistence
Seem to have the pluck

But, people that are lazy
We usually call a schmuck
While the rest of us
Well.....no one gives a ****
WIZDUMBs BY JA 682

When life is fresh, fun and new
That is when we should do
Because in time, this lovely perk
Just becomes, a lot of work
WIZDUMBs BY 715

If only, we were young again
For those days, will ever remain
In our thoughts, and memory

We were young and fair
Most things we would dare
And not, have much of a worry

Friends were easily made
Differences, didn’t make us afraid
Always eager, to strangers query

The problems seemed lighter
The nights were much brighter
While we, basked in all our glory

We could run and sing
Do almost anything
Were more carefree and merry

Oh the things that we dared
And never got scared
We were naive, but never wary

We were taught not to tease
Always say please
And to work, never tarry

Our friends were more fun
We got much more done
But not, in much of a hurry

Disappointments were rare
Life seemed more fair
Everything was, just hunky dory

The grass was greener
The air so much cleaner
We were neither, liberal nor tory

The jokes were funnier
The days far sunnier
And the movies, not as gory

The air was fresher then
Can you remember when
We played, and were never sorry

For the things that we did
Or the goodbyes we bid
Only now, we tell the story

We saw all the beauty
Fulfilled our duty
But now, life’s become blurry

How did we all miss
It would turn out like this
Father time, make us feel his fury
BOEMS BY JA 29

Where are you going and why are you going there
What is it that’s happening, and why do you care

Why do you go, what is the purpose of your quest
Too, the mysteries of love and compassion, be blessed

Or to bear witness to a life,  that was put to death, yet forgave
While you were not there, you ran away; your life to save

By persecution and fear, your faith you spurned
yet, in the caverns of your mind, it still burned

Your servitude, put in question by your cowardice
Is rewarded only, when you realize, you are powerless

Returning there now, that you’ve been confronted
To spread the word, while being pursued and hunted

Now, why do you go, and of what do you speak
To your death Peter, for those words we all seek
BOEMS BY JA 590

( THE LOVE POET )
His verse, like a precious petal, from an exquisite flower
Slowly unfolds, leaving a luscious space, for a poesy to devour

So each breadth, between every efflorescent petals bloom
Is filled, with his alluring words, as one by one they spume

Every phrase, so intricately woven into their beauty, inlaid as a ransom
For his tendrilled script, like a florets mantling, to expressingly blossom
                                                              
Then, like a nectars infusive fragrance permeates through the air
So do his words, release bouquets of love, for all of us to share
BOEMS BY JA 587             copyright 09-18-2016
Be well Stephan

Pleasures
                 Come not
                                   From
                                            How well  
                                                            Life’s work you do
That is but life’s plight


Pleasures
                 Only come
                                    From
                                             How well  
                                                             Life works for you
That is life’s delight
WIZDUMBs BY JA 712