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

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

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

a crack in the sky

I slipped through a crack in the sky
Tripped right over my own silly I
And plummeted
Through the atmosphere
Of dancing atomsHere
Mapping tears as Phos Fears
Wrath and mirrors
Refracting Errors
As Eros Arrows begin to fly
Aimed at Body as Blind Mind tries
To hold on
Hold out
Hold still as Tempest rages about
Weightless Images in cages
Break the lock
And find their way out, in…
Eyes of Mages and Pupils
And Sages
Wake with the shock
Of the skin
As it begins to peel
Away from the clock tocking within
The rhythm of Opening
And closing
Pounding it’s poultice and pouring
Its Salve at ions Dreaming
As men
And women
Dressed as Time
Spiral path in precious Flesh
Dancing thru the Annals of Spine
My oh my
The journey tries my Patience
As I Let Go, satiated by the Doctors
Cosmic Order….the Flow
Aeons of tight fisted History
I now come to Grips With…
I hit the Smooth surface
Of my Mothers Womb….
Taste the salty brine and prepare
To slip through
SineWave Lips
Soft as sultry hips that shimmy
And shimmer as Soul unfolds in bloom
A Sacred Intention to Serve This
Body of Being
As I am Birthed from the Dark Deep See
Into the Light of a New Me
that Bleeds
Stories and Deeds filled with the Perfume
Of the Divine embrace
Shiva and Shaktis infinite Delight
Making Love from the Loom
Of Time and Space.

Charleen Johnston
10-25-21

The Vestement

Model Reese Miller/Couture Fashion Charleen Johnston/Photography Charleen Johnston
I make my way inside, the tomb
and rise
again
from feelings that flew too close
to you,

torn from the womb, tethered hands
sworn to illumine weathered lands

and i crash again
back into
seed

full thrust while blossoms
bleed
life into the few
of the
new breed

that makes its way thru density
seizing sight, thru intensity
of light
that makes it all grow

up and away from the roots that
know...

breaking tearing swearing making
moods that fade too soon
foods that make new moon

out of fragments that form too loose
sometimes

to hold the rhyme inside,
tucked beneath the rising tide
of things we share
and things we hide

waiting for the revelation
to seep up from our pores
into our mind
tending the sores that
stifle the times which await birth
here
in the name of earth
in the name of the mother
in the name of the bearing
and the burdens of Other
ways

to see here, to know here, to feel
hear and peel clear
of stagnant flesh

saturation

the sudden dawning
e v o l u t i o n
and
i n v o l u t i o n

POISED

between worlds in balance
minds of latency
bending and twisting

and T
U
R
N
I
N
G
back
upon
itself

remembering the white shroud which once it wore
swore to remain unstained
but the blackened charred robe of the stars
of the wisdom of moments
tore thru that fantasy
to create a dream
so real
it s e e m s to feel
its own thrust
in the darkness
of the blinding light
beckoning sight
into
existence.

Resistance repeats
cyclic defeats
and victories

mysteries mana urging us on
toward the breathing pull
of the sun
as it
rocks
a n d
cradles
its child
gently beneath the vestment
of LIFE.

Charleen Johnston 2004

⌛️✨🃏 Time is Now Is Time 🃏✨⌛️

Daimons Embrace

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

Bond of Breath

Photo by me/Charleen Johnston. Models Reese Miller & Drea Bleu Good-Brown
A counterBalance ...perhaps....
When the chasm beckons
And the perilous chapel
Seeks it's reckoning
Thru maladies and maniacal
Mishaps
That overlap Present & Past Times
That threaten to Bind
Tight
The blind spots with tangled knots
In games of Daimonic power
Buried
In unfolding fractal flowers
Of 'Sight
Or
Blind DeLight '
As the shattered Tower
Falls
And Offers its gift

A suture to bridge the rift

Shall i Fly from this precipice
Or fall to my Death
As the urge to transcend
The Bond of Breath

Charleen Johnston
9-30-21