tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51051690017404794252024-03-29T01:45:46.392+00:00Vixie's storiesWriting, poetry, interviews, book reviews, giveaways and rambles
vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.comBlogger1210125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-29138069714949993172024-03-29T01:36:00.006+00:002024-03-29T01:45:14.604+00:00A Poem a Day (627): PTSD<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Another 10-minute poem. Now I'm off to bed. Happy Easter.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;">PTSD</span><br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here, in this box,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we seek to be who we are,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">who we were, trying to </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">figure <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;">a way to reconcile the two.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are not who we were<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">since that day etched on the calendar,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the dark day. The day of taking.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The never returning.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Why were we allowed to leave?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I tried to sleep and I was woken.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I felt free, yet I was in chains.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I was questioned things that made no sense.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And I remember blood-red fingernails.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I wanted to sleep. I wanted to go home.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I wanted to feel safe. I wanted my heart to be still.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I wanted someone to tell me what was happening.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Silence.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I feared this not knowing, this going on<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">without knowing, this enmity.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You took everything from me while I slept.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You pushed me down into the rust.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You laughed, called me a piece of shit<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">while you watched me shake.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Imagine someone did this to your daughter.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You took my life.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You took my reputation.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You took my safety.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You stole me.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You watched me shake.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You watched me try to live.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You watched me try to recover.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You watched me try to eat,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">When I felt sick.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You watched me try to remember,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">not wanting me to remember,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">you watched me try to continue,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">you watched me try to be everything I was,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">knowing you took it from me,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">knowing I could not be that person again.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Because you crushed me,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">because you could.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Vickie Johnstone, March 29, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-1913262935675188852024-03-29T01:10:00.000+00:002024-03-29T01:10:05.892+00:00A Poem a Day (626): The seeker<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I just watched a cool film, kinda romantic, set in Ireland, drinking a few glasses of Spanish red wine. Before the film finished, I started thinking about light, and all these different variations of light, and then I opened my laptop and wrote this. It was 12.51 am, which is a bit late to write a poem, but I put on some of my favourite music by one of my favourite bands, My Sleeping Karma, and I felt inspired, and I wrote this, clicked off at 1.02 am and posted it. It is what you make of it. I hope you have a gorgeous Easter. Stay in the light.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;"><br /></span></b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">The
seeker</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">This
light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this clear,
white light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">a distillation,
recognition.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We look
straight through,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">reconcile
who we are, this happening,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this
circle round, this halo, this…<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">It is
what we have become,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this fleck
of bluest blue,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this hollow
tide full-turning wide,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this pure
incandescent true.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">This
seeping through<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">of pure white
light.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We are this
purge,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this left
of being,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this turning
over of becoming,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">inside
out to inside in.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">A light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">an even
through,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this being
true<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">when even
bereft of light.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We are
as we seek,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this being
as we were meant to be.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">In this
light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this neverending
rhythm,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this truth,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this being,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this art,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">this
light.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright
Vickie Johnstone, March 29, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-58868663722236934592024-03-08T13:05:00.010+00:002024-03-08T13:12:22.930+00:00A Poem a Day (625): The room with a view<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>The room
with a view<br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
hinges creak open,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">a single
gust of stalest air,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">unencumbered
presences.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">A single
candle, unlit,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">upturned
book, spine rigid,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">black
pen devoid of ink.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Porcelain
cup, etched deep,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">liquid seeps
in a tie-dye ring,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">teaspoon
perched wounded.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The half-drawn
curtain sways,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">sucked
out by the wind,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">lace nets
blown in rhythm.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Upon the
bed an open letter,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">read once
and abandoned.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">On the
pillow a white, white rose.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /> </span></span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 4 (draft 1), March 8 (draft 2) 2024</i></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Poetry, poem, apoemaday</i></span></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-60135981804498353492024-02-28T15:19:00.007+00:002024-02-28T15:19:38.712+00:00A Poem a Day (624): Light notes<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Light notes<br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Light after rain,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a calling card,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">lingers in the crevices,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the gaps, this after-song<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">to water, hope lifted.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Pale sky, bluest eggshell,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">white wisps drift, blow freely,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">write words out of captivity<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in a burst lasting seconds,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">brush the sun into distance.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">High on wet tiles, a seagull<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">sculpted, zip-suited white,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">wings tightly in, grey pants,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">keen eye. He is your lookout,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">can play the peacock for hours.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Clouds scurry to wait for you,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">patient on the horizon, a note,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a promise that can’t be touched.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Night yearns, locked, drowned out<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">by this incandescent rain.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Vickie Johnstone, February 27-28, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-8971894315630380902024-02-26T13:29:00.001+00:002024-02-26T13:29:23.221+00:00A Poem a Day (623): Drift<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">Drift</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We drift,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as wood, motionless,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">emotion full, tidal strength.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A meander of means,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">an escape into the body<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">peeled off, layer by layer.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here is ebb,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">here is flow.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Water, without will,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">where there is light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">silver magic weave.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And we are spun,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">enravelled, unravelled,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">one motion.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Adrift.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 26, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-218133693431250482024-02-25T18:17:00.008+00:002024-02-25T18:17:50.146+00:00A Poem a Day (622): Kicking the can<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"> <br /></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;">Kicking the can</span><br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">They build fences, paint them ivory white,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">staple them together, immobile bodies,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">built thus high so they cannot fall.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You can’t pass either. Clearly, <i>No Entry</i>.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">There are silences doomed to win,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the self-created, the unwitnessed,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">those generated by the masses, disgorged.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We plan a life in man-made widgets.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The can opens, jagged-edged teeth.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Globules of pop drip, accumulate,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and you wonder why you opened it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Was it to drink or to learn something?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Did the recipe change or is it still medicinal,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a sustenance for our woes, to bathe them?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The secret ingredient used to be cocaine,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">some say. Did you get it on prescription?<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We clench the light in fist, in a bracket,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">shut it away from all these prying faces.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">They don’t want it to escape, to wander,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in case someone shows what it really is.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">All these heartfelt promises, they fade away,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and so they hide the light in brackets.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">They may even dig a hole and sink it,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">shun completely, so it can never breathe.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">One day.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 22, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-83122129641899944882024-02-22T21:49:00.003+00:002024-02-22T21:49:18.112+00:00A Poem a Day (621): The dappled horse<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>The dappled horse (a blues poem)<br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Long legs set deep in the mud, saddleless, he stands
still,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">stares straight ahead, legs in the mud so deep, so quietly
still.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">He raises neither head nor tail, a dappled statue on
the hill.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Two shire horses sweep their tails, peek through the foliage,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">ivy framing the two fellows, finding gaps in the foliage,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">they neither bother nor notice the solitary fellow on
edge.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">He has a story to tell, this old nag with the worn-out
bones.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">When the children come calling, he feels them deep in his
bones,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">forgets the time in the shivering snow when no one
heard his groans.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Back on the Old Man’s farm, he’d be left in the yard,
tied to a tree.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">He never went beyond that farm, shackled as he was to that
tree.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">When the Old Man died, he took a while to realise he
was free.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Now he stands still in the same spot in the midst of this
open field,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">just because he doesn’t have to stand in this spot in
this open field,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">but this is where he chooses to stand, deep in the
mud, now he’s wild. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 22, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-53897311653156282822024-02-17T00:44:00.000+00:002024-02-17T00:44:01.013+00:00A Poem a Day (620): For Leland Hermit<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">For Leland</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We enter the silence of never forgetting,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">listen to the murmurations of a lost few<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">spiralling high in this languid, shivering air,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the cirrus strewn like white cotton sheets.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here, we contemplate the misty curve of morn<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">rousing life out of night, our shadows lengthening,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">teasing us that they know the way. But only we know.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">This is where nature absorbs us, draws us in.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I watch you scatter, track nature’s scents from miles
off,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a skill I can only dream of. An emerald lizard darts.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You ferret deep into the spiky undergrowth,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">digging down this dry desert, coming up twigs.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">These trails we spirit down take me back some days,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">hiking past our guards, these purple-blue mountains,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">jagged peaks fogged out, streams of misted white light,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and without a care we pass by the ghosts of yesterday.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Low hums catch on the drafts, silk petals turn sunward.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Our paths never cross with any other human being.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">This is a kind of freedom, this sweet eclipsing<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">of the glass-brick-grey city with its petrol choke,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And in this yellow, green, sienna-dusted viesta<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we walk as one, legs bumping legs bumping legs,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">our breath blowing clouds to mix in the air,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as if we are a doodled, made-up faery creature.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">As high as we are, the opening skies seem lower,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as if seeking to reach down to bathe our heads.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Absent, we traipse this stone-worn curl of path,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">knowing by heart its myriad twisted ways.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the end, you inevitably take the onward lead,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as though you are the parent and I am the child,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">protecting me. You wag your tail and turn your head,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">beckon me to follow as far as we can see.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 16/17, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-23847614653600982862024-02-11T23:20:00.005+00:002024-02-12T00:02:24.434+00:00A Poem a Day (619): The garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ThekcZO9-nvoBb4YPYbr3zstkmPEXfg9aRFCpGDp2Hh0DSSlBjXGr_Lz-SkE297nK5i25QeKNwjYUsbD9MyXijm8bbMarytsE6jG3RZSyYBuWN-4ukZmIPMvJo6LVvmThpAnhmQV7xulQ3RQybJygVbTAhYz0IpUrlleMAOPfdSvHZoxE4r4LuLZsKQr/s1536/two%20forms.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1152" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ThekcZO9-nvoBb4YPYbr3zstkmPEXfg9aRFCpGDp2Hh0DSSlBjXGr_Lz-SkE297nK5i25QeKNwjYUsbD9MyXijm8bbMarytsE6jG3RZSyYBuWN-4ukZmIPMvJo6LVvmThpAnhmQV7xulQ3RQybJygVbTAhYz0IpUrlleMAOPfdSvHZoxE4r4LuLZsKQr/s320/two%20forms.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;">The garden</span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="background: white; color: #313131; letter-spacing: 0.1pt;"><i style="font-family: times;">‘Finding Trewyn
Studio was a sort of magic. Here was a studio, a yard
and garden where I could work in open air and space’</i><span style="font-family: Goudy Old Style, serif;"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: times;">– Barbara
Hepworth</span></i></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">‘A sort of magic’ is unearthed,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">here, in this space, this embryonic bed,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a studio of colour birthed in energy,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">art that explodes in wild, myriad furore.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We step inside crimson shape & etched form,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a bold green of ever blue, speak of the intangible,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">will it to form in our hands what only we can feel.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Carvations of sleek limbs and solid blocks.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">As the closed wings of a bird, <i>Two Forms</i>,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">parallel eyes juxtaposed, poised opposite.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">One peers out, the other examines within.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The wider seems to fix us in irony.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">These seeking eyes fear to frame the world.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We step out in order to step in,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">reside inside the outside of ourselves,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">where we are as we never were.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Metal reimagines us in stasis, eternal action,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and here we are, deepest inside, turned.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Our reflections blossom within these other eyes,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">big, bold expressions we have only yearned.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Lines within curves, intricate mazes repaved,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">scooping out holes to show what is not there,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">shaping the invisible, holding it in awe.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">These ever-opening chasms seek order,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">where our echo loses repetition, perforates,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and escapes to become something new.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Redrawn, we attempt to paper the gaps,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the pits, the flaws, the empty sides.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In this complete circle we exist as we stand,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">formed out of cold stone, yet malleable,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">exuding warmth, reinventing a sub-time,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">our walls disappearing in shared energy.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We plant hardy roots into the snug earth,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">bury our feet, so verdant, into the dirt,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">absorbing Mother Earth into us,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and inside us she opens up her heart.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Streaks of silver half-light will shield us,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">our worn hides, from time external,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">all the losses, the weathered storms.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">It offers this distilled, knowing glow,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">bestowed in love, reinvention and peace.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And ‘a sort of magic’ brings us out.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 11, 2024</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-30795346793763076522024-01-06T20:23:00.006+00:002024-02-14T11:06:46.059+00:00A Poem a Day (618): 48 years<p style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: times; padding: 0cm;">Glynn Simmons, aged 70, </span><span style="font-family: times;">was released from prison in July 2023. In December, he was declared innocent in the 1974 murder of Carolyn Sue Rogers. His is the longest-known wrongful conviction in the US.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">According to Wikipedia, by February 2020, a total of
2,551 exonerations were mentioned in the <span style="text-decoration-line: none;">National Registry of
Exonerations</span> in the US. The total time spent by these exonerated
people in prison adds up to 22,540 years. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">As of January 2020, the Innocence Project has documented more
than <span class="s1"><span style="text-decoration-line: none;">375 DNA
exonerations </span></span>in the US. Twenty-one of these
exonerees had been sentenced to death. <span style="text-decoration-line: none;">The National Registry of Exonerations</span> is
a public database that records all exonerations in the US since 1989, including
cases in which DNA played a limited or no role. In January 2020, the database
contained more than <span style="text-decoration-line: none;">3,300 cases</span>. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>48 years (a ghazal)</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Incarceration...</i></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">How
would you feel if you won the day, your freedom,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">knowing a
cold white injustice stole away that freedom?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Uncomfortable
are the seconds stretched long, nowhere to hide<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">in the void
between hours where you pay for the guilty’s freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
wronged speak from the same page, made silent, voiceless,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">step
inside themselves, knowing the state did slay their freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">There’s this
physical cage and the one you build in your mind,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">the one
that tries to stop you breaking as you pray for freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">You line
your walls with photographs, memories and people, <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">to warm
you on these icy nights you cry weary for your freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">There’s
a man who whistles each and every morning that he rises,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">full of
hope til nighttime strangles this poor grey semblance of freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">These steel
bars can play a chord, tap a song, without dance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">This
numbness devoid of motion makes us clay without freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We wait
in line, a queue with no end, our misery a silent hum. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We are
not who we were when we could lay down in freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Pink dawn
throws light on our horizon, promises an ever-after,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">a tomorrow
when we can walk outside and feel okay, in freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>... and liberation
</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Someone
told a lie, ignored the facts, and they sentenced you,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">but you
always knew you’d be handed back one day your freedom.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">You drive
beneath the strewn-out stars, down to Tulsa, Oklahoma.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Seasons
change, but it feels the same, this sacred way of freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">It’s a view
you haven’t known for near five decades long,<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">but it’s
like yesterday, and you savour this sweet sway of freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Yours is
the longest-known wrong conviction in all America. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">And yours
was the longest-ever pathway back to freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">You know
they set you up and they paid no care about justice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">But this
Christmas you ate with family, no castaway from freedom.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The real
murderer, he’s still out there, I guess. He stayed silent.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">But today
you walk out high, walk proud this day in freedom. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;">Copyright Vickie Johnstone, January 6, 2024</span></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-57351594515258461452023-12-27T14:04:00.003+00:002024-02-11T23:13:18.013+00:00A Poem a Day (617): Woman paraded naked<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Woman
paraded naked<br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Stark headlines
tilt sideways, rip ragged,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">papers strewn
waste in the sharpening rain.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Letters slide,
seek a silenced escape,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">a way
out, an alternative way of being.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Dragged
out, stripped, paraded naked,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">tied to
a telegraph pole and beaten to a bruise.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">A mother.<i>
Red and blue. Red and blue. Red and blue.<br /><o:p></o:p></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Tears awash
in our rain. We hurtle through.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
rescue party, we arrive too late by hours,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">stand agape.
A simmer of men eye the spectacle,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">the debacle,
<i>the sex that causes such offence.<br /> <o:p></o:p></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">We are
the few who disagree.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Her only
son eloped before his wedding night,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">so someone
had to pay. <i>Someone female. The mother.<br /><o:p></o:p></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">She is <i>the
visible invisible</i>, now <i>safe,</i> blanketed,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">but trauma
digs at the contours of her face.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">It’s
4am. Someone blew the whistle.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">A police
officer who watched is suspended.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">In the
hospital, all is quiet. The walls bristle,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">heavy with
the weight of history. <i>Female souls.<br /><o:p></o:p></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">It
permeates the corrugated roof. We watch it sag.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The rain
sketches ever-increasing circles of light <i>years.<br /><o:p></o:p></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The mother
stares at the wall, seeks understanding,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">but it
stares back blankly. No words can explain.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">All this
water will never wash this foul shame away.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Her husband
insisted they had not known,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">their
son had kept this other love a secret, hidden.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">His
lover flew her own gilded cage by night.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">Outside,
the men still loiter in the soiled street,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">their uncorked
outrage clouding the void.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">The
crowd will have scattered by mid-morning,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">but history
has already chalked them in.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">This was
an ‘inhuman act’, the authorities said,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">gave the
mother land, part of this country owned by man.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">But this
land had turned on her in her hour of need.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;">It had not
forgiven her for being a woman.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 27, 2023</i></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b>I read
about this incident on the BBC News today. Here, I have pasted part of the article:</b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span style="font-family: times;">“Cases involving assault of
women are always under-reported because of shame. Families don’t come forward
because it’s a matter of honour and the system does not support the survivors
or give them a safe space to report these crimes,” says lawyer and rights
activist Sukriti Chauhan.<br /></span><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p><span style="font-family: times;">In the National Crime Records
Bureau database, disrobing is recorded under a broad description called “assault
with intent to outrage [a woman’s] modesty”, which clubs the crime with cases
of street harassment, sexual gestures, voyeurism and stalking. Last year,
83,344 such cases were recorded, with 85,300 affected women.<br /></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: times;"><i>Link to
story: <a href="https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-67769453">https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-india-67769453</a></i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-58225061612841506372023-12-11T10:00:00.002+00:002024-02-11T23:13:07.238+00:00A Poem a Day (616): The walk<p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>The walk </b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A cutting wind blows us in two,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">peels back the edge of a buttercup carpet.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Olive stalks sway, fan this sunbathed land.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We hold nature at arm’s length, picture it<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">through a cold lens, frame it, silence it<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">when it needs to yell out loud and be released.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Slide your bare feet through the warm mud,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">churning rivers between your toes. Sienna drips,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">seeps down this canvas; fuel for the soul,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a gathering, a grounding for the city type.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We flit between our own flimsy self-images,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">echoes of our childhood shadowed mirror-play.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Gnarly branches seek to press our stiff backs forward<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">down leafy, ground-out trails and grown-over mazes<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">into damp, mossy nooks and crooks of watery pearl,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">these crumbling granite walls so cool to our
fingertips.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Crows lift in a circling cloud and in the far view a
single tree<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">stands statue-still, sketched in hollow against the light.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;">Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 10, 2023</span></span></p>
<br /><p></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-78602008935004313952023-12-10T20:06:00.003+00:002023-12-10T20:06:18.299+00:00Little brainstorms (2-minute poems)<div><span style="font-family: times;">If you fancy writing some fiction or poetry, or reading other people's, head over to <a href="http://www.jdmader.com/2023/12/2-minutes-go_8.html">JD Mader's website</a>, 2minutesgo... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">Some little brainstorms... </span><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">1 THE MESSENGER</span><br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the gust<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">dust swells, panic caught,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">misses a cue in the line.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A tumbleweed plays,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">scrawls out your name<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in the dirt,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">leaves a memory<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">imprinted that neither one of us<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">wishes to recall.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">I watch it skirt the road,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">free, feeling it knows I’m right here,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">just waiting for it to leave.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;"><b>2 IN THE HOUR</b></span><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Wait on pause,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">take a trip,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">think it out,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">delay the plan,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">relate the way,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">time it completely wrong,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">say it in song,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">say it isn’t right.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">You can choose the date<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">or pretend to lose.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We fathom the night<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in the close of day.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">These are the hands<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">that wound the clock,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and clocking out,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">they forgot to pray.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">3 FREEFALL</span></b><br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">It’s a freefall,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">endless. We are inclined<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">to be as we ever were,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">without pretence,<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">No disguise.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">No more than three words.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are as the land wishes,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as the trees grieve,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as the ground breathes.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And nothing echoes aloud<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">except that which burned before,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">ever here,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">always now,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">despite the years<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">flown<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">by.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">4 MINDS</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the mind of the other<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we are one. As we might be,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as we might see, and be here,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">waiting, knowing, seeing,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">as calm as a blackbird.</span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">5 ELFIN FORESTS</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Elfin forests,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">crystal clear streams,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">an endless dream of being,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">where the twig-strewn ground breathes<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in summer’s sway, where our feet tread,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">sink into earth, just resting.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are breath. We are here. We be.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b> <br /></b></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">6 THE CATCH</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the unsung song we hear<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the passing of a thought, a treasured<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">heart, a memory. The thing that fell foul,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the betrayal, the slip, the echo<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">of the abject thing. The bird caught,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the tripwire; this endless rebegin.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And we are heard sliding.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here, there is no catch word,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">no rail, no mat.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are falling. And we are free.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">7 SINKING</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the morrow we will begin,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">counting numbers,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">drawing circles with our fingers.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">This sand sinks, scuppers,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">water fills. It’s a cue to bury it all,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">seal it over, never<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">to be found.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">8 THE ANCIENTS</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The ancients stand tall,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">stretch stone arms to the sky.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are small. Astounded.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Can only stare up at the moon,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">its sound rays crowning them,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the earth gathering dust.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">9 SERENADE</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;">A moonlight serenade<br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">without harp or drum,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">no voice, no harm, no motion.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Only quiet. And light. And devotion.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In this setting we are might,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we are ever, we are chosen.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Seated, the same. Just bones.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">10 THE APPLECART</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The applecart. Rocked. Smoked. Out.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The whodunnit. The mystery. <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Seeing all, he fans flames to the sky,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">listens, draws a picture, imagines ruin.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">It feeds it out, off the scale,<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">watches the burn.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">11 LIKE BATS</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Shadows mock the living,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">line the roads for the forgotten,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the lost, the fragmented.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">There once was water here.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Now there is an absence of it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Where there was flow all is still.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the moonlight, jagged bats flit,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">avoid the cage drawing near.</span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>12 REPEAT</b></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">Echoes.<br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In the walls.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Beneath sound.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Without a wakening.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">They wander out,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">forsaken.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">They wander in<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">with a newfound thing.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here is breath.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Without echo.</span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 10, 2023<br /></i></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><p>
</p><p><br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-11748708050339825352023-12-10T16:33:00.003+00:002023-12-10T16:34:36.707+00:00A four-letter word<p style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I first published this poem on here on March 31. It's an issue that should always be spoken about and never swept under the carpet. Men, women and children are raped or sexually assaulted every day - while you are reading this. Most people don't speak out. Most cases never get to a court room, and once they do, most do not end in a conviction. Around the world, the statistics are shocking (see below). Rape is also used as a weapon during war. It's all about taking a person's power away, and crushing and humiliating them, and depriving them of dignity. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-family: times;">A four-letter word</span></b></span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #616161;"><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></b></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">RAPE.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">A four-letter word.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">A small word, easy to ignore,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">easy to hide in the cracks in the system,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">too easy to look away from, skim over.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">The statistics tell us how it is:<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">one in four women,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">one in six children,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">one in eighteen men.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">About 70,633 reports in 2022,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">and that’s just in the UK.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">We’re talking </span>736 million women around the world.<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">I repeat: 736 million sometime in their lifetime.<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">Can we visualise that number?<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">Can you see all their individual faces?<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">The number of charges show how many victims<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">are being failed. The sheer number tells us<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">something is wrong – they’re not being heard.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">And these are the ones who spoke out,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">who were brave enough to say ‘this happened’.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Their voices are being lost on paper.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Education is needed. Protection is needed.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">People need to feel safer walking the streets,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">going to sleep under their own roof,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">just going about their daily lives.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Is that too much to ask?<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">I guess that’s too much to ask.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">A victim reporting a rape needs support,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">action and subsequent follow-up,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">not to be turned away, given excuses.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">A friend is still waiting, years later,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">yet they said he might be a serial offender.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">I wonder what he’s doing now.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">We reported a flasher once, as girls.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Followed us home, darted out from the bushes,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">he knew the direction we would take,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">waited for us and started to masturbate<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">right outside the door we were meant to enter.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Did he expect us to clap? We reported it,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">sat through an interview, and nothing.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">We wondered if he did anything worse.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">RAPE.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">A four-letter word.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">The most offensive four-letter word<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">in the English language – and you might<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">have thought I was gonna say c***.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">More cases need to arrive in court,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">more offenders should be brought to account,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">or rape becomes a way of life for some,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">a living prison for others. The perpetrators<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">go free, walk around, even do it again,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">leaving the victims hurt and afraid.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Even the word victim is wrong:<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">it removes all power from the person,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">places them in a position of weakness,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">steals their confidence and identity away –<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">they’re the person the crime was <i>done to<br /></i></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">when the offender had no right to do it.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Survivor is the better word:<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">the person who was strong enough to go on,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">who picked up all the scattered pieces<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">and tried to continue despite it all,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">even knowing nothing was being done<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">in this now more dangerous world.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">Some are too ashamed or scared to speak,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">thinking they will be blamed or disbelieved,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">better to be quiet, pretend it didn’t happen,<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">when it is the offender who should be ashamed.<br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">It’s time men and women stood up and said no, <br /></span></span><span style="font-family: times;">there is no place for rape in society.<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">Survivors need to join hands around the world,<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;">so their voices become the loudest argument heard.<br /></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><o:p> <br /></o:p></span></span><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, March 31, 2023</i></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><i><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></i></span></p><p style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"><i><br /></i></span></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span lang="EN-US"><b><span style="color: red; font-family: times;">The statistics </span></b></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">According to Rape Crisis, these are the statistics in the UK:<br /></span><span lang="EN-US">1 in 4 women have been raped or sexually assaulted as an adult;<br /></span><span lang="EN-US">1 in 6 children have been sexually abused;<br /></span><span lang="EN-US">1 in 18 men have been raped or sexually assaulted as an adult.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The highest number of rapes within a 12-month period was recorded by police in the year ending Sept 2022 as 70,633. Over that same period, only 2,616 rape cases went to court.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In 2021, only 1 in 100 rapes recorded by police resulted in a charge that same year.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US">This is a drop in the ocean compared with the figures globally. </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">According to the United Nations, an estimated </span>736 million women (almost 1 in 3) have been subjected to physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence, non-partner sexual violence or both at least once in their life<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">.</span></span></p><p style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span lang="EN-US"></span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: times;"><o:p></o:p><span lang="EN-US">Rape is used as a weapon of war, power, control and subjugation. </span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">In a resolution adopted in 2008, the UN Security Council affirmed that “</span>rape and other forms of sexual violence can constitute war crimes, crimes against humanity or a constitutive act with respect to genocide.”</span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: left;"><br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-83451828567605303992023-12-05T10:30:00.001+00:002023-12-05T10:30:00.241+00:00A Poem a Day (615): Trio<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">Trio</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In flight.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A curve, like palms reaching,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">plucking clouds from the skies.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In bloom.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Soft silk shivers, pollen stalks stiffen,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a red carpet spreads for the bees.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">On stage.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The beaten side of moon tips,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">leaks a silver-speckled wand’ring.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 2, 2023</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-66014365767774173092023-12-04T11:00:00.001+00:002023-12-04T11:00:00.252+00:00A Poem a Day (614): Shimmer<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Shimmer </b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Stars echo, glitteration, speaking of night,<br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">scant decorations of light, a distant pose.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">All heaviness slinks, a sea breeze in curve,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">cerulean salt pleasures seep into the abyss.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">On the horizon an echo of being shimmers,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the ebb of a fresh page being turned.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A solitary yacht cuts this hazy line,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">glides left to right, breaking waves,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">imagines time on pause for a second,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">lost on an island shore, sand grit shifted.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Within this move the endless is as it ever was,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the being of everything on rhythmic revolve.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 2, 2023</i></span></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-64009958252363963802023-12-03T10:30:00.001+00:002023-12-03T10:30:00.129+00:00A Poem a Day (613): Shift<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">Shift</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Beyond today, out of tomorrow,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">kind ruminations, a pagent sings,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">discrete buds of purple light reinvited,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">here, where the crocodiles glide.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Shapes flit and shapes glit,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">and the moon turns a-sideways<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">upon the rise and fall, a graduation<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">of silver, an envelope reopening.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here, naked feet sink and slide,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in and out, deep into the travelling sand,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">hiding and revealing in constant rhythm,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">this even flow watched by the yawning dawn.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, December 2, 2023</i></span></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-51283494695028158432023-12-02T20:27:00.000+00:002023-12-02T20:27:01.042+00:00A Poem a Day (612): Dust <p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">Dust</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are one,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">but we are not everything.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are part, unwhole, redrawn,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">eclipsed by night.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">This is how we bear it,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">restride and untie, this walk<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">back into soundless oblivion.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Turn out the light.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We can’t wear it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Disheveled, the weight drags.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">And dust-moted morning breathes<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">an eternity away.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright September 29, 2023</i></span></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-80472688630936995532023-11-10T09:00:00.001+00:002023-11-10T09:00:00.143+00:00A Poem a Day (611): Birth<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: red;">Birth</span></b><br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Just one spark.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Hardy. It battles the dark.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The invention of a flintstone,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">glimmer of an idea, grown,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">an unhindered orange glow.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A halo mimics the shadow’s flow,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">dancing. It slithers non-sentient.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The icy wind bristles, impatient,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">but you shield this spark from harm<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">with the curve of your palm.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, November 6, 2023</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-73359597145847414732023-11-09T06:00:00.001+00:002023-11-09T06:00:00.138+00:00A Poem a Day (610): Plunge<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Plunge</b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Dawn lifts on a silenced sea,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">evened waves rotate on ever-slow,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">an uninterrupted rhythm of sleep.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Without edge or arrogance,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">uncut by bird or whistling wind,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">a page of a book turning.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are the <i>echo</i> in the indent,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the spine, the fold, the blank,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the motion of the <i>echo</i>,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the falling point, the plunge<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">between papers, the idea that loiters,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">waiting to be read.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, November 6, 2023</i></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;">
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-53544136019741368682023-11-08T10:30:00.001+00:002023-11-08T10:30:00.136+00:00A Poem a Day (609): The politician<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;">The politician<br /></span> </span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The dragon’s breath curls, breathes fire,<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">caresses the moon, carves it out,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">digs with its claws til nothing remains.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">So darkness reigns. How come we didn’t<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">miss the sun? Why didn’t we argue? Too long<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we dithered, and the hours are now lost.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Time flows, but now we cannot see it.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The dragon’s breath curls, and we,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">we can’t breathe.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 12, 2023</i></span></span></div><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-21812003527926528552023-11-07T10:00:00.002+00:002023-11-07T10:00:00.141+00:00A Poem a Day (608): Salt<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Salt</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We wait on the edge of Never,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">eye of the storm breaking the curve.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Foam flicks, sprinkles our cheeks,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">makes our skin bristle with tears of ice.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">This roar is something I never can learn,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">never echo, this strength in pure abandon,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the splicing against rock, the fierce surge,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">this Never to be discovered in default.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Waves surge and curve, spin inside out,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">while the rain plunges, unperturbed.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In its clear-blue wisdom it rages back,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">casting doubt that our sun will ever shine.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Salt spits and I catch it, lick my lips, taste it.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">In all my days it has never felt the same.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">From all these places, a wealth of visitations,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">it brings us news of the lost and found.<br /> </span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">But we are all forgotten when the ebb subsides,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">when this ardent flow resides on another shore. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, November 6, 2023</i></span></span></div><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-50432077664829376372023-11-06T18:43:00.011+00:002023-11-06T18:52:33.843+00:00A Poem a Day (607): Flagstones<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="color: red; font-family: times;"><b>Flagstones </b></span></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Rainbows upon flagstones<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">cast lights amid blue rain’s faint splash,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">sparkling streams in the bald air.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">A wealth cascades. We limit darkness,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">but we could still be anywhere.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The lift goes down, and so we travel.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Stairs range upward, so we alight.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Here, the late train speeds a single track,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">eels its way over low-drawn verdant hills <br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">in a welcome rush of green.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">The travelling wind caresses our framed face,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">lifts all the strewn parts, recycles lives,<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">the essence of the inside we carry out.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We are short here. We lack distance.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">But we are among the many passing through.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, November 6, 2023</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-38206093902939477522023-10-25T16:05:00.004+01:002023-10-25T16:08:33.206+01:00A Poem a Day (606): The Hitchhiker - something for Halloween<p><br /></p><div class="post-header" style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 0px 0px 1em;"><div class="post-header-line-1"></div></div><div class="post-body entry-content" id="post-body-362908058385236781" itemprop="description articleBody" style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 1.4; position: relative; width: 676.4px;"><div><span style="font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgwHo8LYTdGAIpjtbU5m8xbWCvMch3QcL4AvbAdZl3Ri4CxcPY8_MIdgtN5V7RoGV9xBCnFrdOQvwrWfw5aCrfm92DbFdV23WSt4Fz7wEl5UeQ_qK4JO5dgboLyuLPl8NMRawmCc-d_0U/s500/51mREn02LcL.jpg" style="clear: right; color: #d96041; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="313" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOgwHo8LYTdGAIpjtbU5m8xbWCvMch3QcL4AvbAdZl3Ri4CxcPY8_MIdgtN5V7RoGV9xBCnFrdOQvwrWfw5aCrfm92DbFdV23WSt4Fz7wEl5UeQ_qK4JO5dgboLyuLPl8NMRawmCc-d_0U/w200-h320/51mREn02LcL.jpg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(210, 210, 210); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="200" /></a></div><span style="font-family: times;">As we're coming up to Halloween, here is a spooky one, about a werewolf. It has been published in one of my books, <i>Mind-spinning Rainbows</i>, which is divided into light and dark themes. It contains 109 poems and 49 haiku.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">The Hitchhiker</span></span></b></span></div><div><span style="color: red;"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></b></span></div><div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">No time like the present,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">she said,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">wished yesterday revolved,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">wishing upon the thing</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">as the oil spilled forth</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">dark and rich,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">congealing in her hands</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like sin.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">The time was for the taking,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">the day eaten by night.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">A still, arched moon</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">breathed out</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">against the howling wind,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like a curse.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">She stood guard over it,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">her own body,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">and the soul caged –</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">its remnants –</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">as the car turned</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like a hearse.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">“Are you going my way?”</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">she asked the profile,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">flicking a smile,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">opening her hands,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">clean, so bare,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like innocence.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">Twisted is the way that</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">I am,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">she said,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">not so long ago</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">to the last passer-by,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like a game.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">This one has a crazy air,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">a dark wildness,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">flicks back his hair,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">spits in the dirt,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">curses this old life,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like a reject.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">In her hands she carries it</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">all, despairing,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">slipping into the car</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">too close to him,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">offering a smile,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like a child.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">But the demon inside her</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">rages hot and cold,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">eager to howl,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">translucent as this moon.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">In a moment she’ll snap</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">like hell itself.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">No time like the present,</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;">she said.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone. Mind-spinning Rainbows. Published April 18, 2015.</i></span></span></span></div></div>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5105169001740479425.post-78188013104704807832023-10-18T23:27:00.005+01:002023-10-18T23:43:00.188+01:00A Poem a Day (605): To those left behind<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span><b><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="color: red;">To those left behind</span><br /></span></span></b><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We light candles to combat the dark.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We hold vigils to remember the gone.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We walk with placards to fight against their plight.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We print pictures of the missing in a rescue bid.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We erect statues to honour those who gave.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We pass medals to those who showed their mettle.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We write names upon names upon silent walls.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We place cut flowers on a gravestone’s echoes.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We turn over the years of our photo albums.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We carry in our hearts every face who mattered.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We send cards to signify our empathy and love.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We listen. We respond.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Sometimes there are no words we can say.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">Because sometimes there are no words.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">But we are here.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times;">We offer the warmth of our arms instead.<br /></span></span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span style="font-family: times;"> <br /></span></o:p></span><span lang="EN-US"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><i>Copyright Vickie Johnstone, October 18, 2023</i></span></span></p><p>
<br /></p>vickiejohnstonehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15947507866512596346noreply@blogger.com0