Don’t they know

My Old art year 2000
Don’t they know? 
They are all just electromagnetic pulses
All just embryos in the body
Of motherMatterMaterMatrix
Placental playscapes practicing for ultimate
Power in the Now
Or Never
Dont they know?
They all suck from the teat of the Same name
What’s the Formula for this false Game?
What’s the concoction that allows the blame
To be placed outside
Fingers pointed in chiding derision
Forgetting that the Self
Makes its own decisions
And needs no Other to order decrees
A sovereign Being earns its degrees
On the zodiacal wheel
No permission needed from any
Pretense of Real
Power
This is Ours
It’s now and Flowers
Unfold when the hour is too old
To cower any longer behind the soul
Of latency
The Elect of Life
Electricity
Spermatic emphatic God of pregnancy
Sparks divine creation
In Magnetic womb , magdalenes elation
To carry the sonic boom
Of natures embodied satiation
Sacred
Sacred …..
Scared with hatred and fake matrix
Manipulation
They all scream
All hide in foggy dreams denying
Their own hand in this plagiarism
The Cluster of Cells where
In-dwells the Hint
Of sacrificial embodiment
Asks only to hold the mirror
Do you know?
Do you know Who you are?
Are you a gob of flesh
Staring into the abyss of imprisonment
Angry at fragments of your own
Disillusionment?
Fears and tears and shame from years
Of traumatic wounds
And dismemberment?
Are you a pulsing electromagnetic spectacle
Of stardust impregnated into the divine mother
I-And-US
Unfolding embryonic supersonic lust
For Life
Wandering Waves of cosmic Dust
Dancing the dream of Being
As Body
Bleeding with the intense need
To See
The True Seed that grows within
This multidimensional PlayPen
Again and again.
What’s the Formula for the artificial
Algorithm
That tosses you to and fro
From -ism to -ism
Falling prey to the slayers
Of minds beauty
And truth
And dangling your sovereign self
From the tight noose
Of proof
That red fish blue fish
One fish two fish
Keeps the Me
And the
You
Twisted
Into dichotomy
Wishing for ancient sanctions
So patiently
Doctoring reality
To give permission
To step out of this glistening
Wet-dream
Steeped
In sterile
Seeds
Injected into bodies
That no longer
Bleed.
Free.
The Self.
And
See.
Differently.

CLJ 6-28-22

Some Wakings 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.

11-25-21

Loom of Time & Space

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

In the Grip

Photo by Riordan Galluccio
I am in the Grip....
The soft lips of silence
Parting
To receive me
The deep longing of reMemberence
Grieves
And delivers the Seething
Wet tip of the daimons
Embrace
Inside this rushing
River
Of Time and Space
As the trip
Within
Begins
Peeling the Skin away
Cracks in the blackened
Facade
Tremble in ecstasy
The Nigredo of
Alchemy
Opening
As two trapped Currents
Seek amnesty
In the Only
Way
That I~s can conceive
Of Uniting
In this Bleeding Dream...
Penetration
Intensity of Consecration...
the Heart
Of the Diamond
Body
Built from the Souls
Transmutation....

Charleen Johnston
10-11-21

When I became a mother….

16 years ago I opened the Vesica so my Golden SonShine could spray his Radiance into this Reality.
I was told by so many people that I was Crazy…. For
Having an unassisted Pregnancy without a single doctor visit or test or invasion of my temple…for Birthing him at home, into my own hands, without outside interference by by anyone…..For not cutting his Umbilical cord and instead allowing it to detach in its own as he gently transitioned from one dimensional Space to another….for keeping him skin to skin contact constantly for the first week, and almost constantly til he could maneuver away on his own….for wearing him in slings snd on my back constantly til he walked at almost 10 months snd chose to run and explore….for never using diapers and instead learning his signals and pottying him…for Breasfeeding him til he turned 5, and never once giving him a bottle or pacifier or artificial external soothing substitutes…for sleeping with him for many years, and making sure his Bonding was secure and filled with love and support…never leaving him alone to cry as a baby…and especially called crazy and irresponsible for him never having been to a single doctor visit or test, nor allowed a single
Va$$ination or other invasion of his temple.

Everyone makes the choices they are comfortable with, and these were choices I was willing to defend with my life. When you defy everyone around you and in the face of societal and family programming, claim full Responsibility for your Gestation and Birth process and the consequences thereof, and choose to be a Testament to Sovereignty on all levels of your Being, you will receive all kinds of projections from the masses and from those who are so afraid of their own Power that they will silently hope for your downfall for the very act of standing against a System of Disempowerment.

It’s never easy to spend your life learning, and taking responsibility for your own Health and the health of your child. It takes courage and focus, and Trust in a level of being that will test every bit of you along the way. It’s not for the faint of heart. I’m not judging anyone who doesn’t make the same choices I made.
But I still stand by my own decisions, and I have a 16 year old blossoming Man, who has made it til now with not a single doctor visit ( minus a required Physical to enter high school)or allopathic intervention, or injection….he’s incredibly intelligent and quick minded, extremely robust physically, and very much his own person, with little care for impressing the crowd. I am grateful beyond measure.

I have made many hard decisions in my life, and more than once left behind everything I care about, in order to do what I felt was the right thing for the larger picture and others involved. Some may judge those decisions also, over the past several decades, harshly. The one thing I can stand by, is that every single choice I have ever made…I take full responsibility for. And there’s not a single person other than myself in all these years thst I blame for anything. Birthing my son in the way I did, and raising him against the tide of social norms and msss programming, was an Initiation of the highest order, and In the current climate of Medical Tyranny, and Invasion of Individual Will , and Rape of the Human Body and Mind with Injections and forced Penetration and Programs and surrender of Soul to a Machine that is little understood by those who have lived their entire life giving over the responsibility for their Lives and Health to something outside of them…. I Renew my Vow of Sovereignty…
And will undergo whatever further initiations that are calling me, with absolute surrender to my own Individual Path and Acceptance of Responsibility.
While allowing others to do whatever it is that they feel called to do, without interference by me.

May all beings find their Empowerment and reClaim their Divine Will and ReMember that Body is something so miraculously magical…. The more one lives in harmony snd devotion to their own physical body, the more they will live in alignment and devotion to the body of Earth…. And the less Fear of the greater Reality.

Blissed Be. Happy Birthday to my Starchild , and also to the Mother I became on this day 16 years ago.

CLJ 1-29-22

Woman

Woman. Fire. Sexuality. Writhing. Snakes. Burning. Fierce.

What is Woman?  What should Woman be?  Seems there are an infinity of answers, an unending barrage of ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’ attached to the archetype of Woman. There are thousands of books out there, and papers, articles, essays….all on what it means to be Woman, where the roots of Woman are, what the future of Woman will be. Woman in Relationship; Woman as Mother; Woman as Daughter; Woman as Newly liberated. All just archetypal relationships of energy. Points of light dancing on a blueprint. What does Woman FEEL like? What does it FEEL like to Be Woman? When I stretch my body and feel the nerves awaken, the muscles loosen, the blood flowing, I feel the Primal Womanity spread thru my being, touching everything within and around me with a fire that can be too intense to name, too generalized to capture, too strong to ignore. When I run, footstep by footstep upon the Earth or upon the dark armor of pavement that strangles the Earth….I pound out the rhythm of my strength…my endurance…my desire. I am in balance, carried by the amazing strength and intent of my legs….those pillars that exist to connect me with physicality in a way that is dynamic and delightful. With every inhale I accept into me the Breathing of Gaia and of all who have borrowed oxygen from Her since the first moment of carnal experience. With every exhale I give back that which is not mine, but which has filled me with the potential to Feel and to Move and to Think and to Smile. This dance of breath, over time, brings a calm, fluid expanse of  blue to my bones, to my blood, and to my aura……the Woman I Am Playing at Being  is quickening her pace, soaring with the wind of thought and mind and communication….but on a level that is unspoken, indirect, unperturbed,content with  indistinct flow. When I make masters of my hands and set them to the task of patchworking a multitude of found and loved and used and old and outworn objects and fabrics and things together into new personalities, new beings, new symbols of the creative spirit……I worship the Woman of my soul….I allow her to speak thru me in ways that are unique and true, fun and playful, wise and foolish both.  With every stitch I set an intention to Love. With every seam I am becoming aware of my relationship to Each and to All.  With every color I make a statement of what I see in the moment, how I feel in this particular flash of eternity.

When I draw, She draws thru me….she moves the contour of my pen like she moves the contour of my world……making space where there is none, opening doors where stagnation has set. When I laugh, it is Woman who cackles…..deep belly laughter coming from someplace ancient, yet futuristic, yet HereNow….Present…….a laughter that has no fear, no self consciousness, no agenda, no apologies. I like laughter that is unrestrained, inappropriate, uncouth, taboo, deep and wide, harsh and shrieking, anything that comes from that endless well within which the madwoman gathers her nourishment.  When I smile, I am a doorway for Woman. I am a light that shines, makes it ok to OpenWide…..to be filled with Joy. When I smile, I am giving to you. I am telling you…..Woman is Here…..Naked and Alive…..please come in!  When I   cook I am transforming energies….an alchemy of fire and taste and sacrifice and honor. I am Woman feeding the World from her Body. When I dance I am Her…..I move like tendrils, like serpents in the agony of ecstasy. I dance to Become Myself. To Become Woman That I AM. I am in a different state….an alternative mode of being……the whispers within me become a chant and my body moves….purposeful but without agenda, intense but without direction. Fluid but contained. Passionate yet serene. I am a Muscle of Bliss……swaying to the rhythm of the blood that carves its path out in the rivers of my Body.

When I make love, I am Woman. Feverish. Fire. Wet Pulsating mass of wide open nerves and cells and points of light and waves of bliss. I am Here. Fully. But also There. Inside the Mouth of Woman. I am channel. I am no longer personal. I am Priestess. The Flame guides me, sings me……my Body. Woman. Conduit. Portal. Woman. Burning. Crying out. Articulating. Gesticulating. Giving. Worshipping. Body. of Man. of Woman. of Infinity. I will take you in…you are amorphous mass dissolving in my cauldron of heat….of vibrating muscle memory, of oscillating frequencies of  Bliss and Pleasure. The Tantrika. The Initiator. Come in and Play. With Woman. When I fuck, I am goddess. I am demon. I am of the underworld. Of heaven. I am paradox. I am terribly frightening in my devotion. Terrifying in my strength. Beautiful in my Body. Inhabited. In touch….with every corpuscle and every hair….I am moving. Moving. Woman. Trembling. Woman. Touching. Woman. Caressing. Woman. I honor the body of Man. I honor the body of Woman. I honor the body of Earth. I honor the body of Form and the unbody of formlessness. I drink you. I eat you. I melt you with the heat of a billion suns and let your Self be re-formed and cooled in the satiating waters of reflection and assimilation. When I invite you in, I tantalize; every sense is used and every limb is a tool of touch and taste. Woman. Feeling the fire rise…….lead by the breath…systematic patterns….coaxing particular passions and pleasures……depends on the rhythm…..everything Connected….Give in…LET GO…..LET GO…..BE WOMAN…..LET GO….Surrender   to your Primal Raw Wild Abandon. No apologies. No shame. No limits. No guilt. No control. No agenda. Be. Beautiful. HumanButNotHuman. Dark Dakini calls you down. I am Her. Inhabit yourself. Inhabit Woman. Draw Her down into your sacred skin and bones. Maker Her Alive. Live on the edge of Her. Every touch errogenous. Every murmur a blessing. Every scream a sonnet. Every Orgasm a Prayer. A Prayer. A prayer. Every climax  a Chant. That is your moment. That Moment. Is. WOMAN. Release. Woman. at Ease. Woman. in that Moment of Woman, the Universe is Womb. What you hold in your mind, in your heart, in your body, in your soul, at that very Moment of Climax, of Womanness, you send out into the Ethers…..it will be enlarged and given substance, and made dense……..and be of your World. Focus those energies of Woman. Let them be centered in Love and Joy and Respect and Harmony and Acceptance and Tolerance. That moment, and the dance that becomes It, are….for me….what Woman means. A woman with no connection to Body, to Heart, to Passion, to Sexuality, to Fire, to Sweat, to Absurdity, to Primal Wild Raw Energy and Excitement…..is……not Woman. Woman exists in man too. Woman is palpable, tangible yet diffuse…..erotic in every aspect of Life…….tinges the world with a golden aura of enthusiasm, exertion and incredible connections with Source and FragmentsOfSource. 

I choose to Burn in the Flames. I choose to Feel the Pain. I choose to writhe in agony and in ecstasy, as the moment dictates. I would not trade my tenderness or my strength, I would not trade my lows and my darkness and my underworld soul for a life of flatline emotion, or unmoved calm.

I feel it all I feel it all. I am Woman. I heed the call.

copyright Charleen Johnston 2011