Poem 26: OBLIVION

A knot so tight,
Stuck in my throat,
Words of delight?
I laugh out of spite.

What do you want?
A familiar face now foreign,
Lost for meaning, judged often
By eyes that see sound, softened.

Mind so clouded,
Thoughts rushing, crowded
A parade of vivid dreams,
Strangely cheerful it seems.

Even maybe strangely sad,
Most considered it tacenda,
Broken sky leaking into meridian,
It fills us, the infinity of oblivion.

Poem 22: TRANCEPARENCY

I howled so loud,
As they buried me,
In the cold wet ground.
Time fitted that into a palm
Distance brought distance,
In unison, so calm
Harmony, transparency,
I feel your pulse,
With such clarity,
Many masks we all hide behind,
Don’t forget eye for an eye
Will make the world go blind.
Deception, betrayal, dishonesty
The lack of transparency,
Hold me,
Beyond a skin-deep sense of self,
There’s a depth of rasasvada unusually elysian.
Make a decision,
Watch an irenic mangata
The moon reflecting on the sea
Peace simply asks for transparency.

Poem 21: CONTROL

He would join his daily coma,
On his faded old sofa,
Just like clockwork, tik tok, tik tok,
The alcohol, streaming his veins,
Tied down with ropes and chains,
I am sorry, he cries as he explains,
All the broken promises obsessively he maintains.

I stood still in my corner,
Terrified,
I stood still as days became weeks,
Weeks became months and years,
Time passed uncontrollably,
I watched and learned his behaviour,
All his techniques.
I saw empty bottles broken, so lovely,
Face pale, and drained, so ugly,
I never saw him come home early.
Until one day, he never came at all.

I’m in no need for a climax,
After a sensation of alcohol,
The trick is to relax,
I promise it’s my last drunk call.
The world is black and white,
Sometimes a little in between,
Mostly smells like piss in the alleyways,
It’s far from a pretty scene.

My hands are wrinkled,
Eyes barely see,
Hair is now grey,
But am I really free?
Time has caught up,
I am old and grown up,
Turned into my alcoholic father,
Like father like daughter,
No point in regret,
Because I can’t just pack,
And pick a time to go back.
Funky smell, jukebox, neon lights,
Vodka soda, with a bit of lime,
One thing we can’t control is time.

Poem 20: MIRROR

Do not disturb the silence,
It’s in his cage, sleeping, no violence,
He is my nightmare, my horror,
What a dark aura.
I am weak, getting weaker,
Draining my spirit, diving deeper,
I was never much of a public speaker,
More the suffer in silence,
It’s fine honestly,
Because no one is aware of my absence.
Life is spiting a cunning smile
On my face like a slap, I walk for a mile,
With a broken nose, black eye,
Bleeding lips, full of kisses saying goodbye.
But he is awakening,
Digging, and chewing the cage, I’m listening.
Stop him. Please, stop him.
But my odds are slim,
I don’t know what I will face,
I am petrified, is there simply no way to erase,
The past, my memories or this place?
I cry, without shoulders to cry on,
I scream; however, no soul hears,
I am all alone,
Sitting in a dark room,
At least I’ve got a throne,
Finally, the cage unleashes my biggest fear,
Before me it stands so dear,
It’s dark, chill hits down my spine,
It’s presence far from divine.
I see myself, it’s a mirror,
A pale face, and dry lips, bitter,
I feel a cold weight in my hand.
We both have a weapon, a pistol,
BAM! Unheard words, so wistful.

Poem 19: UTOPIA

We are the brain cells,
Of a nine-year-old boy,
His imagination with deep wells and spells.
There is no reality, in this reality,
It’s full of faceless eyes.
Synthetic lips, cursed with sanity,
Insanity, sanity people so concerned for morality,
Yet their hypocrisy, hurts my chest
A dead utopia, dust and a quest.
Full of lawless streets but I am free,
Lawless streets with nobody,
Lawless streets and a smiling cat,
Singing from a tree, just like LSD.
This is the dead utopia,
All you people fear,
Because our existence only exists,
As long as this boy is asleep and unaware.

Poem 18: HEARTBREAK

A green uniform complementing,
your pale soft skin,
A war you’re assenting,
The return date unknown,
I release my last pleasurable moan,
Before I am once again alone.

But my love, do you not know?
That I am soft for this world, sensitive.
My heart shatters with a touch,
More delicate than thin glass.

I lay on dry grass,
Wait for the endless time to pass,
Heavenly kiss is felt on my cheek,
Somehow a sense of loss,
Everything seems so bleak.

Tears soaked by a folded flag,
Handed by a proud naïve young man,
“HE WAS A HERO”, they all brag.
The colours; red, white and blue,
On my wall, what a view…

The saddest feeling is loss,
The loss of my path,
My past,
My love,
My future.
The loss of myself,
I wade into the woods,
So much greenery,
But all I see is machinery,
Bombs and tanks,
Greedy men drinking wine on their thrones.

You were the beauty in all my chaos,
Hopeless dreams I embrace,
A hole in my chest, wide open
It’s heavy, my heart is broken.

Poem 16: WORDS

All these poems I wrote for you,
Beautiful, true maybe even cruel,
But all these words, I spit and throw up,
Like liquid sunsets mixed in with the sea,
Meaningless, a lost cause,
Cremated, but now an oak tree.
Birds stuck inside my hair,
Hair birthed from the ashes of the night sky,
They whisper words into my ear,
Words only I understand,
Only I’m able to comprehend.

I dreamt I was dancing, naked,
In the middle of a destruction,
In the middle of the remains
Of what was a battle field.
I danced, and danced.
Till my feet bled,
Till my legs gave in,
Till the sky was dusky red,
Till the enemies feared my power,
And fled.

I dreamt I was dancing,
In the middle of a destruction,
Beneath a torn moon,
The stars cried, we confused it as rain,
It is all a mere illusion,
A delusion created for us,
We truly do own nothing,
Not even our own bodies,
It belongs to the ground.

We simply seek and search,
A moon that’s full,
In one piece, exploding with energy,
A sky so bright, thriving with life,
That showed no cracks and does not leak.
Perfection, does not need to be unique,
Simply undamaged,
A sky that will camouflage our flaws,
Even guilts, shames, cries, and evils.
Upheavals.

No soul is perfect, or pure,
Bury your conscience,
We are all a little fucked up,
Nothing makes sense anymore,
Similar to this poem,
Because we are all a little broken,
From words that was spoken,
But more from words that were unspoken.

Let your skin soak in my tears,
Watch quietly,
As I undress to the world,
I watched the white tunnel disappear,
A failed attempt, once again,
My saviour. Is he really a saviour?
Now you can kiss me goodbye,
Without any spoken words.

Poem 12: DREAM

My mind dizzy from the sweet red wine,
Laughter echoing, with great conversation,
Hours felt like minutes, our heart beats align,
Comfortable silences were a mere confirmation.

Silky bed sheets touching the bare skin,
The room warm, sweat dripping,
Butterflies trying to escape from within,
The ten thousand layers of walls, stripping.

Voice spoke to me like a lullaby,
It was deep and a hint of misty,
the stars can’t shine without a black sky,
I drank red wine, you drank whiskey.

It was a lovely dream while it lasted,
So, let us forget what the past did.

Poem 11: SKIN

In my chest, my ribs protect,
Hard bones, a dying fire,
An empty void I neglect,
Surrounded by electrical barb wire.

My demons awaken,
The wolves, howl with the full moon,
Every creature which sleeps inside. God-forsaken.
What a sad, lonely tune.

They confuse my kindness,
Assume it is weakness. Sinister grin.
I introduce hell,
It wears my skin.

Melissa Johnson

Poem 10: DAY & NIGHT

Sipping my tea, knock on the door. A visitor.
Golden long wavy hair, dancing with the breeze,
The dark sky fading, sunrise. Warm beauty. Sinister.
Her smile earnest, a little keen. I’m at ease.

Together we sipped our tea. Sweet and milky. Peaceful Harmony.
Silence broke as the world woke from its sleep,
Her eyes cut through the morning ray. “I devour darkness. Eternally.”
“He is my love, my sweetheart. But cannot live when I’m near.” Weep.

She is my source of life, no need for fear,
For when she’s around. Time had fled.
I took a glimpse to her seat. Gone. I shed a tear.
She was my sun, my day. Widespread.

The world was asleep, a trespasser in my presence,
cloak woven with shadows; I knew then. Darkness.
I trembled in my seat. Breathe, smile, patience.
His love was day, the sun, the light. He could not be heartless.

His black deep eyes stared into my soul,
He spoke, “I do not ask for much child,”
Voice deep and cold, “I am what you cannot control.”
“I am fear, the unknown, dangers of hope.” Cunningly smiled.

He was my desires in physical form. Maybe upside down.
Although, I was no longer afraid,
I was allowed to dream, to desire, with him around.
He was my moon, my night, my fantasies in a darker shade.

Melissa Johnson.