I’m running from Old Man Time

Struggling hard to stay ahead

Cause if he catches up with me

I know, that I’ll be dead

BOEMS BY JA 450

You begged for my heart
So I gave it to share
But you snatched it away
And left me bare

I asked for it back
Or else I would die
But you didn’t care
You just said goodbye
BOEMS BY JA 505

We are
the creatures
of the night
no tears for us
as we soar
taking on
such glorious
         heights
up through
trees, up
through the
invisible threads
between stars
in silvery wefts
I will bring home
the nourishment
to my little ones
nestled in their
warm nesty twiggy
holes safe curled
in lairs
we are
the protectors
of the light
that starts
in darkness
and arcs
        like a flare
we ride alone
but when we give
we yield
completely in
full thrusts and
curlicues,
glow-in-the
dark patterns
as leaves
cascade and
comets fall
around
the shadows
then, in the
morning's first
sun peeking
I land and find
that peace
a kind of
proximity to
that love
I'm
  seeking



'

Oh Cyrano, dear Cyrano
Monsieur, de Bergerac
Your nose was big, yes really big
Immense, “la tabernac”

You stuck it in, a love affair
And wrote, Roxanne some prose
She fell for it, to the extent
That then, she Christian chose

All those years, you pined for her
And wrote Christian, some more
But in the end, it wasn’t him
But the letters, she’d adore

So you were left, without her love
As if, it was to be
And it’s your prose, which did you in
How stupid, could you be

Before Roxanne, realized you lied
A log, did hit your head
You sadly came, to your demise
And your love, remained unsaid

And so, the moral of your story
Now, comes sadly to its close
Remember to be careful
Where you stick, your big fat nose
BOEMS BY JA 74

She was gooey like maple syrup

     & marshmallow s'mores,

stronger than  a mountain lion

    protecting her cubs,

wore prescription rose-tinted

     sunglasses with GPS,

she'd been around long enough

   to see through most of the

         flimflam and negativity,

was agile enough to laugh at

      her own cheeky caricature,

wouldn't put up with the travesty

   'neath debauchery's cunning

still, she wondered as most do,

  what was to become of a world

so engrossed in the overthrow

    & disparaging mockery of others

she bade her time waiting to grow

    older and wiser in hopes

she'd be around long enough

      to experience a sunrise view

            in universal accordance

      before her own last sunset

                  ultimately bit the dust,  

         burning in all-inclusive ashes

i have said enough prayers
so i'm done praying
no one really hears
or cares what i'm saying

i have fought enough fears
now i'm done fighting
all the wasted years
wrongs not worth righting

i've had enough regrets
no more ***** for giving
the heart never forgets
but i must go on living

Here you are again, O Dawn,
I've become Dame Washalot reborn,
Of suds, I am a champion
of expertise in washingdom,
What did we trade off for golden rings?
Is it still that biology-is- destiny thing?
Are all men such total duds?
Do you ever feel the need to suds?
Or am I queen of the rotten mongrels? Tough!
Now,  I have to vacuum, **** it up!
Vacuum now, or wash later?
Why I am a procrastinator?
This multi-tasking womanly thing,
Are wedding rings washing bling?
Whinging is fun, but no one listens,
See this washing glow and glisten!
So, here you are again, O Dawn,
Here I am, Dame Washalot reborn!!