A little Flip Book of Pattern Play

A little flip book of pattern play….
Hidden agendas and timelines of pain
The master orchestrator always remains
The being that’s seeing thru the eyes in our brain
Majestic mazes of manipulated minds
Creating a Space that challenges Time
Eating images and projecting reality
Holographic breeding of dystopian fallacy
minds under siege as fearful hearts close
The challenge to balance the whys and woes
The fingers point outward in terrified blame
Initiating the lock on the grid of the game
The architect cleverly hidden inside
The engineers blueprints of cold dead light
The synthetic overlay ushered thru stages
As the prophets, poets, saints and sages
Paint the picture with poignant passion
Proclaim the Game as their Saving Mission
Whichever Timeline in the fractal you choose
There is no Final Boss Stronger than You
You will decide in each belief that you Eat
How the story goes whether loss or defeat
And when the jesters Chessboard is cleared
We’ll Play again with Tears and Years
To ReMember ones Power in the face of Pain
Is to Step into the Joy of Process again
To joyfully inhabit ones body and Place
To face The tangled web of Destinys Grace
Is to Simply reMember you Rolled the Dice
In the First Place

Charleen Johnston 1-5-2019

When Stars Fall from the Highest mind

When stars fall from the highest Mind
and sting the soul
Of the left behind
We must mourn
For our souls were sworn
To secrecy in this deep night
To imagine the fragile petals
Breathing with delight
Despite the fright that
Must come before the gentle
Opening of each and every door
We must swallow the sound
And touch the ground of our
Sorest and poorest wounds
Seeping from the weeping that
Wept in the night
The shallow light that spreads
Over our heads and leads
Us to right
Where we
Belong
To
Song
To truth which is essence
Which is gleaming and streaming
Thru the precious remembrance
Of lives left upon the brink
Of existence
Wondering if they were to breathe
Would they shudder thru the sieve
Of this world
Strained thru to be part of that
Which leaves too soon
Parts and wholes
And partial tolls and lifts
And lefts and rights and
Tests and matches
And catches and streams and
Patches of evening glow
If only we could know
The truth behind the flow
So slow
Are we,
Though
In perceiving the rationality
Behind reality
And even as the light penetrates
Our damp skin,
With our illusions of sin,
We struggle to find the easiest
Way in,
A place to begin to
Swim in the immense sea
That is me
That is you
That is everywhere embodied in truth
And therein we sing
We sign our names to the times
We’ve tried
But hence have died
Over and over again
To begin again
And perhaps be free
Of that binding grief
That we perceive as gripping
So tightly around that
Which we believe to be
Ours.

Charleen Johnston 2002

In Winters Deathly Grip

Circa 2004

In winters deathly grip, I choke to spell
Your name, in frost, upon the lonely hills,
The appendage that writes is wrong, now,
Somehow, shaking from the suns low brow,
Right at my hearts strange eye, the appendage
Has appendages which dangle, unseen,
Gangrene in the walls of my mind…
Where do the shamans go to die?
Where do the moments go and why,
Do we tear at truth till the bleeding shows,
Till the meetings end, cleave thoughts
From the gentle wind, upon which blows
The written recipe for the mend, for the
Mend of all this tattered flesh, these broken
Vessels of forgotten truths, made lost
By the echo’s of the hidden hooves
Of the horsemen trotting through
The moon. The past is played
Upon the theatres of light, wrapped
Around the core so tight, they cannot
Fail to suffocate, to impersonate
What they fail to see, what do they see,
Do they believe that they are free?
Winters face is masked and turned,
I burn, I yearn… to learn the tide,
To turn the cycles inside outside
Over the underside of all that I know,
And all that I do not know. All
I know, Is that the tunnel beckons me,
Warp speed, to the essence of the seed,
Point of light traversing the worlds, ah,
Galaxies, inside of me, a billion worlds
In one single cell, and in my cell, my
Prison shell, I retrieve once more,
The part of my essence I let slip
Thru the door…

Charleen Johnston
January 14, 2004

The Game of ‘Make a Day’

Why do we rip?
Why do we tear?
Why do we crack?
When there is nothing there?
Nothing but a glare
Let it slip
Fall thru the lip
Of the lie
The tattered scattered
Wounded sense of Why…
Ms.Intense and her
Defence is writing
Down her
W
O
R
L
D
I forgot that
Would-be humans
Should be fuming
Like factories unsatisfactory
Failings
Watching the mass
Slaughter the lass
Who saw thru the
Ailings…
She weeps aloud
Her tears her turns
Her aching burns
Learns to break away
Peel like clay
From the potters hands
Pieces of thoughts of
Creation of good and evil
All dripping down
Thru my crown
Into her
Into her
Hanging onto the sides
Of my smile
And pulling it down
Into frown
The weight of the
Hate of the town
Where once she slept
Upon the
Face of the beast
Facing east
Placing the casing
Over the peace
The fleece
Of which I strove
Down she dove
Into ground she drove
Out the demons
That found her
Hosting,
Like Semen
They swam into her,
Scanned her for
A place to hide,
To ride and wait
Till the light abades
And here it comes!
Uh oh, another day!
Another game to be played
I crack
Addict did too…
What was that I tried to do?
Words are swords
To sharpen and
Splinter
And spank
And spit, her bossman
Has had enough of it
A tough lil bit
Of skin
To sink into
To think it through
To become the show
Behind the ego
To placate and dislocate
And anticipate
The dissolution
Of that mask
We made
To play
The game of
‘make a day’
Into the same old
Give and take.
Jump up and give
A shout a shot
A short salute
To the
World we pollute
Before
You crack
And I crack
And we lay
Together
Dreaming of fleeing
Dreaming of feeling
Dreaming of peeling
The rots
Off our dealings
Till we can
Still stand
And look
Thru swollen eyes
And broken lips
To rise
Each morning,
And to shake loose
That grave grip
And let slip the noose
Of that pimp
We call the Ego…

Charleen Johnston 2002

Imagine this, They Say

Imagine….How easily, the Transfer has happened, the downloaded Dimensional Devastation as Humans are Trafficked and Territory is reMapped and trapped in saturated frequencies of ghastly Stories of Limitation….

Imagine this….they Say….coders imploding DNA and neurolinguistically enfolding a New Way To Play This Game…mama and daddy holed up in static attics of decay labeled Nursing Homes and Centers for Elderly Stay…. No hope no more of touch or warmth Just a Cold Sterile Hand to help them to the Grave….no rope in the Storm to pull them to the banks of this River of Pain… We Step Aside…. Pretend to cry about this situation…. The InsemiNation of Artificial PlayStations where Creation springs from binary Minds and Satiation brings no Hope for the Scope of this Trick of Light…..

Imagine this…. Into Being…. They Say….. Knowing the glowing power of the Mind to Create inside the Lines they’ve sketched for your Lives….. But Weight…..Of Flesh is the Gate thats kept in Blessed Stasis , just a magic oasis for the baseless claims to take Hold, the Body is the Key to the Heart and the Soul…. And we’ve left our Mothers and Fathers Dying Alone in the Cold….The Disk Drive of the New Timeline rides on the Wiped Files of the Old…….

Imagine This…. They Say… It’s all for your Safety, stay brave and face this calamity behind 4 protected Bars of Irony, 5G(o)D will project it’s Tyrany in ways that make no Visible Waves , Dialed Up soldiers and Digital Slaves , the Progeny of Pornographic Passageways onto the Mass Stage of Awakening in these Last Days of Reckoning…..

Imagine This…. They Say…. Follow your Bliss this way…electroMagnetic Policy will Insure you remain Protected from Pain… No Stain on that soft Skin, their Claims will gather you In and keep you free from Sin, Sure…. Censored by Siri , Us vs Them in a teary Mirror of Theory that’s clearly mired in Sirius Error and Fallacy thats nearing Idiocy…..

Imagine This…. They say….knowing the Codes that Upload your DNA into the Clouds, the Eyes and the Nows are Portals that Round up the Number of Slumbering Souls that Allow this blundering highBrow crowd to Shroud the Skin of Human Men and Women who Stand up loud and proud to remain on the Ground Of Being, Bleeding and Feeling and Risking the peeling layers of decay, fearlessly slaying the predators who prey on the Shame and the Blame that is created from day One in this Game, resisting the blistering of the acid rain that eats away the brain of sane trains of thought…. Who cannot be bought and sold with cryptoGold and Mined and primed by artificial Lines of demarcation….. Masquerading as Salvation as the Battle begins for this metaphoric damNation….

Imagine This…. They Say…. Resistance is an insistence on endangering your neighbor, a crime to be enforced and punished by Angry gang bangers with trigger happy fingers waiting for the neural slice and splice of the Lightsaber Device that strangles organic Sight and paves the way for the GameChanger of digital deLight. Is this the Wager, is this the Fight? Is this the Dream that Mars the Night?

Imagine This…..they say….. Keep your Eyes on the mediaL Nerve…. But I Say … You Deserve Better…. DeServe unFettered Life that still bleeds and Sings Blessings Together in hordes of human Offering. Imagine Carefully…. I Say…. Because I Mages enCode the Wisdom of the Way and our Power is The Pinnacle of Creation in this Play.

Charleen Johnston
8-8-20

Old Musings on Existence

Is ‘spirituality’ and/or ‘divinity’ and/or ‘enlightenment’ truly about transcending the body and this ‘material’ existence? In my experience, that very belief creates a rigid perception of AllThatIs…..
If we are self aware and conscious…..on a very basic psychological level….are we not far more aware and conscious on deeper levels(fractally infinite?)….and if so……does it matter what ‘someone’ labeled/labels those deeper levels of awareness….or whether a specific ‘angle of perception’ is ‘true and enlightened’?………….Is it easier to believe that we are ‘accidentally’ caught up in this material world in this material body, to learn how to escape the very material we are living……than to see that this ‘material’ is conscious and aware and is us, just as much as/more than some abstract notion of spirituality and divinity, and that if instead of trying to escape this level of energy, we embrace ourSelves down to every particle, every unit of awareness, and transform it into higher and higher frequencys of ‘existence’ and consciousness, we will find that we dont need to ‘transcend the body’ whether it be our ‘individual’ bodies, or the body of earth, or the body of our universe…etc etc etc.

Did we really focalize ourselves in this time/space continuum, this specific fractal of consciousness, just to see how fast we can leave it? I think that a basic inability to truly see and understand the true power of what we each are, on all levels, leads to the belief that one must escape this reality in order to be divine, or to be deserving of ‘god consciousness’. I think that alot of peoples viewpoints are patterned from christianity and other religions, and they dont even realize it….but whenever that fundamental ‘desire’ to leave what we are now, and/or our ‘body’ , etc, to rejoin some ‘spiritual haven of eternal light’ takes center stage, that same religious paradigm is still lurking and working under the surface…..

personally, i think most people would benefit from truly relating to and understanding the ‘darkness’ within/around one, and by coming thru that darkness and pain and negated bits of consciousness, to transform it……….into Power…not power over(even over ourselves) but power TO BE…..an infinite variation of things and dreams and streams of force and consciousness and forms and feelings and blah blah blah………….I think that we as a whole, for a long ‘time’, have had an obsession with ‘the light’………and dont even know what it means……..

just some thoughts.

as a previous poster mentioned, I also have met many people (and been one) who have denied the pain in favor of an idealized airy fairy realm of divine light.
I understand at this point in my journey, that its not about denying anything, whether ‘material’ or ‘spiritual’ (they are just different frequencies of the same energy…)but to EXPERIENCE everything, to FEEL IT, to BECOME IT, and to LOVE IT, for consciousness/awareness sake……..and when the experience is passing from focus……….to LET IT GO….without creating a rigid structure from it…..
To be totally open to everything that manifests, on any level, and to learn to travel the threads that connect it all, in ever deepening ways……to me, that is Power. Power of Self/God………..and the more energy you can ‘withstand’ and ‘transmute’……..the more of Self/God etc, that you have ‘realized’…………………

….whether ‘dark or light’…..my intention is to experience everything, and to become aware of more and more of the Energy that Is, in whatever shape it takes…..and to evolve WITH my ‘body’…individually and collectively….not AWAY from my ‘body’……….its quite easy to travel thru and/or ‘escape’ into worlds of very light/’high’ vibration while ‘leaving’ the body…………….its far more challenging to revolutionize the body and ‘travel with it’…………….making every Cell in AllBodies totally Aware………………………….

…………………….so the whole cycle can breath itself out again in an even more conscious state………………..inhale, exhale…..

……………………..the endless cohesing and coalescing of the AllThatIAm………………………..

just another angle,
{{puella …..Charleen


Re: religion and energy. Thu, November 17, 2005 – 4:29 PM}}}}}}}

{Aka BlissNinja

smile! its powerful….

Wakings that come like Storms

There are some Wakings that come like storms
Electro-swarms in magnetic forms
Dancing
On the tips of Hathor’s Horns
The Temple Priestess
ReBorn
WideEyed and Me-oh-my
How Time Flies inside the Mind
Wandering Womb
releasing
Blind sides of Ancient crimes
Buried within these patient Tombs
There are some Wakings that scream like pain
Neurolinguistic nails impaled in veins
Bleeding
And Seeding Stories in silent Shame
The Holy Harlot
Risen
OpenHearted as freedom Parts
The Seas of Self and Dwells in the Art
Of Body’s Bliss
Burning
The rotting dross from the Fixed Cross
As the Flame is taught to rekindle the Kiss
As Magdalenes Grail
Returns
Opens the Urn
Blood flooding in rivers of nerves
As the Impaled Heart
And Mind
Are Healed and Heard….
The Chironic Wound sutured
With the Salve of Spoken Words
As Pluto and Venus
Sharing the Shroud
Awake and merge….
Heiros Gamos
Blessed and Bound
In Sacred Sound
Dance
In Red Velvet
Underground
As
New Life
Stirs.

Charleen Johnston
11-25-21

The Modern Thrall

More and more Pre Script Scions 
Attempting to make your Hu-
Manity.mility.mor. Take a further step
InSide the RoboTide of NanoInsanity
…../
‘AI MetaStatize i n g. your fretting mind
Begetting blind absorption

Who Needs a Heart
After all

Step inside the Modern Thrall
Y’all

Playing Jester to the clown

Ah, the great dream of enforced Shared Resources that starts out as utopia and ends in desecration.... But I don't care how one defines the word, or what it's political association are or what idiosyncratic labels are tossed around ( as that is not what's important) , what I am interested in is the Context in which the Collectivism is Calculating Catastrophic Coercive Calamity upon the Consciousness of the Cowering Crowds , Crucifying the Common Creature who Craves the Cure and Clamors for Connection to the Conniving Hivemind which Assimilates  on Autopilot the Awakening Awareness of Absolute Abeyance as Abortive Measures are taken to Shake the Imagination of the Individual who Wakens to Worldwide Whitewashing of the Impulse to Be. Free. Needlessly Imprisoned. In a Manufactured State. Of Mediocrity. 

If one zooms AllTheWayOut to the tip of the Turtle Who Takes it All In, it is a Matter of OneBeingWakingToOnesOwnSelfDelusionsAndFearOfSoveriegnSelfAcceptanceOfPowerOfCreationByImaginalBioluminescenceWeildingTheWonderOfThePupilInTheCenterOfTheEyeWhoSeesAndDreamsTheChessboardInCyclesOfTime.AndHereinTheCrossroadOfTheSplitTimelinePresentsSelfWithOptionsForOpticalPerspectiveInvectivesWhichRoadToTakeWhenHeartIntendsToFindSelfInTime......

W e. A r e. A l l. F o o l s. W h o. I n. O u r. V i r t u e s. C a n. B e. F o u n d. I n. T h e. M o s t. U n u s u a l. S i t u a t i o n. P l a y i n g. J e s t e r. T o. T h e. C l o w n

Charleen Johnston 6-15-20