Two Baby Girls

She dances while I sleep

And hiccups while I binge watch Netflix

She’s a part of me

One with me

Her sister is my closest friend and family.

She lights up my life with her smile

and makes me feel at home with her presence

Two baby girls to hug and love

to sing and dance with on the kitchen floor

I’m so proud

I’m so proud

-Saschia

Bubble Bath

Bubble Bathsoap-bubble-1983918_1280

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 words

they float in front of me popping the suds

And here I soak

without a clue and nothing to give

Here I sink

soggy as a sponge in the pits of the ocean

 

-Saschia Johnson

 

Frayed Ends

Frayed Endscassiopeia-a-11180_1280

And what,
dear children,
is the end of the world?

Is it when
a hydrogen bomb is triggered,
and flesh and concrete
and body and soul
are brought to nothingness by the fury
of a stillborn sun?

Is it when
the rich finally get tired
of carrying the poor on their backs
(or, conversely,
when the poor
feel likewise
about the rich)
and drag them bodily
against the nearest convenient wall
(you can see it now, can’t you,
aglow in an aura
of weathered newsreel)
and shove a Luger
straight between their eyes
and blow their brains out,

plink

splat,

like wooden ducks at a carnival shooting gallery?

Is it when
the march of progress
tears apart the land

and poisons the water
and fills the air
with smoke and mercury
and electromagnetic waves
that carry only noise
and boundless ignorance,

aided & abetted
by the zombie hordes
who don’t really have a clear idea
about much of anything
(except, you know,
that they were promised
a new season
of that hot new show
and they really hope they get it
because, like,
that shit is pretty awesome)?

Is it when
a good friend
writes you a letter –

oh let’s be real,
the friend writes you an email
or a text
or a tweet
because who the hell has time anymore –

but for the sake of argument,
a good friend
writes
you
a letter,

itemizing in detail
the exact reason why
he or she
will never speak to you again,
delineating the lines
that you
so carelessly
crossed,
and wishing you
a long and happy life
without the burden of their
continued presence?

Is it when

your car breaks down,
or your phone falls in the toilet,
or the dog poops on your new carpet,
or the other guy at the office
got that big account that you wanted,
or the cute piece at the bar
seems a lot more interested
in that hot blond than in
your particular charms,
or your significant whoever is
mad at you again
because you forgot to mow the lawn or
wash the dishes or
suck them off
like you promised to?

Or:

Is it when you see
your newborn child
for the first time,
when you hear him propose,
when you hear her say Yes,
when you earn that last diploma,
when you meet a new friend,
when you forgive an old friend
for the sin of being human,
when you laugh with a good joke,
when others laugh with your jokes,
when you move into your own space
for the first time,
when you get your first real paycheck,
when you learn something
you never imagined before,
when you help someone understand something
that you know,
when you build,
when you love,
when you live?

And what,
dear children,
is the difference
between an end
and a beginning?

Written by: Geoff Blanchette (use link to see his wordpress) a writer and actor based in Westerly, RI

globe-2300135_1280

The Mason

mason-2376325_1280

The Mason

He picked up a red brick

Brushed it off

and placed it on the wet cement.

He had sweat on his brow that

Drip dripped.

His overalls and long sleeve plaid shirt

Were a good choice that frigid morning

But mid-day it was 80 degrees under the sun.

He still stacked because if he didn’t nobody else would.

He spread the cement with a trowel

and placed another brushed brick.

With every stacked brick he gave it a tap.

That set it in place just right.

His back had an ache and his shin had a splint

but every brick tapped was one brick closer

To being complete.

 

-Saschia Johnson

Sleep, my friend

Sleep, my friendwoman-2714174_1280

I can’t keep my eyes open

The lids

they’re being pulled down by a crane

And the weightlessness of sleep washes over me like

waves

Some bigger than others

I want to skip all this creating and let my consciousness free in dreams

But I’m almost finished just a few more sentences

-Saschia Johnson

This is bad

This is badfantasy-2779926_1280

These critics tell me how this is bad

so bad

They cringe and shrivel and their fingers twitch horizontal

And I say, with the most innocent eyes I can conjure,

I like it this way I like it a mess

And rugged and the honesty that’s so pure it makes you cry

dirty sheets and pants damp with sweat

Don’t tell me my way is bad just because

You live by the way someone else wipes your ass.

 

-Saschia Johnson

Frayed Ends- Morality Collection

Frayed Endscassiopeia-a-11180_1280

And what,
dear children,
is the end of the world?

Is it when
a hydrogen bomb is triggered,
and flesh and concrete
and body and soul
are brought to nothingness by the fury
of a stillborn sun?

Is it when
the rich finally get tired
of carrying the poor on their backs
(or, conversely,
when the poor
feel likewise
about the rich)
and drag them bodily
against the nearest convenient wall
(you can see it now, can’t you,
aglow in an aura
of weathered newsreel)
and shove a Luger
straight between their eyes
and blow their brains out,

plink

splat,

like wooden ducks at a carnival shooting gallery?

Is it when
the march of progress
tears apart the land

and poisons the water
and fills the air
with smoke and mercury
and electromagnetic waves
that carry only noise
and boundless ignorance,

aided & abetted
by the zombie hordes
who don’t really have a clear idea
about much of anything
(except, you know,
that they were promised
a new season
of that hot new show
and they really hope they get it
because, like,
that shit is pretty awesome)?

Is it when
a good friend
writes you a letter –

oh let’s be real,
the friend writes you an email
or a text
or a tweet
because who the hell has time anymore –

but for the sake of argument,
a good friend
writes
you
a letter,

itemizing in detail
the exact reason why
he or she
will never speak to you again,
delineating the lines
that you
so carelessly
crossed,
and wishing you
a long and happy life
without the burden of their
continued presence?

Is it when

your car breaks down,
or your phone falls in the toilet,
or the dog poops on your new carpet,
or the other guy at the office
got that big account that you wanted,
or the cute piece at the bar
seems a lot more interested
in that hot blond than in
your particular charms,
or your significant whoever is
mad at you again
because you forgot to mow the lawn or
wash the dishes or
suck them off
like you promised to?

Or:

Is it when you see
your newborn child
for the first time,
when you hear him propose,
when you hear her say Yes,
when you earn that last diploma,
when you meet a new friend,
when you forgive an old friend
for the sin of being human,
when you laugh with a good joke,
when others laugh with your jokes,
when you move into your own space
for the first time,
when you get your first real paycheck,
when you learn something
you never imagined before,
when you help someone understand something
that you know,
when you build,
when you love,
when you live?

And what,
dear children,
is the difference
between an end
and a beginning?

Written by: Geoff Blanchette (use link to see his wordpress) a writer and actor based in Westerly, RI

globe-2300135_1280

Would you like to add your opinion? Instead of commenting on this post please write/create something to be shared with the community.

Placeholder Image

 

Wanna read more? Here’s another great piece in our Morality Collection, I Want It All by Geoff Blanchette