boxes, bins, and labels
where to put it
where to put it
space saver clutter buster
ugh, I broke a nail
garbage bags empty boxes
bend bend bend
batteries screw driver
or is it an Philips head
whatever, as long as it fits
The baby’s coming
deep breath
baby’s coming
-Saschia
Jayne.Press
I think I might take a nap
let the waters lift my burdens
on my descent
I’ll rest my eyes
and let silence wash over me
hugged by darkness
til I’m roused by the light
-Saschia
He’s wild, and uncouth and
scares the others away with
his insane laughter and honest mouth
but the truth is
I want to hear everything
he has to say
-Saschia
Check out my last post at Jayne.Press
The bare trees will begin to bud again
the flowers will crack through the soil
and bloom and amaze us with their colors
We will thaw and glisten under the warm sun
and our thoughts will be on simple things
like picnics with fresh berries and huge sandwiches
or beach days scented of sea salt and sunblock
those days are coming where we
will come to life once again
-Saschia
There’s more poetry at Jayne.press or click here~~~> Makers Of Dreams ~*
how bad do you want it
does it drag you outta bed at one am
do you do it even when you know it’s not perfect
and if you don’t
do the demons of regret torture you until you do
would you sacrifice empty dreams to see a childhood one come true
The truth is I’d be ok drifting back into nothing
but this dream it’s got a hold of me
and it’s going to drag me outta bed at one am
and make a fool of me
it will prod me until words bleed from my fingers
because it won’t let me die living on empty dreams
-Saschia
You are worth more than a thousand words
you’re worth the search that never ends
As long as you are the light at the end of my tunnel
I’ll always have something to strive for
-Saschia Johnson
the pain is relieved
from my hips and my pelvis
between tiny contractions
is heavenly rest
pillows prop me and
I dose off thinking of what
it will all be like when she’s here
-Saschia Johnson
There’s a breeze and a howl
there’s a dance I’ve missed
one I’ve longed for
and one I remember
stomach pains and a kick in the rib
my mind squanders and so I do too
I’m here then I’m not
I’m connected then drifting
oh the fires of life burn
so strongly in my soul
-Saschia
The words that drift out of me are sometimes a shocker. Who’s that man with the big moon eyes? Who’s that girl with the upside down curls? If there is a time we need to think it’s now, but thinking is entirely too much work so we busy ourselves with tasks. Redundant tasks that require little to think about. Tap a pen tap a tap pour the beer and give a smile because they love the smiles. Rest is something we need but too much is no good we need just the right amount. Google-me-drids is that a thing? Who gets just the right amount? I’m either tired from too much or from not nearly enough. Twinkle-me-timbers my toes are cold or I’d be napping right now.
A friend of mine once told me that when we read a book by some author long dead, we sometimes feel as if we know them on a personal level, while when we read a book written by a friend, this makes us feel as if we’ve never truly known them. Truth is, there are a lot of aspects when it comes to understanding another person. Their work, their life, their habits, the people they surround themselves with. And every single one of them plays a part in shaping their art.
Today, we try to get a bit more insight into the minds of famous writers by visiting their bedrooms
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