When I hover
Over your heavenly body,
I'm ******* the constellations
In braille.

Like a meteor at night,
The stages of life,
Come from darkness
No one could know.
There's the flash,
          (and a fire)
The Oohs and desires,
Then
Pooof,
There goes the show.

Practicing songs on my guitar
Before Sunday service strumming away
Getting it on the ole fashioned mode
For the old folks to hear,  to start their day.

Grandson Tony
Arrives with a grin
What now?
Thinking within.

Yellow pad note
Was coming near
Stuck on my forehead.
It was made clear.

Finished the song
The note was so near
Removed from said head
Said **"Bob was here"

(c) 03-15-2016
The cold has gone
What once was brown , now green.
The air is cool
Spring in the air can be seen.

Players are gathered
Practice begins
for the games
to see who wins.

The ball is pitched
Ball aloft at last.
Runner touched home
the point is cast.

They finesse the ball
as they throw and trick.
To out wit the opponent
as the endings  does tick.

They win they lose
this season thus far.
Led by great coaches
has been better than par.

When the games are done
whether lost or won.
It is all in the fun
As they have a great run.

(Just Passing Through)
09-08-2005 J.L. Stevens

This jail is not my home,
I ‘m just a passing through.
Since Jesus touched my life,
Lord, What more can I do.
Your love has rescued me,
Gives me peace in my life.
Lord, help me to walk the path,
Free of trouble and strife.
——————————————-
When freedom beckons me
As I walk out through the door.
Lord, guide me on my journey,
I’ll trust you evermore.
May I choose to do Your will,
When temptation comes my way.
Lord, I know You are with me,
As I walk with You this day.
—— (chorus)—————-
When Jesus called my name,
My life was changed that day.
I walk and talk with Him,
I chose to follow and obey.
I am trusting in the Lord,
To open wide the door.
For I don’t feel at home,
In this jail any more.

~
How all those stand!
Two windows  face to face
In front of an abstract day
How the waves come back!

Unspoken words come out
Err of Season flooding flowers
Spreading Smell
Spring of vain dreams

In the wet air
Mews in the distant horizon
Aloof mind spins in the compulsive time
Wants to buy what pays for

A Springtime
Restless dreams of bubbles
In a very blue sky
Playing within an unknown day

Moving with the mystic cradle
Imaginable house of cards
Keep covered with feathers
Playing within the Light and Shadow
~

i like angry poetry
the kind that churns
in your gut,
with razors for teeth
and gums bleeding.
i like the violent sound
of verbs clashing
on a decaying page,
like the shot of a gun
on a quiet day.
i like the poetry that stays,
that lies in waiting
like a dog in a cage,
words that creep like
voided birds into the
wired tress of my brain,
that pay their rent
like drunken travelers
and trash the place.
i like angry poetry
the kind that sears it's
screams to my lips,
which spirit echoes and
moans for eager,
****** eyes.
words that hit like *****,
giving their reader
a killer hangover.
i like angry poetry,
the kind that leave you
with a smoky exit.

April showers on the hair of fools.
The lost and the forsaken,
The blind and worthy too.
Sodden to the bone bleached
Follicles of folly.
Spring feints and fakes,
Flash of sun, lone melancholy.
Forgotten light is left to linger
Behind a promenade of clouds,
Veiled in the shroud of a harsh midwinter.