Van Gogh cut off his ear
gave it to a
*******
who flung it away in
extreme
disgust.
Van, ****** don't want
ears
they want
money.
I guess that's why you were
such a great
painter: you
didn't understand
much
else.

A star has fallen, from the sky
A poet’s life, has just flown by
I saw it plummet, watched its plume
It hit the earth, to meet its doom
A sudden blaze, a flash of light
Its aura arched, into the night
Its light then dimmed, I saw it die
A cry arose, and I know why
The words this soul, would have produced
Will now fall silent, and not be used
BOEMS BY JA 439

WHY ARE POETS LEAVING.... HP

dark of the night
giving way to morning light

prayers to pray
sit with the dead sages

open to the ALL
for you are That

small events
absorbed into the void

vast and huge
nothing lasts here

sitting in silence
sitting in solitude
sitting in stillnesss