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Posts Tagged ‘st john’

English: Wild Malus sieversii apple

Her painted smile leaks down into her neck

Running in lines down to her heaving bosom

Part laugh, but mostly wry self deprecating humor

It’s not everyday that she pauses to reflect, but when she does

She remembers being willing

Full of curiosity and joie de vivre

Now all the faces morph into sameness

Before they were special, when she could call them by name

Johnny, Billy, Reggie and Mackey.

There was a time when expectations ran high and she’d dreamed of the culmination of her business.

She didn’t mourn her squandered youth!

Why bother?

Her mother did up and leave her to fend for herself

On the cusp of womanhood, she had been shopped around.

Promising herself five years, the plan was to relocate somewhere afterwards

Far away from, the sanctimonious drivel of familiar creatures

Yearning had settled in her heart these last year’s though

For Johnny and innocence.

She regretted eating Eve’s poison.

 

By Joszann St. John

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DEPRESSION-WOMAN-PHOTOGRAPH-DOROTHEA-LANGE

Hello to you all,

My second novel is a wrap,look for Sonnets in Waking Moments poetry is life coming to a bookstore near you soon. Dedicated to my sister Joan St.John.Gone but never forgotten.Thanks so much.

Joszann St.John

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At high tide when the moon is high in the sky

Pulling on the water bodies

Mermaids come ashore to their usual haunts

Wrapping themselves in the mists that shrouds the islands

As they comb their long and plentiful black hair

All the while looking into diamond and pearl encrusted mirrors.

They haven’t come to lure men to their deaths tonight.

Instead, tonight is about vanity and savoring the moonlight in her splendor

Wishing for once that they were landlocked residents.

 

Joszann St. John

 

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Stale beer sits stagnant and unwanted now/

In cups, bottles and cans on the counter.

Evidence of the previous night’s encounter

She always hates the morning after

Righting a chair that was upended.

It‘s only nine and her white chef’s hat is already askew

Her shoe has walked into another sticky mess

If her morning had started off well

The scene before her would perhaps be more appealing to say the least (it’s not like she hasn’t seen it before) like ten times, but

Her two kids were ill last night and she missed the bus

She couldn’t find her favorite lipstick/plush violet

Her mother agreed to watch the kids / can she talk? Whew!

I left her talking about her trip to Macy‘s the other day.

Heavy curtains from a bygone era

Keeps the weak sunlight at bay.

She doesn’t worry about the patrons now

They always come after, at lunch and later.

She has asked herself many TIMES WHY SHE BOTHERS?

Her lips painted a bright crimson sneers in anger

It’s in these moments she’d wished she’d completed her law degree.

By Joszann St.John

 

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Unearthed by water flowing continuously

Un-tombed bones-white-brittle-fragile

Large bones/ small bones- bones of all sorts

Relics of the past

The felled giants of a forest long forgotten

Covered over by time

Rechanneled water dig grooves deep into

Buried mountain ranges.

 

By Joszann St.John

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“Goodness is a quality we achieve.We obtain goodness by doing.It is an active expression, seeking always  to accomplish something” by Joszann St.John.

 

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Tended by loving gentle hands

A beautiful garden rests at the end of a walled lane

Behind a row of brick houses.

A gleaming padlock hangs on a little wooden gate.

During the day the gate remains open

At night, someone turns the lock

Stopping the flow of all traffic.

 

By Joszann St.John

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