Poetry from 2003
All poems copyright Charleen Johnston
Charity won
amity begun
with this sword
we have shunned
all that is
all that was
beneath the sea
within the flood
the cry is understood
to be
a seed
to see the truth
beneath the we
the me has failed
to set free.
January 2003
******************************
For Chris from Mother
Words whispered are remembered
when time meets itself again
on the other side of life
where every smile begins
but words are useless in this moment
when feelings are so near
These thoughts are wrought with love and light
and trapped within my tears
I know you know I miss your smile
I miss the warmth of your embrace
and still I feel you with me now
watching from your resting place.
All my love, son, always, and all ways;
2-2-2003
(written for my grandmother who lost
her youngest son)
*************************************
Pine Grove Park
To my right sits, spitefully, a dingy green trash receptacle...
like an oozing pimple on the face of the great Mother...
Have human hands fastened such stench
that even the furthest recesses of the lands
have been attacked with the reality of human waste?
Amidst the majestic men and ladies
with their proud heads held high to the sky,
roots fastened in a universal knot
feeding off the same source-
sits this blemish.
Around me the green of late winters grass urges me
into silence,
but my eyes are drawn upward in respect
to the trees, marching in rows, those
gentle people, smiling and dancing
and singing harmony into day-
then I am soiled by the sight
of that gluttonous wretch,
the garbage collectors paycheck,
like a leper it remains alone.
Though even still, just another expression
of the All.
2-6-2003
************************************
The weaving of the dream
I am wrapped by
the three the
fates have woven me
into Thought
Time and
Memory formed
my flame
into faces of
Pain places of
Shame chasms
of comfort call
hungrily my name
The weaving of the
Dream the
sewing of the
seams by
the sisters of
Fate the
makers of time
the trinity
within me
urging life into
rhyme....
3-2003
*********************************
Moon shines bright in
endless night, waves crashing
splashing light,
withered hope in words
of praise, are their roads
through this maze?
are there mountains that
defy this haze?
Wounded promise, wandering
far, came and went, door ajar,
left me wishing on a star
noonday dripping from
somewhere far
away, across time and space
beneath this fleeting race
penetrate the veil, lift the
blinds, open doors to
the mind, where strangers lurk
where strangers play
where dangers make their
homes in clay, teardrops washing
claims of pain, brittle
bones that refuse to play
the game
the twisted song rewinds
the chords they bind
me to my soul
aching for the waking of
the whole
can I survive....can I thrive
can the essence stay strong
inside
amidst the drift of lonely tides?
2003
*********************************
In stasis I wait
the hanged man
wading thru wastes
that permeate the land
and your womb is ripe
to deliver the gold
Life begins
as the story is told
I watch you carry
and tarry the tabs
suspended in time
bending the rhyme
to fit your need
coloring the lines
that branch from the seed
to wrap around light
savoring wavering
mysterious night
black womb
black tomb
earth under in around between
the seen and unfound
burial mound
of dreams freed
seeping from the bleeding heart
the meeting comes
paths depart
symbiosis saturation
standing serene
I await the arrival
of a world in-between
and you
you wade thru the mortal play
like a dancer
like a goddess
intimate with life
imitating light
as it passes thru
you
to become more
than every was before
a pattern of precious potential
ready to burst thru
the Door.
To Liberty.
6-2003
****************************
Waking from the nightmares
to daystares
to wafares
and yesteryears and unraveling these
claytears
we still yearn
learn to make the burning world turn
we are stiff against the wall
and still against the horizon
the wisened Will sifting through
lifelong pills
and spills
that bend before our tired eyes
eyes that have been left on
for too long?
Too long to belong to song
this night this dream
these effervescent beams of wondering
I hold knees to chest
feeling blessed
wrestling demons and freeing se(a)men
to float into me
twisting truth to make it bleed
the seed stands tall
the needed hands stall
what makes the night so long?
What makes the might so strong
that I cannot give in
I cannot live sin
I cannot find lines
that forge their paths from mine
I am led back to the back
to the beginning
to the thinning
to the falling glare
to the lifeless stare
and the race is won
the race is one
the face has begun to contort
to freedom to bedlam
to needed hands that swim
through space
to grasp you there
to peel the snares from your back
till the egg cracks
and facade falls away
alchemy
transfiguration
ascent to the flame.
6-11-2003
************************************
Dance of Eros
I lay here, in a world of
Invisible hands, invisible hearts
That lift my soul, raise
My mind to things alive-
I am led to paths where
The energy speaks to me,
Vortex of intensity, calling
My soul to dance the dream.
Mother Earth, plastered with
These tunnels of tone-
Portals to deeper dimensions
Of home…she dances silently.
I lay still, on a vibrating
Chakra from the mothers’
Folds, learning to hold this
Deep power, learning to fold
Feelings to fire- receiving
Electricity from loves live wire.
My polar twin spins out of
Earth and into existence, calling
Me with sweet insistence-
And I mold myself to
The mothers form, finding my
Rhythm as if newly born,
And my dance is a dance
Of truth and trance, and
My lover, hypnotized, with
Opened eyes, embraces me
In the darkness of Minds
Absence… our dance a
Remembrance of lives
Lived before-
Of faces shed and blood
Bled along the timeline
Of which we were born.
Together we enact the
Great embrace, the
Great vortex raising our
Flames, creating a new
Form to claim its name…
As the eyes of spirit
Watch on in bliss- appreciating
The sanctity of this blessed kiss.
11- 2003
*******************************
Holding it In
I am holding, holding on,
Holding it in, afraid to let go
To sensations of spinning
For fear of the fall, into
The twist, into the mist
Which fades so fast, shattering
Glass worlds in which
We live, praying to deliver
Our sweet bliss, from
The internal chalice
Which nurtures and sways
With the rhythm of our
Longing for brighter
Lighter days.
11- 2003
*********************************
Hoverboard
The vehicle of my soul, the water
Of which I tread, the lightning
Thrust of forever bores its
Bones thru my head- and
I must steer this, I refuse
To fear this, I can traverse
These realms swiftly, raising
Mind to thoughts of bliss
Upon the waters weaving wave,
Among the mass enslaved-
But I am traveling lone,
water dance on images of home.
I am guiding my course, thru
This undertow, heading for
The pew that holds the foe,
Embittered belief drowning
Below- I am strapped in
Ready for the ride…
Smiling as I surf the tides
Of life- which loves the touch
Of minds that fly.
11-2003
********************************
Mercury
I behold you, Mercury-
Oh god of mind…stalking me
To survive, shadows of
Footsteps following the sun
As the chariot dips
Behind the horizon, wisened,
Lived again in imagination.
I am begging sight, born
To penetrate that deep night
Shorn from the rays
Of the ember soft sun, reflected
In darkness of all we have
Begun, all we have opened
Unto ourselves in silent dance
Taking chances to ease the sting
Of everything which belongs
To dream( to deepened
Dimensions woven to bleed)
And I hear you calling,
Crawling beneath this silver
Strand of sight, linking
Worlds within me with
The feathered wings of light
Treading, spreading sound
Which turns to tone
Molding tears to make a
Home for all that’s left
Beyond the lines, of
That distant horizon of
My mind.
11- 2003
**************************
Naked
Walking my path, naked, aware
Of all the shadows hiding
There, preceding me and reading
Me through the nights
Darkened stares…
And my vehicle is smooth, flesh
Formed in purity, no regret
At density- open to all
The scenes that bleed…
I cannot see my own nakedness,
Exposure of the essence,
And I cannot be my
Woundedness, wakened from
Irrelevance- till life
Points me out- partakes of
Me- forces open my eyes
To see…that I am
Pure, fluid light, truth
In thought and sweet delight-
But part of me is afraid
To Be, uncovered for the
World to heed.
11- 2003
******************************
Rock Steady, my independent soul
Rock steady, my independent soul-
Whiskers and whispers and flickers
Of flame, you inhabit my walls,
Hallowed in time, your presence
Unheard for so many years, and
Now, amidst the crowd, that
Gathers inside my halls of pride,
You come to me.
Among the shepherds I drink
Now- sipping lager from my
Souls cauldron, awakened to
The naming of the game-
Messes spilling near me, fearing
Me, sporadic return to steer
Me into rage, three times I
Turned the page, to find it nearly
Soaked with age…all in the
Name of a dark man hidden
Beneath the sand, frankly
Demanding an answer to his
Shame…
A calling, to travel on to confused
Land, such is the quest
That I cannot understand,
And so must stay, in feathered
Bed with sacred tears
Admitting the entry into my heart,
Of one man who plays
The part perfectly…
And in my view, the goddess
Of dew, dancing for me
In shades of youth, twisting
For me her tendrils of
Truth- flirting with me,
To make me see, the dance
Belongs to all for free…
And my pictures, painted plays,
Hidden in my hopeful ways,
Smears and clears itself
Of form, till the mother goddess
Absorbs it into her storm…
Protecting the sacred and
Singing my song, till I can open
My soul to the cosmic gong.
11- 2003
**********************************
Silent Treatment
Descending the stairway to the
Underworld, I struggle to
Grip my temper, to
Speak my embers while
Raising the sea, my
Force fleeing from tides
That weave silence into
A weapon to deceive…
And the mother of my
Active Will, meets me at
The bottom stair, looks
At me and I at her,
Then turning, I ascend
For more...more
Waiting for the depths,
That rise so silently
Within, while the mother
Speaks life in the
Shape of a grin…
Subtly welcoming my
Journey to begin.
11 2003
*******************************
Swiftness, fluid thought
Swiftness, fluid thought
Open lines of
Communication connection
Clear in imitation
Of the Final One
The anticipation that
The game is done
Flickering lights sudden
Thoughts picking thru
My memories watching
For insanities, humanities
Weeping waves of vanity
Breaking open the lines
We create
The boundary is clear the
Horizons shadow
Begets a separate smile
A nuance invisible
In the eyes of denial
The swiftness of the
Intention, the fluidity
Of the thought
The whispered words that
Praise or condemn
All our battles
Won or lost.
11 2003
*******************************
Their Cold Pews
Outside their walls we are gathered,
Rather cold in the light of
Their knowing- their binding smiles
That speak of deceit…sending
Our blood sharply flowing.
We discuss this trust, this truce,
This way to the core,
But the sensations of sin seep
Out of their doors and into our skin,
Trying to claim souls that are ours
No more, flowers unsworn to
That dead deed of which
They install the seeds of greed.
And I raise my hand, to
Claim the key, to enter their
Pews of hypocrisy- to
Be a beacon of lucidity.
And I enter the room
Where the crowds are gathered,
Shadows of demons in creased
Faces, gleaming at far away
Places that do not reflect
Light- and I know it is right
To dress their cross in hues
Of gold, chained delight to
The underworld, placing the jewel
Around the crown , to fulfill their
Creed…that the son must come down.
And the statue is silent, stoned
With gold, with hues too bold
To foresee this deed.
I stare silently at their faces
While encasing their earth with gold,
With rays of sunlight too bright
For their eyes to behold…
And the chain is linked, placed among
All the karma that has yet to be sung.
11 2003
*********************************
Destiny as Three Wee Girls
In crowds, of my own making, in
Lands of ancient origin- and
All seems to be a dream…
Plagued by fumbling destiny…
Why do the wee girls dislike me?
Trying to let go, to cleanse, to
Defecate and relocate all
Those digested themes
Of my life… and they enter again,
Unwanted, unneeded, unknown-
Into my stall where my head hangs
Low… they fight me, I fight
Back, I deny the validity
Of their attack, my tongue issuing
Warnings to stay back…off
My track- but their potion
Which I saw as poison
Pestered me, throughout my prison
Sentence here, my patience
With Self slowly eroding, as
I strangle the throat of my Muse,
My brain confused, till scene
Shifts to public bus- to
Public pain, to public movement
On the train, of thought that
Bore me open again,
The Mother of the fates, she
Sits beside me now, asking
If I’m aware of the sanctity
Of the crowd- and I reply
And deny knowing the existence
Of these three, sustaining insistence
Upon my belief, of which they
Preside- taunting my attempts
To remain outside
Their lines……………they are
Weaving me- destiny- the
Sisters of fate that assist me-
But I feel forced, and so I Try
to scribble out their Words that
try my soul too wretchedly…
feeling profanity rising thru me,
denying sanctity To my world-
And I take up the pen and write my
Beginning- proud of thinning
Out my fate…too little love beside
too much hate. And they just watch
me gently Now, as I try to understand
The why and how and accept My destiny
here and now…And all the rage I
felt at them, All the rage I repressed
Within, flew free of me and I flew too-
aware of Three Wise Girls of Truth
who shaped my life and made me see…
Their threads are woven To guide me to Be.
11 2003
**************************************
Treading Light
All these years I have followed
Footsteps hallowed songs
Reverberations and penetrations
That tell me I belong
Not to this weathered world
This wounded whisper
From the lips of the love
Of life the trips that are
Worth the strife… that
Bubbles up beneath the stream
Bequeathing dreams
To children in awe… of the
Thunder… of the call…
Of remnants and stains of
Eternity’s claims of
The souls of All- the
Souls are all that’s left
Here, treading light in
A world of fear, fastened
By thoughts hiding the
Sneer of a mistaken
Mood, building the
Bondage and loosing the flood
To cleanse the lands
And the hands that
Offer the great food
Which satiates
Our distant claims
At ownership of this
Deep game…where
The lonely ghost has
Let go the reigns…
11 2003
******************************
Whispering Words to Weave
I am whispering words to weave
The threads of all my rhythms
Alive and dead pulsation
Of Sensation boiling bloodline
Bleeding Red seeking simpler
Situations
Peace of mind is clearly
Defined and lost among
The bitter blind masked
As meek they trudge though
Weak thru the tangled times
Arms outstretched bodies wrecked
And waiting for a sign
That all is well, the Doors to hell
Are closing with the ringing of
The churchyard bells
Denying entrance to those
Who swim beyond the swell
Of a plastic Him who
Hides so well.
11 2003
BlissNinja 