Between Whisper and Scream

In the in Between

Before the dream

Overtook me…

That effervescent beam

that clings

Like dew to my

Mindscreen

After the dark night has risen

Like yeast inside of me

Shone Daimonic face

The trickster dressed in lace

And leather

And choking on feathers

From my Flock

Mocked me

Pointed to the clock

And shook me from complacency

The Red Tale of Fires embrace

Rose like dawn

And threatened my Face

With scabs of disGrace

from legions

Spawn

Fighting for ascendancy

As I silenced the grim

Grip

Of their insistent

Whims

And kept right on

The same old track

Of dependency

Ignoring the tortured truth

That swarmed my limbs

And swore to remain imprisoned

Within…

Spoken to me in a cross

Between

Whisper and Scream

As I lay

Trapped in stasis

Peering at faces

Whose skin

peeled like panic

From the ancient Dream…

…Worry of whether

I’m worthy of the flame

Grateful for the shocks

And the shards and the pain

That lodge within

The neural Stains

And strains of my heaving Heart…

“Stop Showing off…

And Make Real Art”

….and in a flash

The great Rash of

Impulsive Inaction

Flickered in the Smile

Of the Vixen who agreed

To stop feeding

On my flesh

If I vowed

To rise from the bowels

Of this Blessed Test

Of Will

And say Goodbye

To Patterns that Shatter

The Sanctity of Time

Trapped within loops

Of Mind…

As I Bleed within

Mother Matter in

Fractal Flowers that Unfold

In Sacred Sines.

Charleen Johnston

10-2-21

We Think In Between The Joints

“We think in between the joints”
Entire universes spread out like Time
As Space hides Selves lost in sockets
And held in rhyme, woven…wrenched
From the mind and hidden in pockets
Within the spine, the hips,
The Shouldered relationships
That bear the burden of Other
Ways, to know here, to feel, hear
And peel clear of stagnant flesh…
Just one. More.Deep. Breath.
Laying prone in a sea of flesh
Held together by pure force of Will
In a dance with past Feels and Reels
That loop and tangle and twist
As The feedback strangles the bliss
Of Letting Go into the abyss
Of the Space between
The floor
and Me
As Self is reCentered in between
The open Doors and open Seams
Of I and Thou
And dancing dreams.
I release…. The tight grip
That has ripped me apart
For 41 years
Held together by pure force of Will
In a shifting atmosphere
Of dizzy atoms here
Playing tricks of light
In a mind held so tight
The body rebels…
Swelling with the trapped rage
In masked pages of the Word
That Stages the painful dichotomy…
Seams so loose
It all spills out of me
Chaotically
I seem to lose autonomy
Christened by the insistence
Of my Fascial Lobotomy incised
By internal programs
That overRide
Who I Am
And climb thru the cavernous
Space
Between the Fleshy Creed
That plays at Being Me….
It Dawns so suddenly
The force of Feeling bleeds
As pounding Heart Seeds frequencies
Illuminating
The maze that traps me….
Dramatic release….
A lifetimes unEase freed
As the iron grip can no longer hold
I leak right out of the mould
And gather
In a puddle of matter
And Mater and Mother
And matrix
Of Self & Other
And Open to the Fugue
As the Swoon subsides….
And There
I Am
Peering In
From Outside the Lines
Where Dark matter
Claims the Mind
And Patterns
The Play
Of Somas Shame
As it falls into the rhythm
Of psyches Game.

Charleen Johnston
5-14-22

Inspired by Sophie’s Strands fb post below

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10228554482073707&set=a.1499832382446&type=3

A visceral reflection of how over muscled and controlled my Soma has been
as a lifetime of the threat of puddling right out of my skin
Has overcompensated
To keep the chaos out( or in?)
Hippos are meant to be soft
And buoyant
As they navigate the waters
Of the emotional realm
But mine has crystallized
And been trained
By the Martian masculine
To grip so tight
There is no room
For darkness
In the light
Of Being.
This I Know
And See
As I Do
Now
What is beginning
To come
Naturally.
Let Go
Into the Flow
Of the See of Me
Sew Seamingly slow
And free.