The Grid is Locked





The Grid is Locked
My
Oh. My

The Lid unpopped
From my Jarred
I

Trapped within the Maze
Of Mind

A dazed
min
O
Taur.

Spins the Sines

A Blind beast that finds
It’s feast

Lost inside the neural Twine

I tripped the Wire and Watched
Him twitch
Flipped the switch and

Changed. The. Dream

Ripped the Stitch Right from the Seams

Left Alone
With a Million Shattered Mirrors of
Me

Charleen Johnston 11-10-20

Hold YourSelves Accountable

Hold yourSelves accountable my Friends
Your etherNets are holding you In
Breath no longer on You can depend
It’s trapped gasses are masking the Lens
Coming soon to a theatre near You, Truth
Soon the Noose is too tight to cut loose
The fight in your blood, the flight of your tears
Next in line please, 6 feet under Dirty Fears
Installment of Barbed Wire inside your Mind
The mission statement of Ties that Bind
Panic to paranoia to participation in Rape
Room to Escape from the Lies that drape
The soft cloak of terror over your soul
Key to the kingdom hiding in the Whole
To Speak freely and seek freedom Within
Hell as the Spells build Shells around Men
Locked inside electroGenetic technoSkies
Inside Minds blinded by rising tides in disguise
Strangled by dangling delusions of death
Cells compelled to sell their breath
In desperation, inDigNations Fate waiting
Tangled truths twisted by hate in baited
Minds of 01010001111 binary blind spots
The preProgrammed Plot thickens like snot
Flocks mocked in rotting sickness and pain
And clotting like broken neural codes of Brain
Herd huddled in hushed whispers and hiding
In virtual Veins that Bleed, fallow Seeds riding
Shock Waves from crest to shore as Tests
And Blessed Pores Open for more Infested
Horror to drain the Soverign Selves of Man
Within the Collective Decay as time Spans
The Periphery, demands that history repeat
Blocked Pathways as Power plots defeat
Nerves frazzled and bedazzled by Light
Of Illusion refracted from mirrored Delusions
Terror stricken and errors thickened by fears
They fomented, freedom they fled and tears
Chose to shed for blood they bled in vain
This is a test a push from the nest of thegame
There is no Power Greater than your Will
Are you Ready to steady the turning Wheel
No blame no shame no remnants or stains or
Victims are claimed in the Waking Story
The Path is Open the Road is Clear
Mind is aMazed when there is no Fear
Masks fall from Faces who Make the Choice
Silent Suffering transforms into True Voice
Symptoms subside and blind eyes can See
The Immortality of the I~s and the We~s
Puzzled Perceptions Pattern the Way
Pieces return to Wholes in the Play
Are You ready to Birth your own Being
In Brilliant Renewal, Fueling and Freeing
The Seed of your Seeing into the Spirit
Open to Infinity, open to Awe, We Are It
But we’ve forgotten, begotten blind Eyes
The Time has Come to ReMember and Fly
Poisoned hearts must remove the Shame
Bodies and Blood must purify the Pain
No ties can bind the One who Knows, Wakes
Longer cycles turning within Cosmic Makers
Coping with Eternity and Playing with Sight
With Wild and Wonderful Dancing Delight
Chaos of Creation Unfolds and Takes Stock
Of flowering Fields in ElectroMagnetic Flocks
Freedom is The Foundation for All to Play
And Play is the Passion to Pattern the Way
Freedom is the only true Path of Love
Of compassion that lasts and rises above
Self inDwelling in Shells of dense Desire
Too fractured in manufactured woven wires
Trapped by hired hands that block the bliss
Within a mapped-out scripted judas kiss
Their intent simply to help One ReMember
Prizm Sentence of Life as Burning Embers…
Cells as Selves Simply Dwelling in Deep
See? It’s All a Dream of I-s and We~s

1st word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme

Charleen Johnston
1-30-21

The Eternal Girl

Old Self portrait




(The poetic Bio from my old webpage....i was around 24 i believe.)

I am the eternal girl, starchild and roguesmile and weaver of dreams both brave and wild...
Born in a bustling blue dream, to a couple wit h lightflakes and dreamcakes in their innerspace!
Grew up in the mountains of Virginia, free and fair, tangled hair, feet bare, there somewhere...
Enjoyed school because of access to books, hated the authorities and teachers and crooks who feasted on the childrens minds, wasted all their precious time on frivolous things...though there were a few who seemed to know, who seemed to see, who seemed to feel the breathing dream...and in their lives I saw some light, and inspired with life I prepared for flight, escaped the gaping hole of home to soar the skies and freely roam. University, ah, big disease of society...wasted time and wasted braincells, tasted life but also hell, flew so high but nearly fell...nearly drawn in to the spinning flash of tangled thoughts and mangled mass of human drivel of human waste of human tears in sad dark place. Then free again, light peeked thru, home again, round two. Still the prison of closed minds and zombie sheep, they're awake they say, from their bleak deep sleep...Off to an island in the sea, Jamaica breeze calling me...to put together the peices I lost wandering amongst the holocaust of deadened creativity...and there discovered my mind was scattered, ego ripped and tattered and shattered, self awake but not on the ground, seeking my soul from the lost and found...and I glued remains of flesh and brains into a coherent and capable flame to withstand the pull of the world and the fool within my spin of twisting spools...and home I crawled with energy high to bid my time till next dreams flight. Then off on bus to coast on west, to possibilities unbound...to peace of mind still not found...and there I met myself and Love, my priddy twin flame, my husband in Soul...now with partner to share the smile to swim the wave in webs of life, I felt complete and strong and sweet and ready to begin my task of breaking the worlds coffin of glass...and we twisted and tugged and loved and hugged, my priddy one and I, back to the land of his home, the emerald isle , the mystical bone
of all I sought and found within...and now life begins again...And now with eyes open to life I see that home was never the strife, the mountains begetting the flame of light that lit my soul and sparked my smile, yes Virginia my dear, I am a child...of your trees and flowers and breeze and rivers that flow and winters deep snow, and yes my parents were right in their ways to leave me free to make my way with mind and heart and soul so free, they never forced a mould upon me, never drowned the I that was Me...within this coagulation of life, energy, consciousness, within this mass of 'IAMTHIS'
and now that time has shriveled into a point of light I choose to peruse, I embrace the heart of the world with a smile. I am the eternal girl, the magical child...rogue smile and laughter wild...

A Kiss I Don’t Want To Miss

We wait our whole lives for this
Morning light strikes my lips
It’s a kiss I don’t want to miss
It’s it’s own kind of bliss
When the sun rips my mind to bits
And fists let go
of the need to know
Why the seeds we sow
Grow into deeds that show
Just how little of our roots we know
As saltwater tears turn into mist
Our stories Rise from the black abyss
And sing our scars into soft lips
That open like flowers
Held in the spell of Life’s deep Power
As tongue touches wounds so deep
The blood and the salt trickle thru sleep
To dream of a Well that will topple the tower
As Green Man reclaims the game again
And turns Hours into Nows
That are forever Ours
Somehow.

Charleen Johnston 5-30-22

Trick of the Lens

Take a deep breath , folks,21st century Fox
Poppin off the top of this metropolis, Mocks
Your intelligence and plays on your emotions
So easily led and Fed the poisonous potion
Of political devotion gift wrapped with Shock...
Take a Deep Breathe and be ready to surrender
All the Scripts that rip right thru this Dyin ember
....
Step away from the Line, step away from the Lies
Every single scene is a Set meant for your mind
A studio Setting created just for the blind
Adherence to the program that steers your Lives....

It's not even abstract, not just metaphor...
A Literal Configuration of Lets Pretend Some More
Actors n Agents and Fictitious Stages
The masses addicted to social Graces from
Instagram faces in Media Contagion....

Bless Your hearts, my friends
Find your Center, Within
Everything else
Is a trick
Of the Lens

Charleen Johnston
January 7,2020

Mock the Mockingbird

I like to mock the Mockingbirds
I like to poke the shocking nerves
I like to watch as the terror spits
Out from mouths and fingertips
Clickety clack the keyboard smacks
Lips flapping as vitriol cracks
The surface of the peeling sheath
That hides the blues and blood beneath
That boils with rage and scathing pain
As one-time-friends wrack their brains
To scold and shoosh and spitefully spray
Their 'told you sos' across the screens
Thinking that they're so darned clever
Forgetting that the pointing finger
Always aims straight toward the mirror
Of their very own demons hiding in fear
Afraid to admit they've been fooled again
By the test of the festering war within
That wears the masks of red and blue
Dressed up in fancy political suits
So lost in the drama they think it is real
The marionettes strings are tangled, my dears
The clarity is strangled by manipulated fear
You believe what you see, you see
Because the Net-Flicks the switch of Reality
And if its on a screen by golly it MUST Be
Real and sudden and Oh No, can you believe?
I saw it with my own two eyes! I swear!
See that footage, right there!!!!
I told you so! I told you they are bad'...now
cue the echo chamber as curtain goes down...
Start a new thread and congratulate yourself
For berating your fellows and falling in line
With the pre-programmed WashingOfMind...
You see, I'm mirroring the collective hypocrisy
In my raspy lambasting of this communocracy
Laugh at yourselves and remember you're human
Just like that other person that your poison is harming....

Charleen Johnston 1-6-21

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