Broken Through

Becoming one with this itch, I scream
silently pointing fingers of blame
mirror mazes blazes back at me
with glaring intensity
I scratch; hide from the faces
that hatch within this mould,
folding in on me; becoming me
in some sick dream…wearing
my masks and laughing
till my words spill chaotically
trying hurriedly to heal
the split; duality disappearing
with Light embracing Dark,
a dance of essence…
and I am reformed,
consciously;
I take the fake parts and hearts
and tear them apart
to reveal the Real,
the healing taking place between
this world and this dream
the great arc, the great bowl
with which my fever is fed,
this empty vessel fuelling
fire in my head;
I am held; they drink of me
like a wine sweet;
the intoxication of the beast;
listen, dear sir…would you care
to cleave this belief with me,
turn it into dichotomy?
Ah, there’s the secret, the sane
hand with which I claim
this land, this realm…
splitting hairs for fear of
Life, reconciled in the wiles
of the worm; earth furnished
and tarnished to term…
faded…outmoded…games played
with translucent trust…
am I breaking apart, fading away
claiming only the name of
the game, but suffering the
flame like all the rays
that have manifest here
since the Dawn?

~Charleen Johnston 2005

Odd to Self Righteousness

everywhere I look, everywhere I see
the darkest of darkness peeking out
from a cracked vessel trying to Be

woman turns on man, sister on brother
pointing fingers gnarled snarls
condemning one another

the great Web, tangled souls, human mess
terrified Minds , shouting mouths
convinced of their own righteousness

lost in the labyrinth of mental tricks
blaming each other for tocs and tics
forgetting that flesh and heart and blood
mean more than media falsehoods

Ideologies and Isms created as schisms
which one do you belong to?
hate your brother your father your mother
unless they agree with you ?

We are all the same here, we are all in the Tear
that falls further each day
from the Eye that seems to look the other way

so close your Screen, stop tapping keys
open your heart, try to see
youve been tricked into hating
your Human Family

As long as the Hatred blinds the Fearer
You are the same as your Neighbor
Staring in the Mirror

“Spy vs. Spy, baby’s a freak show
Lines form just to the right of your keyhole
Eyes from the paintings seem to follow
Mirrors cap both ends of your telescope.”

Charleen Johnston 1/25/17

The TerraFractal

….the eye of the hurricane is on its way, to ransack and flapjack
the core of all our brains, speeding up the rate at which we perceive the
perforation, the fate of which could rip and tear a nation, a station, a
fusion of minds incoherent redundant grasping for meaning but dormant
fleeing the feeling of torment peeling the rots from the dealings and
knots from the zealous run leper run

run leper run its all just for fun
on a level so deep its not understood does it make it less
Real
does it make it less concrete does it make it worth
the run the gun the gripping of the sun in attempt to hide defeat

SMILE on the periphery it is a storm, a chaos, an insistence on resistance
but at the core, it’s unchanged, it neverwas and neverwillbe, and neveris,
but still
existing giving us the balance to create
lands in time hands in line to co create with malleable laws

implicate order enfolded within each explicate experience
shooting out from the source in fractals of difference and intensity
and vibration and density till the impulse reaches completion
loses its thrust coarsens its vibration yet mimics the One
and then begins its evolution back to the Within with all the
cohesion of experience and lessons and soulsparks and
mouldings holding on to Awareness as it ascends
back to the heart of the hologram to enrich the totality
of all that is
with each divine perspective as it returns
and ReTurns the wheel as the cycle continues
and spins out again
the impulsion the force the flickering light of
love to enforce the dynamic dance of desperate
dreams……………

charleen johnston 2004

Requiem

What does this spiral storm
Hold for me
Where does this winding path
Lead me

Am I passing thru unnoticed
In fragments of disguise
Remnants of understanding
Discarded
As l i e s….

The cycles compel us to
Forge forward
On this journey
The wheels of time
Ever so gently turning
Twisting
Stories and dreams
And whisperings into
Sculptures with essence
And imaginings

Dance like silver star s I l v e r n I g h t
Smiling from afar

(are we barred from ever reaching
Those shores that speak of transcendence?)

The ringing singing tone
Of E ve r y th I n g
Clap clapping deafening

Forces me to awaken from this dream

The requiem
Outlasted me

Finding once more simpler
Shores timeless tales metaphors

The path of fire that leads up thru time
Up thru spine out of mind

Is open before me

Am I
R e a d y to r e c I e v e ?

Charleen Johnston 2004

I saw Her face in a Dream

I saw her face in a dream
and knew that she was me
just a child just a wild
apparition running free
but where to hide
when the light peeks thru
to spaces that remain
untouched by truth
where to hide when I die
forced thru the threshold
to life, birth, earth
river, flame, sky…
…I chose this moment
to swim thru the sieve
I chose the mother
whose heartbeat I recieve
till the lightning strikes me
and I am born,
torn from the watery depths
shorn like wool from
my mothers lips…as she
whispers me, sings me into
Being, breathing, teething
seething underneath for
those phantoms and thieves
who starve the souls
who carve the coals from
the mothers folds, strip
her of her glow, furnace
flames grip and will not
let go,
let be,
let come to me this
hidden dream, a birth
to be recieved, a slow
moulding of individuality
though sheltering unity,
ah, but disease, follows me,
I heard her cry,
teardrops slipped from her
eyes, my eyes, mothers thighs
have been violated, raped
with scraped knees she
begs me now, recovering from
the crowds jeers and cheers
and fears of what lay beyond
the tunnels, the ponds
that make up her body,
the veins that feed the
brains that bleed the
sanity, leaking in streams
humility, dripping it seems,
splitting the seams
of this alltooreal dream,
and she closes her mouth
to keep out pollution
to keep in the solution
to her fears, to her years
of writhing in misery,
to be delivered from
humanity(s)weet plea,
please, hold the hand
of the motherland, surrender
to life and birth and
death on earth it’s all
too soon it’s all too
blue it’s all a cycle
of force and food,
feed the seed,
need the me
that slips
thru tunnels
soft like dew
slips thru caverns
to be born
to you…

Charleen Johnston 2004

I Am a Solar Cell

I am a Solar Cell
A Battery
Of Souls & Selves
Charged
By the Holy Dweller
On the Threshold
Of Heaven & Hell
A Matter
Of Patterns
In Stories I tell
Seen thru Eyes
And Mind
And Why’s
Man
Follows
Behind
Tides that Swell
As Time
In Spaces
And Faces Foretell
The Climbing Vine
From Immortal Well
Of Life
Divine

Charleen Johnston 2-20-22

Can you Spell it out for me, Mister Dream???

A spoken work spontaneous collaboration I did with Keith Trayler on drums, at the Warehouse Art Gallery. Check out the link below!!!! The words will follow….. this is a part of my Blindsight is 2020 collection of poetry that can be found on this site.

Can you Spell it out for me, misterDream?
Can you tell me how to open the twisted screen? In the back room of this microcosmic vacuum sits a dialectical demon with a face that looks like me…spilling simple satire with the fire of certainty. Can the foggy mirror be wiped clearer, by the hand of the man who refuses to stand for the nearest and dearest hearts of the clan? Let’s see, let’s discern the irony… The mires that we have chosen to believe that seed this dying creed of iron deeds locked in steal with grips of fear on fiery steeds ….. Twisting the plot and trotting thru electricFields that yield the knots and tangled spokes from the turning Wheel that broke the Seal between WhatIs & WhatIsNot. For Real. Man. What a crazy Plan . A Game of Planes and PassionsOfPan dancing thru the degrees of Am. PM me with the lowdown, whisper in rumors of what’s going around, we can thicken the desperate drama and Play like Clowns…. Tricksters testing Paradox and Talking UpsideDown, we can rockAndRoll through Sight and Sound as the chessboard wavers on the merryGoRound…. SinEwaves savoring Light as the curtain goes down…..

Scene One is seen Thru, it was Planned Too…. Dangling Dialectic from the ceiling of this BleedThrough…. Hegel wrote the words to spell out the Game that’s played in the dressing Room as the audience waits, debating the nature of isolation as Indig.Nations fates are flavored with States of Vexation as Altered Carbon caters to the next mutation…..

Shadows shadows shadows on the wall, good guys bad guys rise and fall, breath by breath and life by death and brick by brick we build the Wall, one by one and None by All….Too mixed up to heed the Call….Three times Charmed with shock&awe as For the record the Lines are drawn…….Phi.ve times LifeTimes Venus FlyTrap dines on Tangled EyeCons in the dance of Dreaming dodecahedrons….Sixual Mayhem birthing through Us & Them in triangular penetrations of particulars in WaveWeaves of instinctual variations …Sexagonal vibration as the Exact Middle Compromise of Creation interrupting Infinite Potentiation…. A rupture of the hymen that seeks satiation…. Virginal Seven in Deep initiation never divided nor multiplied inSide of TenTs of Mind that abide in Destin(ysAb)ation
…..zen…. Within…. The W8 of the Gate of the Octave that initiates the Fate of the sacred States of Self inDwelling in Games of Play in Nine Lives ReWinding on hard drives and BytesOfTime spitting Neurolinguistic prayer in rhyming software that invites the Tribe to Dive Into the the broken binary groove of Moving Truths ….Wholeness split into Ten threadBare bits of DecaDent Twists of the loom as looping recursion creates diversion in hateful versions of fleshExcursions as ELeven
RightAngles Dangle from heaven as Self appointed gods&angels of the ArcOftheCoven
In tangled tests of woven GovernMent…. Sovereign exploration of the Self InDignation that forces the faces of contortion of Space&Time to confront the Mirror of the Mind and gather the Fragments scattered Inside as Self ReMembers It Turns Its Own Tides and inJoys The ride of the Twelve archetypal Primes as the Rhyme subside and the Waves enGraved in playful Mazes Fade into GroundZero …. The center of the Spindle of the Core Processor….the chessboard squares dwindle and melt in predecessors of Jesting Jesters inGesting Lessons from Gestation ….. Ahhhhhh…..the Spell is Broken…. A simple Token as the spoken narration nestles into a quiet corner of this newly Woken Nation…..

Charleen Johnston
5-6-2020

This is just an appetizer…(below)

This is just an appetizer,
A map divider of rapt insiders
Forcing the feast
Waking the sun from its house on the run
In its seat in the east
As the New Day has Begun
To Rise from the leaven
Grasping for heaven like sticky yeast
In the hearts of the Bretheren
Who Follow the One
This is just a test
A wrestling match for this and that,
Insistence upon investments
Of wrath , chessboard messages
Mined From Maat
Made to Order and gift wrapped
With blessings from the Masters Staff
This is just a preView
A Bleedthrough of previous Yous
And future Truths spread
Like glue on a threadbare Loom
A Cyclic Read-thru by
Seeds In Bloom who feed on the
Compost of Doom and Gloom
Watered by Calm Hosts of the holy ghost
In a Darkened Room
This is just a Program
A WebCam from the I AM
A trip through the moist dew
Of tangled Threads of angled Truths
Dangling plans and potent proofs
Hanging Men and Lambs in Suits
Of Carded Wool and broken Bootes
Icarus in thick black dust
From falling to the Earth with Us
This is just a Club of Trust
A Heartfelt Synod of Love and Lust
Working Soil with Spades of Rust
In Hardened Narratives and deep
Imperatives that only blades
Of Diamonds can cut
Through the Crystallized Sleep
Of frequency and AllThatIs
Now
A Sequel to Be

Charleen Johnston 4-28-2020