The poetry of Adam sucked into the cosmos imagined before it had a name These white eyes laced with fear guide her into the flame of God Her bloom leaves behind a rosie smear Yesterday a whore today a consecrated marriage never touched An unholy relic She’s my bride We venture into the unknown entwined -Saschia Johnson
Tag Archives: art
Wet books
Wet Books That smell of wet books and Chanel no 5 is no invitation There are no arms open stiff I freeze Under my soles is the threshold A cold door knob damp in my palm Dead echoes haunt from behind “Vanity!” they scream A million hands reaching to save me from their sins fingersContinue reading “Wet books”
Pushing
Some days I’m just pushing through one more day. Just adding one more piece to the pile of experience. Every piece counts. Keep compiling. Yet, I can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt from my minimal effort. -Saschia Johnson
Book Sniffer
Today I bought used books and sniffed each one before purchase. It’s silly I know but if they are moldy its makes my nose itch. And then I won’t read them. I’d rather pass up a moldy book than have a book that’s never read. -Saschia Johnson
Skin Show
I. I see the crevices where my mind has changed route Where the blood has stopped flowing and changed direction To kill off the illusion of rage and hypocrisy There’s a skin shed in the corner of the room no one speaks of it but me Who’s skin is that? Who was left so empty?Continue reading “Skin Show”
Pick me
Run away with me on second thought, leave No, wait stay Send me to your favorite places Around and about in search of you Must I sit here so solitary under the great blue moon left to think myself inside out
Deep Dive
The waves foam and fizzle Gulping seagulls Gulping Mortals Flying seagulls Drowning mortals To the Sea bottom they go Sea sponges and treasures Hidden by overgrown seaweed What is this place where I crackle and my skin bubbles -Saschia Johnson
Too much snow
There’s too much snow It’s to my knees and everything I need is hidden below I have to plant seeds, side the house and these gutters won’t clean themselves My days are spent salting and shoveling. Cringing from the snow that fell in my boot I liked it in the beginning I liked it duringContinue reading “Too much snow”
Bubble Bath
Bubble Bath The tub is full and the bubbles bobble on top My legs have adjusted but when the rest of me sinks in it burns. In the tub, I’m a lost soul venturing from the heavens to a five star hotel It is there I’m considered a holy whore with no divine gifts My wordsContinue reading “Bubble Bath”
Intellect
The words to save me are trapped inside my lungs. Yes, I have them, but my lack of intellect has shoved them into place. It’s not the intellect itself that I lack it’s the motivation to use it. Words words words they’re art. They’ve got meaning even without intellect. See. Who needs to think. -SaschiaContinue reading “Intellect”
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