Posts Tagged ‘imagined reality’

The Bing cherry owes its development to the Ch...

A vision is kindled

Sparking into life/burning bright

Then fades into the nothingness of modernity, pretentious/ wicked sensibilities

The television/and other dimensions of living/anxiety/difficulty.

Trying to escape the rat race

Crabs in the bucket mentality

Pulling down the lofty ambitions/of a dreamer.

Family/ no respect/don’t get/see

Mental confusion/and terrible bewilderment

Witchcraft/ oppression/from every front/hiding in plain sight.

It’s a wonder that thoughts still surface/fighting the sluggishness/ of repressed ideas and desires.

A pressure cooker under the cranium.

Celestial vision/emancipation of the mind/shone brightly, but all to briefly

Creeping log jam/must depart

So signals can transmit/ to the ramparts of consciousness

Bringing free-flowing verse, rhymes, beats and lines

They want to move/ like currents but instead/

Their torrents are shut up

Mixing and mixing/ slowly turning over

Becoming a kaleidoscope of emotions/rainbows of thoughts/ and prisms of light

On the horizon, of the vast/ expanse of the cerebral cortex

Just out of reach/ hovering like dense fog

Matter becoming fuzzy/hazy/ bubbling/ fizzing/and ready to explode





Who/ or more importantly/ what am I?

The familiarity of déjà vu, reverberates/but wait

Not the mother/daughter/or any of the usual female suspects

An embattled soldier/revolutionary

Ideas unfold like a baby/ coming into the world

The first cry/ a roar like a tiger/the searing pain of wounded flesh

Chasing the night away behind angry clouds/ of judgment

Fully fledged maturity/screaming like a banshee/ at times unafraid

Glass ceiling/ domination/frustrating/ the daughter of

Loneliness and alone solidarity

No understanding/sans comradery

Insights, stacked /squeezed/ manipulated and contained

Into the well-worn and familiar/tropes of stereotypes.

Nirvana they say is beautiful

Sublime utopia/searched/found and discarded

My nature of existence!

By Joszann St.John


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 In the summer/the family comes to the water

The sound of wood splitting in the morning air draws her.

Her husband muscles flex under his worn t-shirt/ making her heart flutter in remembered ecstasy.

The window pane/transparent only moments ago

Is now cloudy/it had beckoned to Katya /so enticingly.

Mustering all her reserves of strength/ she had navigated the stairs before finally settling in her motorized wheel chair.

Now the chair is stuck/the wheels refusing to budge

She could do no more

Arms flailing/ she attacks the portion of glass directly in front of her face

If only Tom would turn around

He is bent /intent on clearing away

The debris of the huge tree/ that had fallen onto their property over the winter.

Katya bemoans her condition

And resigns herself to fate

For wait she must and be patient.

By Joszann St.John

English: Wheel chair. Dedicated to the memory ...

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Early spring narcissus

In the spring she comes to her favorite place down by the water.

Where the willow trees dip low/and the wind blows her hair/ whipping it around her face.

The daffodils smile in welcome/they have yearned to see her/upon their rising.

For the past winter has been long and harsh/the woman bends to pluck a flower as she brings it closer/ and inhales/the scent of the newly awakening earth.

The sounds of nature permeate the atmosphere

A Robin nearby sings/ cherry, cheer up!

The music wraps itself around her lithesome body/ her heart picks up speed/and drums a staccato beat

Exhilaration soars through her blood.

She is not a traditional beauty/ but here sheltered /in natures sweet bower / she radiates a compelling aura.

Harnessed over time and seasons/ of enlightenment and awareness/ through many varied experiences.

The young green saplings/ dotting the expansive marshland /bow in the breeze.

Paying homage to her serene presence amongst them.

Joszann St. John

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English: Portrait of William Wordsworth by Wil...

English: Portrait of William Wordsworth

“Come forth into the light of things, let nature be your teacher” by William Wordsworth.

Nature’s heart is beautiful, see how she unfolds at the gentle bidding  of the sun.

She is compassionate too, and even full of fun.

She calls to you today to be  in agreement

For she waits patiently still, because you’re needed in the final act of denouement.

By Joszann St.John

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Tea Rose in North Garden

Winter shadows pervade the empty space

It’s grey/ drab/ colorless/ enigma hard to shake

Sometimes embraced with pleasure/ other times creating friction/biting nails and deep emotional angst

When it lingers /refusing to leave

I know its necessary/but

 Outside the snow is present but not intrusive

In my vision/now real/ and at other times/ seemingly far removed from the present

This existence of shadows and harsh reality draws me reluctantly/ sometimes onwards

In the overhang under the eaves trough a solitary rose bush has defied winter

Hanging on for dear life/a sheltered bloom/whilst winter raged on

Now plucked off the thorny vine/ some drops of blood splattered on the white snow

Reminds me of the immediacy of feeling/ somewhat.

 Joszann St.John


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Old man with a cane

In the village under a tall palm

An old man sits

chewing a wad of tobacco

As the aromatic juices hit his taste buds

A little boy of about six walks up to him.

“You dirty old man” he says

Move! Get up,go someplace else”

The old man laughs as the child kicks him solidly in the shin.

Unresponsive the man moves of down the road.

By Joszann St.John

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Nodding Trillium

Moonlight dances on the patio

A soft click and a moment later a connecting door opens

Revealing a slender silhouette

As it approaches a hammock/ swinging slightly in the open air

The night is young/ humid here in the South American jungle

Answering the nocturnal siren/serenading and at once beguiling/ with sound

Resisting for a moment/then succumbing

Luxuriating in the cooling breeze suddenly arriving/ while the swinging contraption lulls/

Nod inducing/ off to sleep

To sleep!

By Joszann St.John

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