I’ve stopped using dressers
My clothes are shoved into a trunk
I wear them wrinkled and uncoordinated
But I did my hair and painted my nails
that must balance it out in some way
-Saschia Johnson
Lilies
While the shaded lilies stand rigid
I under the sun thaw
Swaying with the wind
We rooted in the same soil
Drinking in the same nutrients
Me pounded by friction
Withered wilted until again I bloom
-Saschia Johnson
#30 Colorful Walls
I feel so spun up these words taste like wallpaper
The blank walls have turned colorful and talkative
they chatter and I chatter back
-Saschia Johnson
Jam Jars
There was this world
my escape
but the demand for my attention was too great
fantasies nudged me awake all hours
the picturesque garden and nipping faries
and the words
they poisoned my proper shapes
in such a fantastic way
in a way hope was made toxic
And so I tilled but not for long
my pride got the best of me
for the world was much too fertile
and I confused the growth
for the jars of jam I canned through the winter.
-Saschia Johnson
How Close
Two fingers a measure of how close
or how far I’m am from
checking this off as one more
unfinished assignment
-Saschia Johnson
Salt
❤ love this piece!
I am the restless ocean, you a tempest storm
churning our waters into a whirlwind of wants
plunging us into murky depths of desire
where we linger, and soon surrender
to that which our fates have conspired.
View original post 116 more words
Sad
Some whiskey in a glass
I want to drink it but my belly hurts
There’s world issues
And positive thoughts
Out there
But it just hurts to smile
Secrets or not
Quitting is nipping at my heels
Have a drink with me
Let me forget for moment
This up-hill battle
Only i won’t because
How can i with tears in my eyes.
-Saschia Johnson
not my business
is she black
no she’s
⊕ white
is she loved by any other
than
the one that’s love is pure
?
it holds her down
*it- a woman, not a companion
Because companions required the stuff she didn’t
have to give
she buried them
along with pure love
in a grave
*it held her down
while he pounded
while he finished
only to call the next| |morning and ask
How’d you like it?
She, a business woman
couldn’t say
“me too”
because maybe he
changed maybe she’s
wrong
She changed though
no longer
purely loved no longer
a virgin
Held down by
strength
Held down by- not
a companion
-Saschia Johnson
Painting Nature
Gold paint was left unopened beneath the microwave
Butter knife around the edges to release the magic
What shall I paint?
To My dismay the purple roses I planted for my grandmother
have turned pink
do they no longer honor her
Will they bloom again this spring?
Passed the roses are dandelions
passed the dandelions are dead leaves
left over from fall.
I tip the bucket and drizzle them gold again
golden leaves in the spring
discarded hedges
the ones off to the side where no one is supposed to look
I painted them.
And they glistened in this hidden place
dead leaves
discarded hedges
an exchange for boredom
-Saschia Johnson
This piece was inspired by Sculpture Grounds located in Old Lyme Connecticut.
Doors 5/10/2018
Jayne.press 