The sidewalk slips sideways a neon yellow dandelion falls roots toward the sky and lands in the curve of my curl The shift is only a slight one but enough to remind me that I am alive. -Saschia *Jayne* Johnson
Tag Archives: poem
At the Stroke of Midnight
A minute too late is still too late. The veil drops behind my eyes as I drift away into some world other than my own. it’s a strange life to live -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
This is My Life Too. This is Your Life Too.
The breath inside these lungs, my first gift Your curious eyes searched for something familiar but it wasn’t something you saw. It was something you felt. The warmth the rhythm of life Seeing wasn’t believing feeling was. -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson Let’s Get Connected!
Above Ground
wooden slabs nailed to hold me above ground beneath em a jungle thriving and peaking around the edges. It’s not the end of the plank I need, it’s the middle -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
Curious Eyes
Under a blanket of stars the world awaits something new, improved, unused. Forgetting about the craft created with intention knitted from threads passed down from a stranger into the same hands that belong to curious eyes. -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson
The Wreckage
Damp blades of grass and a wreckage brought to the surface from the raging seas some things are left in the depths and never again seen but this wreckage rose to the surface and was laid out bare splintered across the sand. -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson Let’s Get Connected!
The Buzz of Life
The light buzzes behind my 🐝 eyelids that weigh more 🐝 than the ad offers. 🐝 An accumulation of information 🐝 only to get lost somewhere 🐝 inside a mind that stretches 🐝 across the universe. 🐝 Do I float to retrieve it 🐝 or let it go? -Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson Let’s Get Connected!
Our Goods are Our Dreams and Our Dreams are Our Goods
sweet berries buried far beneath the stones that feel immovable with one’s own strength confuse confound conflate To each’s own a treasure’s known so let our wild spirits roam -Saschia Jayne Johnson
Contentment
You rolled off my sacred tongue and into some place. where there’s few passing cars and trees lots of trees. Who am I to find you where you are? What am I to do when I seek you? I’m content in the comfort of my own writing chair illuminated by the words scrolling across theContinue reading “Contentment”
My Romance with Writing
It’s not just some lover who came and left me empty standing at the edge of the world. It’s something else entirely. My romance is a mystery cloaked with a veil, an obsession that’s never satiated, and a string of words that must kiss the lips of my imagination or no one will ever knowContinue reading “My Romance with Writing”
