The House is Going Dizzy

The house is going dizzy
My hair looks like fire
As the milk spills on the floor
And the ants go marching one
By one crumb by crumb, by crumb.

An ax ta dent is waiting
As we flee the combat zone
And the sink is getting busy
We don’t need a microphone.

The house is going dizzy.
Too many butterflies in the attic
lady bugs fill the air
While my twirling dervishes have at it.

Yes the house is going dizzy
With this childish delight.
You may think we’re going crazy,
But this is just how we spend our night.

© 02-Oct-2008 Sonja J. Johnston

Poisoned

I am poisoned by your unforeseen fear of
some dreaded horror that lives inside you;
that keep you on some mysterious ledge.

My colors vanish along with various
Abilities to maintain self,
Relaying with conviction all that is
Part of who I need to be.

What I do for you is what I do to me.

The outcome of me helping someone
is now your dreaded monster to overcome,
So needless.

Through this waning moon
I pull my shell and sullen my energies.

That hero inside me shines only
In a quiet place of which seems to be
Constantly falling off the radar.

An eraser mark swirled at
the bottom of a cup.
Loose words drop
off in the distance.
Moment after moment,
Lost.

My paints reduced to Mono-tonal palate.



©-Sonja J Johnston 06-Oct-2008

Be That Bold

As we awaken to our tomorrows
From yesterday's perpetual sleep,
Life slowly becomes an enormous truth.
Alive in the same spirit with the echoes of youth.

It's not easy wading through this noisy sea;
being swept away and brought forth.
We keep our eyes wide open like the ever shifting sky.

It is our job to comfort others
as we search aboard this earthly shipwreck;
As we try to produce a shine
amidst the mutters
to what REALLY exists.

Our friends may be trapped,
but we are singing to them
in our dreams.

What we have built
can not save us, yet
what we create in our minds out of compassion
to those we haven't met
is the key to all truths.

It's time to practice
'Cause it's time to see
Freedom for the soul,
for the universal we.

Pass this on, to young and old
and give it right in this life.
Be that bold.

© 30 Sept 2008 Sonja J. Johnston

Assessment

I feel like words inside a book looking out of the eyes of the reader.
As the story develops, images unfold under red dark room lights.
We speak of our own destinies unknowingly.

The after-fire leaves smoke in our hair.
Ink flows out and is captured in a moment.
A glance in another.

Where is this place I keep dreaming?
Whose shoes are on the door?
Why is it here I keep returning?

How did we ever give up our souls at dawn
For the sake of meeting again?

Answered and unanswered through this life determined.
A moment here and there...


© Sonja J Phinney 17-Oct-2006

Dad at his Funeral

There is a line defining flicker

An impression in space.
In this state of grace,
an enlightened embrace
enters stage center.

I waltz in this moment,
elevated.

© 11-2008 Sonja J. Johnston (Dad's funeral)

Sourcing

I found the end to the reoccurring
Scene in my head once I found you
And made a connection to the mountains.

The seeking is like a chimney and
Our feet are warming.
Cold, bright rivers on the mountain
Signaling the next stance.

If we really knew the way,
We wouldn’t be here at all.
Blessings in the night.

I’m charged
We are charged
And we have found
The cord across
Our waters.

-SJP 12-Sep-2007

Crow Feathers

Inner quarrels darken as darkest crow feathers.
On such a glittering day as this,
feeling wounded and shielding.

Staunch and ancestral are the overtones,
A shadow of a memory moves.
A black and white faded glass image
of someone standing in the distance.

I was strayed from home after entrance.
My comfort ran from the cold touch of my fingertips
and quiet lips.
The wooded dreams enchanted that of mountains,
not of lilies still.
My flowers remained in the scent, not the texture and vision.

Beside me stands that warrior as I flit like a fairy around and
around penetrating the atmosphere.

His strong hands brace as he focuses on
the space between these words with
cherished definition as a comrade
in this faith that is I.

© -Sonja J Phinney 11-Feb-2008

PTSD And The Soldier

You look so handsome with your sane suit on.
No one can see the rage from here
or imagine the kiss from your simple country lips.

The jury dismisses the broken branches.
A smile and a handshake later
finds you wound up and broken down
in your work room.

Looking for a handle, a clasp,
something to hold onto
without association.

© Sonja J. Johnston 4-27-2008

Stretching Up

Stretching Up

Mender of hearts hear my spurrling arms flutter.
Fill my cup just a little.
Fur warmed

Uncork the bottle genii pearled.
Laugh nose to nose with me.
Find me long handed and shoulder winged.

A few drops light my cup.

-SJP 1986

Bedroom Spirits

Are you still entrapped as things turn from black to white?
The scent of flowers that seem to move from inactive to active in the white flakes of winter;
Set apart in the offset?

Descending in and out of their reality;
several years knowing neither birth nor ending...

Frosted windows provide a tranquil empty space
where we fixate our fingers.

Lights flicker to the past.
Jagged white tromping spirits
run up to the foot of the bed
in hopes of hearing
another bedtime story.

© 23-Jan-2008 Sonja J. Phinney

Wee See Inside

A galloping prance as suspicious as a
Court jester teasing at incoming visitors.
This child looks into the eyes of another and listens
For the colors.
Smells are finely registered.
Sifting away particulates.
Gems, succulent in taste,
Light penetrates through the vapors.

Eyes are as bright as lures in the snow
Find a box to hide their innermost
Inside.

-Sonja J Phinney © 27-Sep-2007