Chrysalis

CHRYSALIS

I twist into these mournings, daylight
saving me
from the burning flame of darkness
swallowing my emptiness
while waves of irony wash over me
i am toppled by the days
and silently
i sit hovering…
wondering if i can float this
time
wandering thru wastelands of
my mind
picking up the book written by me
on the other side of the dream
the other side of the dream
where it all spins into me…
i find all the lost notes
and all the lost tones
and all the lost fractures
of all my mended bones

I am painted the color red.
I am tainted, the mother has bled

we
D
R
I
P
together
thru the weathered web, creating worlds
in our head, to spew out into
the ethers,
to want neither this nor that
nor wonder where its at,
but to birth the beginning
again….
knowing we are just seasons of rhyme

flowering in our own time
chrysalis, wrapped up in a fairytale
of all that is and was and
wasnt for sale…

Across these moonbeams, these split
seams, these written clingings to the dream….
across
all
these
we call to invisible bodies
that are singing in their invisible moments
that are bringing their
soulstuffs into existence
to balance the tension
of the desire to Be,
and to not Be….

and therein….lie……We….
somewhere in between.

~Charleen Johnston
2004

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...

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

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

Paradox of Paradise

The waking awoke me from the broken spokes
Paradox in playful parade of fire and smoke
Of wise and fool and flaming jewels
Paradise and Purgatory and Names and Tools
Of wandering Souls paying the Toll
Knowing the Self at the center of it All
The dream of darkness as Journey unFolds
Beloved Becoming the Beauty and Awe
The whispered twist in the Story descends
Terror within the minds of men
Of magic and moments and omens of death
Immortality shatters the body with breath
Alone on the throne Alive in the brine
In the womb of the mother I Rise and Shine
Heaven a garden And Earth a Shrine
The Wandering Soul Awakens in Time
Bondage only a Self Inflicted Game
Broken shards that long for the Kiss
The denial of Desire that Dampens the Flame
Turn Gods into Men and Mind into Mist
Of mourning Suns and evening stars
The patterns of Matter mirror the Heart
Wheel of Wonder in Wandering Space
The Time is at Hand in the gathering place
Magic surrounds the opening of I's
Mirror of mystery masks the disguise
Of the Beloved in Form in Finite Flesh
The surrendering renders me bright & blessed
Self A Pointed Purpose inside the sphere
As projections of Light that Turn the Gears
It spins the Fractal and Loops the Feed
Heals the Tears as Fleshbody Bleeds

Charleen Johnston
9-19-21

First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme

Structural Integration

One Who Cannot reorganize and reOrient ones own body and release the disfunctional Structural rigidity and misAligned Stored Emotional Tensions that create constriction and prevent Free Flow of Life and Experience, cannot ever ReOrient the larger Body Politik. Inherent Apoptosis , wanders thru the Seams to make wY for Dreams of Integrity…. No? Yes….. To Living…. Is Yes to knowing the Key is Within Your own (S)Cell(F)ular Matrix

as history attests, burning the external representation of the system does nothing except make the scared herd cling ever more tightly to some semblance of being protected and corralled. One must Dismantle the Internal Structure that Bars the Being from ever realizing he never was a Victim to begin with; living an Authentic Life precludes the basic Fact that no outside agency has authority over ones Being, and begins with the tiniest gestures , of which very few people ‘alive’ are willing to Do, because as confining aS it is, most would rather be able to point their finger outside themselves instead of take full responsibility for theirSelf 🌟🃏🌟

….and ‘burning the ruling establishment to the ground in violent revolution ‘ is exactly what ‘they’ want, because in the intermediary chaos and confusion, ‘they’ simply reInstill and reInStall a tighter Reign on the Mind and the Hearts of those who know not how to exist within the Fluidity of ‘No Structure Imposed From Without’…One who has not learned to Organize their own Coherent Existence from Within cannot hope to exist peacefully in a systemless social arrangement any more respectably than one who concedes to the Program in order to remain comfortable.

El.ect-roMantic.al Maze

You can call them 
He Or
El or Shiva
Or even
Well…
God….
Perhaps Electricity…
I will say
Sacred Salacious
Spermatozoan
SineWave
SUperluminescent PsychoBioBabe
Sparking Time
For Selves at Play.
You can call them
She Or
Magdalene
Or Shakti- heavens
Bride & Queen
Goddess of EveryThing…
Perhaps Magnetism…
I will say
Sacred Salacious
WOmb of Creation
Sultry SineWave
SuperMatterMaterMotherMatrix
Making Spaces
For Selves at Play.
The MagIC MagNet of MagNificent
MagIcians
So ELoquently ELevating ELemental
ELect

In.perfect.matrimony.
harmony.of.stars.as.shards.
Of.wave-ing.bards. Sparked.
Into.Partic.ulars.forming.worLds.
As.words.disturb.the.silent.stillness.
Of.the.Unobserved.as.the.raw.nerves.
Of.magdalenes.body.exposes.pure.
Mirrors.of.Magnetic.Seers.ELect-romantically.
Sealed.into.secrets.pretending.
To be.
Here.
Now.
Breathe.

CLJ 6-20-22

Between Whisper and Scream

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

We Think In Between The Joints

“We think in between the joints”
Entire universes spread out like Time
As Space hides Selves lost in sockets
And held in rhyme, woven…wrenched
From the mind and hidden in pockets
Within the spine, the hips,
The Shouldered relationships
That bear the burden of Other
Ways, to know here, to feel, hear
And peel clear of stagnant flesh…
Just one. More.Deep. Breath.
Laying prone in a sea of flesh
Held together by pure force of Will
In a dance with past Feels and Reels
That loop and tangle and twist
As The feedback strangles the bliss
Of Letting Go into the abyss
Of the Space between
The floor
and Me
As Self is reCentered in between
The open Doors and open Seams
Of I and Thou
And dancing dreams.
I release…. The tight grip
That has ripped me apart
For 41 years
Held together by pure force of Will
In a shifting atmosphere
Of dizzy atoms here
Playing tricks of light
In a mind held so tight
The body rebels…
Swelling with the trapped rage
In masked pages of the Word
That Stages the painful dichotomy…
Seams so loose
It all spills out of me
Chaotically
I seem to lose autonomy
Christened by the insistence
Of my Fascial Lobotomy incised
By internal programs
That overRide
Who I Am
And climb thru the cavernous
Space
Between the Fleshy Creed
That plays at Being Me….
It Dawns so suddenly
The force of Feeling bleeds
As pounding Heart Seeds frequencies
Illuminating
The maze that traps me….
Dramatic release….
A lifetimes unEase freed
As the iron grip can no longer hold
I leak right out of the mould
And gather
In a puddle of matter
And Mater and Mother
And matrix
Of Self & Other
And Open to the Fugue
As the Swoon subsides….
And There
I Am
Peering In
From Outside the Lines
Where Dark matter
Claims the Mind
And Patterns
The Play
Of Somas Shame
As it falls into the rhythm
Of psyches Game.

Charleen Johnston
5-14-22

Inspired by Sophie’s Strands fb post below

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10228554482073707&set=a.1499832382446&type=3

A visceral reflection of how over muscled and controlled my Soma has been
as a lifetime of the threat of puddling right out of my skin
Has overcompensated
To keep the chaos out( or in?)
Hippos are meant to be soft
And buoyant
As they navigate the waters
Of the emotional realm
But mine has crystallized
And been trained
By the Martian masculine
To grip so tight
There is no room
For darkness
In the light
Of Being.
This I Know
And See
As I Do
Now
What is beginning
To come
Naturally.
Let Go
Into the Flow
Of the See of Me
Sew Seamingly slow
And free.