✨A Poem✨ I tried. I dragged myself through it. I put one foot in front of the other and then I stopped because the race was over. The prize was won, only I didn’t want the prize anymore. I knew exactly what I wanted; everything I had before I tried. Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson
Tag Archives: creative writing
Lazarus
✨A Poem✨ Inside the tomb of a sleeping man was evidence of something none of us had ever seen but we have felt the fire that burns us from the inside and lifts our old bones from the stone ready to breathe a tummy full of air Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
Shoeprints
✨A Poem✨ The wiggling up my spine with a mind the shifts and alters before the checks and balances grounded footsteps toward peace or home or something I have yet to name Day by day feels like only a day away but it feels like consistency too Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
It Wasn’t Me
✨A Poem✨ The world turns upside-down sometimes and shakes those loose coins from your back pocket. Maybe they were weighing you down or you owed them somewhere. Maybe the whole floor-to-ceiling thing is favor. Could be a favor for you. Some people like to shake things up a bit. I’m not one of those people.Continue reading “It Wasn’t Me”
A Song
✨A Poem✨ Gentleness danced with me today The gift of life pounded in my chest like the words of a poet lost too soon What is this gentle life that calls me? Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson
This is Life
✨A Poem✨ I tasted life today with my entire tongue and sank into the seat I placed under the sun I didn’t crave the moon but it came any way. Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson
Reconcile
✨A Poem✨ Poof! Feathers danced in the wind a celebration of darkness or is it light? It’s home. Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
Neck
✨💫A Poem💫✨ Here we stand together wrapped between sheets lips to lips with words between kisses hoping we get this right only thing is we can’t get this wrong because this is living this is life. Hang on tight. Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson
James Joyce Haunts Me
✨A Poem ✨ James Joyce haunts me on the back porch. I pinch myself. He joins my dreams and grasps my hand letting me know I’m not alone in this world I built of words. Could have been someone else, any other writer, any other professor of life, and maybe it was, but I sawContinue reading “James Joyce Haunts Me”
The Mid Day Muse
✨A Poem✨ In a dark room a wooden table held a scroll that unrolled to reveal nothing but two dotted lines. No one could read it. No one was signing. The show still went on. The scrolls wrapped round and round them anyway Some might call it a scroll cocoon. Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson
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