Circe

Standing side by side
As the water lapped at our sandals-
We wondered whose  voices
Rang out
From the bottom of the sea.
False whispers
Rolled across the waves
Urging us near.
The ghostly calls
Echoed in my heart,
goodbye.
To this day, I wonder why
You felt it necessary
To find the source of those voices-
Those wicked Sirens,
Who lured you from my arms
With one word from their lips,
Abandoning me on shore,
Waiting
To die.

The boy watches from
behind the window pane
just beyond
the rest of the world
He stares a frigid hole in the glass as the other boys
Romp and ramble below
In a tussle over a leather-skinned sacrament
He walks to his altar
Sitting in front of the glowing monolith
He awaits patiently  the sermon
Of alien tones across  telephone lines.
He sighs as pixelized half-truths
Scroll across his eyes
And roll out into space.

I stare into his
Topaz blue eyes
And I drift back to
mink neck wraps
And strings of pearls,
Of living in a marble castle
Of cute catering boys
And a queen's portion of
Ambrosia every night...

I am startled back with the
Groan of an old accordion and a warped song

I clutch
Him to my breast
And plead with him
To suck
The lost dreams
From my body
So he may walk the halls of my castle
Before the dust starts to settle
And the strings of pearls lose their luster

I know they are still buried
Inside me...

Somewhere...

Oracle
You are
I am
Ashamed
To admit
I have fallen
Embittered
I am
Unloved
I grew hard
And bitter
And I spoiled
In my jug
And curdled.
Trapped
And alone.
Claustrophobia
Struck me wild
Suffocating.
I drowned
My pain
In shameful ways
Without thinking
I let my lost heart
Lead the way
To your door.
My eyes
So accustomed to darkness
Were too blind
To stare your love
In the eyess...
I am sorry
You cast me out.

we are so quick
to seek shelter
and hide
in the shadows
of the sun
we fear
what we do not see
and accept
what we can not hear
but doesn't it make sense
to bathe in the sunlight
and let our love be seen,
rather than shiver in the dark
dirty and unclean?

I try my best
To be
All these...
Things...

I want to listen
Talk
Breathe
Cry

I want to be someone
Measureable
Beyond mere numbers
And grades
Someone you will want to remember
Someone who has touched you
Someone who means something

I try my best
To be
A friend
Yet I feel like a third party
Looking in on your life
Wanting to help you
But there are too many other voices
You cannot hear my whisper

I've never been these things
I've been a friend,
But not a confidante
I've been in love,
But not a lover.
I've been content,
But not happy.

I hear you've been doing well
I just wish you liked me
Enough
To tell me that
With your own words
I miss how they feel
On my ears

Well,
At least
I tried to feel them

I stand at my window
Staring in at the alien world
Outside
Longing to be there
Amongst the light
Holding your hand.
My sole bleeds into the linoleum
I wish that you could see me
Staring out at your cherub face
My tears burn holes in my skin
As I take a big bite out of pain
And I chew
And I chew
But still theres these thoughts
Of You...

Brick tile
Glossy slick

Awaits
the footfalls
Of gift-laden guests

Chalky odor of fresh paint
Swirls in rhythm
With freshly mowed grass

Victorian furniture
Stands guard
Watching my parents silently toil

Above us a spiderweb of twine
Criss-crosses with
Reds and blues stuffed with helium

E.T. points towards the moon
Spread out against the wall
As Little Boy Blue smiles
through a picture frame...

Footsteps bang up the stairs
A mob of friends pours through the door
It is my tenth birthday

My niece flops onto the bed
Pigtails bobbing
Grubby hands clawing at my packages

Confetti
Scatters with
Surprises beneath every bow
 

Castle Grayskull.  Snake Mountain.
A village of toy plastic
Towers above the tile floor

After the fun is unwrapped,
The hour hand
Brings a death knell to laughter

Voices fall silent
Leaving E.T.
and Little Boy Blue alone.

I said a prayer
For you tonight
Just before the tears
Washed me away
You remain pressed into
My golden cast soul
Safe from the
Corrosion of time
Night after night
I return to our
Thicket
Where I can
Recite my mantra
Until the cricket songs
Drown out
Your name.

as I crunched through
shards of shattered lives
crackling sorrow
beneath my feet
I saw her
sitting there
beside her burnt-out home
not a tear leapt from her face
not a thought raced in her mind
she sat there
a zombie of war
beside her dead parents
their charred bodies
never escaped the fire
the fury the fate
of that dark awful night
dirty soot
like organic shadows
clouds her white face
and hides her soft lips
I grieve myself to shock
as I try to grasp
what she must have
been thinking
as they came to
kill her people
for her sake
I can never forgive
and she will never forget
that dark awful night
when she became
a child of the night

I pause
Before the flicker of
Black and red
Lights up
Heaven's underbelly.
All around us
Pristina suffers
Charred and black
Under a downpour of fire
And a parade
Of Serbian soldiers.
My glassy eyes
Strain to focus
On the wax face
Of my wife
As she stares back
Behind us.
I half expect her
To crumble into salt.
Our baby son
Still clings to her
Frozen
In his two day sleep.
She doesn't notice.
I take her arm
And nudge her along.
The chorus of wails and moans
Ceases as if in intermission.
This is no place for tears.
I hear something else
Off the road, just to my right,
In a emerald bush, a blue bird
Feeds her newly hatched chicks
With a fat earthworm.
I kick the nest
And smile as
A crunch of tiny bones
Replaces the birds' song.
I trudge onward.

Do you hear it?
The footfalls
Of a soldier
Marching
Into battle...

It is a soldier
Who could slash
The feet off a
Crying child
And feast on her
flesh.

Dried blood
Is a badge of honor
On his chest
His dagger pushes
Into your skin
And forces you along
On a death march.

The sharp point
Of the blade
Drives you onward

Without ever
Speaking a word
He tells us his name.
His name is eternal
His name is
Time.

Eighteen blows
And Satan's angels
Stole another life tonight
Their crimson wine
Of hate intoxicates
Two more minds

Eighteen hours
And his life is found
Strapped to a fence
Like a martyred Christ

Eighteen angels
Shield thy eyes
From the devil's scripture
Imprinted on banners
Outside the Laramie courthouse

They never meant it that way
But Matt Shepard died
As Christ died-
A beaten, scorned man
Face covered from blood
And stained from tears

Eighteen blows
is all it takes.

JOSHUA
By Daniel Johnson

My miracle worker
Wrapped
In dirty linen
I know you
Are sorry
Your eyes
Sing somber
Your lips
See regret
I would do anything
Anything at all
To have you here again.
I'd sweep up the stars
In a dustpan
And throw them to the wind
Scattering across
Eternity
They cannot bother us
Anymore
I'd knock the sun
Out of orbit
So this night
May never end
I'd do anything
Anything at all
For you-
My miracle worker

Sometimes
I can hear the sounds
Of flowers
Bursting into bloom.
I wonder
About why
They sound so joyful.

Sometimes
I can hear the sounds
Of your eyelashes
Beating against
The wind
I wonder
Why I can't look you in the eye.

Sometimes
Your eyes
Trap me
And I cannot escape the black hole
In the center of your gaze.
I drown trying to escape.

Sometimes
I can hear the sound
Of your heart
Beating inside your chest.
I wonder
Why you never
Let me touch you there.

Sometimes
I can hear the sound
Of trees laughing at the sun.
I wonder
About why
You and I can't be in love.

Sometimes
I...
Never mind...
I just wonder
Sometimes...

Unrequited
By Daniel Johnson
 

Pinpricks all over my heart
Gush out my love, staining my hands
I lash myself for ever falling for you
I can't wash away this reflection of you
That sticks to my body and soils my thoughts
I scrub and I scrape
But it only makes you shine brighter
I can't get you out of my chest-
My cancer-
Incurable,
Unrequited,
Wasted.

A rose means so much to me.
Since I was a child,
The color red has been my badge.
Never far from mine eye
Was painted a portrait in red.
Rose petal love
Dappled in
Fantasy.
The blood of Mars
And the fire of Venus
Swirl together inside my heart.
Red luster love
Surrounds me.
The passion of the rose
Lives within me.
Here,
I give you my friendship rose
Take it with you wherever you go.
Never forget me,
The counsel of rubyred tears
And crimson kisses.
Keep forever this banner of my love
Close to your heart
And love me no less.
 

I see my reflection inside of you.
Our souls are twins.
Our hearts are one.
Can't you see it?

As I step towards your body
I can feel myself swelling inside your mind.
I see no point
In trying to hide it
I am a part of you.
You are dwelling within me.

Bicerebral consciousness
Binds us together as one.
Psychotronic gravity
Holds me hostage in your orbit.

When I am around you
I feel I am your partner
In a dance
Of trick mirrors.
I cannot see where you are,
But I feel your heart beating
Inside of my chest.

Don't chip the glass
Let it have its way.
I enjoy looking at you
And myself in this way.

Flow with the music
Let the dance begin.

down

by Daniel Johsnon
 

i am feeling
something
today
for a change
a twinge
of pain
is welcomed
with tears
of joy
i thought
i could feel
nothing
not a nerve
in my skin
spoke
until you said
"i don't love you"
then they
awakened
from their
wintry hibernation
and began
to stretch
and squirm
inside of me
my heart
now
beats

I am only a funeral parlor
Empty and deathly alone
Silence fills me
Flows through me
Formaldihide
Mummifying the pain
Preserving my helplessness
Driving everyone away
From the stench of rotting flesh

Giant yellow spiders
Crawling through the smoke
Amongst a web of steel
Carefully
Tending to the silk
Their arms rising
Falling
Rising
Falling
Climbing up and over
The mountain of dirt
And dust
And smoke
Are they searching for flies
For prey
For food
For death?
Or are they trying
To free the trapped
From this web of steel
Their arms rise
Their arms fall
The giant yellow spiders
Crawl through the smoke

Patchwork
by Daniel Johnson

Frail woman
sitting silent
knitting
patchworks of memories

Outside
the window pane
liquid bombs
splash into the earth
streets gushing
as the skies shake
Lightning splits
the murky lake sky
with hellfire
and the winds
arm wrestle
with power lines

Inside the house
the frail woman
rocks in her chair
listening
to frantic raindrops
tapping
pleading to be let in

Outside
the wise old oak tree
tattooed with a heart
and the time-honored words
"Joe Loves Kathleen"
Splinters
and topples
its bones shattered
A monument
to memories
now a martyr
to natures wrath

Inside
her bones wrinkle
arthritis
grips her sewing hand
holding her tight
stubbornly
she needles away
mending the fabric
to its end

Outside
the storm plays
the window pane
smiles through her gums
in a frail voice
she speaks
to the wise old oak tree
spread with arms to its side
motionless on the grass
Whispering
softly
"What a beautiful day"
She smiles
"Don't you think so, Joe?"
She nods to a empty corner

The rocking chair
rocks silently
as if in agreement
its empty space watches
as the frail woman
goes back to her task
knitting
croqueting
a patch work of memories

Its safe in here
expansive hallways of silicon and glass
your doorway is your monitor
your parkway is your modem
lose your identity
today

Ive seen you before
somewhere
I think
On a chat line,
in some far off place

Forget about your name
What did you say your screenname was?
Do you go by your AOL name or your email address?

Do you remember the days when people
would look at us and cross their eyes
like we were foreign species
when we used to LOL and LMAO?

Yes.
Its safe in here
Safe and warm
Snug and secure
inside our cyberspace

Ghosts and shadows
shiver through the walls
darkness oozes and covers the house
like molasses
a dreadful syrup of sorrow
death has retreated
deep inside here
enshelled within the breathing walls
the floorboards are spongy
with crimson puddles
the building churns with a maddening fever
a carpet of snow
is painted with fingerprints
as the skeletal kings sit
on their blood thrones

You are my companion
My forbidden fruit
so red
so supple
so ripe
sweet to the taste
smooth to the touch
why must we
hide amongst these trees
when we should be
undressed
and dancing
entwined
inside each other

LAYERS
by Daniel Johnson

PEEL BACK THE LAYERS
OF MY SKIN
WHAT DO YOU SEE
SHIMMERING
BEHIND MY RIND?
SECRETS
BLOODY SECRETS
HERE IS A LAYER
SHY AWKWARDNESS
FLIRTIOUSLY SMILES
FROM BEHIND A QUAKING HEART
ANOTHER LAYER
ANGRY VIGILANTE
WITH FIERY RAGE
WITH BRIMSTONE BOILING INSIDE
ANOTHER LAYER
A PEACEFUL ANGEL
WITH WINTRY WINGS
FLUTTERS AROUND THE VEINS
AND SPRINKLES
FAIRY DUST
INTO THE WEARY SOUL
LAYER AFTER LAYER
EXPOSED
VULNERABLE
RABID
ENRAGED

i have a fortress spirit
no eyes shall ever peer into my soul
when my fortress spirit is on call
he perches upon my soul with pride
and watches me over with piercing eyes
a shimmering broach of agate shield
wards away the demon guild
beware the wrath of my ambling fortress spirit guide
and he ambles his way far and wide
no walls no borders
can block his path
no enemy no foe
can withstand the wrath
so be careful with my heart
you see,
i have a fortress spirit standing guard over me.

My shadow,
a fetus
in a dark corner
bending into himself.
I am tired
of luring him out
to go tiptoeing
across the underbelly of nightfall
beyond my mother's
million eyes
to disco the hours away.
only to slither
back into myself
drunk at dawn.
For years I turned my eye
from his cross-dressing
and laissez-faire lifestyle.
Now he whispers not a word,
but curls up there
deep inside of me.

(Note: No I don't cross dress.  My professor just required something there and I was running out of ideas.)

(Note: Disturbingly, on Treesquirrel.com I had a poll up once that asked everyone what their favorite poem was.  Frighteningly enough ,everyone liked this poem better than any of my others - even my love poems.  And strangely, no one ever asked me what the meaning of this poem was - but to be sure this poem is not an actual daydream I've ever had.  The professor required a "shock" poem, and everyone was writing about being raped  - and no, none of them were really raped in real life - so to set myself apart I wrote this poem.)

(Note:   Yes a lot of my poems have titles that come from books of the Bible.  I have one poem for every book of the Bible - usually they are love poems.  But most of them are too long to put online.)

The perfect man
is he who realizes
he is not
and is ok with it

Unbridled
by the past
we rode
on the wind
across rainbows
and through clouds
until we came
to rest
here
inside a picture frame

Mangled
by Daniel Johnson
 
I am
Mangled
Twisted
I am
Wreckage
You hit me
Without warning
Broadsided me
Rearranged everything
Tore it out of place
Scattered my bits
To the winds
Of time
You came.
You went.
You left me.
Mangled.