Singing birds singing souls
Twitchy eyes and wiggly toes
I think I see it, a comfy bed
Where I can rest and lay my head.
Rest Will Come
Dignity is to dream without ceasing
She wiggles her toes
and reaches toward the heavens
itās not so far, she heard in a song
the heavens, that is. It is
much closer than we think. At least
thatās what they tell us.
is it hope that I cling to
while I wrestle with his faith
faith in me faith in God ā faith
a silent thing that pulses with
confirmation when you let it come
Is it dignity to release hope?
Is it dignity to release faith?
No, a stern no.
It is dignity to clutch on
even when there is so much left to lose.
Saschia Johnson
Sandals
Queen Shit
The red sea divides
the waves crash and hold their place
she walks between
unscathed
untouched and welcomed
into new lands as she breaks free
from the past
that clung to her
like wet clothes on a hot summer day
now sheās got
sand between her toes and
she doesnāt even need her sandals
Saschia Johnson
originally posted on Jaynepress.medium.com
Go Out and Give it Away
You know that thing youāre clinging on to too tight, itās time to give it away.
The tighter you squeeze
the less it can breathe
Give it away.
Stop holding it secret
or hostage or in the dark corner
of your closet
Give it away.
It wasnāt meant to be
saved for only you and
the few you choose
Give it away.
-Saschia Johnson
Originally posted on Jaynepress.medium.com
The highlighted lines are the lines my medium community really enjoyed. Thanks for reading.
And Then I Sleep
Thereās a drummer in my ear
Iāve been just about to tears since they
started three days ago
I donāt know why theyāre here.
but they are, so I listen
and I hum and I sway
and I write in ways that might just
record what theyād have to say if
their music spoke words
and then, I sleep peacefully
Saschia Johnson
The Wind Collector
What does it mean to be a whole person?
He toils away
his days tossed like the dirty laundry
thatās left next to the hamper.
Not an ounce of passion
pulses through his tired veins.
His insides sink below the earth
while his muscle memory does the work
Am I of any use here? he shouts to the heavens.
The wind places itself into his net
What use am I to the wind?
ā ā ā
-Saschia Johnson
Prompt response to Dianaās publication Know Thyself Heal Thyself
This poem was originally published on a Medium publication titled Know Thyself Heal Thyself. The highlighted sections are the lines Medium readers appreciated most.
Bitten
Lyme Disease and Lovers
My fourth chakra swells
and thumps in strange ways
Iāll adjust Iāll adjust Iāll adjust,
it beats at 3am or
just past 10
There is no rhyme or reason
maybe a rhythm but thatās
some other vibration
My mouth howls
forā¦ forā¦ for
the fog to clear
For a moment of art
to come tumbling into my arms
like a lost lover with no where else to turn
there she would sit and stare
until I make her into the masterpiece
sheās been begging for the world to see
-Saschia Johnson
This was originally posted on https://jaynepress.medium.com/ Click link to read more poetry by Saschia Johnson
The Stars Fell by Chris Mason
A review by JC Patterson published on March 21, 2021
The Stars Fell by Chris Mason
Interview Series Announcement
š sharing for those interested
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She Holds the Knife
āChallenge Your Perceptionā A Short Story in response to Know Thyself Heal Thyself
Jayne.PressFeb 15 Ā· 2 min read
She paces toward the bathroom. Her loafer slippers drag against the floorboards to the beat of the music. The bedroom is cool but the rest of the house is a thousand degrees. āItās never ok to hurt someone, not physically or any other way.ā
Hell wouldnāt have a bedroom to cool off in, sheās lucky. Sheās a lucky girl to have such pleasures in this life. The clock on wall ticks but she canāt hear it even when she gets in its face. She feels her chest begin to sweat.
Back to the bedroom.
The house is full of her acceptance. A beautiful house on a U with a ghost-black gate around it. No trespassers. No hate from the outside coming in, just a community of names. Everyone knows names.
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