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 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
Graff1980
I am grateful
For the long grass
That bends with the wind
I am grateful
For the quiet night
I am grateful
For inspiration
I am grateful
For my twelve hour shift
When my twelve hour shift ends
I am grateful
For good sleep
I am grateful
 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
L
me.
 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
L
me.
skipping, singing
forest mist
christmas pine
hollow green thunder
hot chocolate skies
drip drip
pouring rain
melting skin
still trees
empty breeze
 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
L
Untitled
 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
L
orange crush,
when we were born
sunkissed yellow rays peaked
in liquid shining brilliance
bubbling stardust
spilled down into puddles
rising in vibrance
until the world fizzed over
Hope is like the lantern
That shines on darkened nights
When times in life are testing
And sorrow is our plight
Hope still shows a future
We must find the strength to see
Regardless of the weight we bear
In our misery
Hope is still a chance
When the hearts filled with despair
Hope is what we cling to
When we find nobody's there
Hope is there to guide us
To a path that leads the way
Leaving all our fears behind
To tomorrow's brighter day
I love how I can transform words
into art
but I'm lost as to what I want
when the side of me
the one that hides in the dark
that holds hands with melancholy
grips onto anything
onto everything
that might make it worthwhile
is the one that writes so effortlessly
but the side of me that is most at peace
has trouble writing more than a line
I've been so happy and healthy recently but I haven't been able to write very easily recently..
Not all the poetry I've shared
is up to my current standards
some hurts to read
knowing I thought
that it was good enough to share
but I don't want to delete any of it
because if I delete who I used to be
how can I prove I've grown
I'm not here for small talk
I want to avoid the wave of
okays
and blank faces
I don't wish to drown in
meaningless conversations

How are you?
This isn't a surface level greeting
Dig deeper
How are you feeling?
Is your mind your enemy today?
Or your friend?
Or is there a disconnect, like an acquaintance?

How's the weather today?
I'm not talking outside
I can check that myself
but what is the weather in your head
Is it bland?
Is it nice?
Do you need protection?

Do you like this place?
This physical space
When you fully engage in the world
Do you like it?
What would you change?

What do you like to do?
How do you spend your time?
When the world is crashing down
What helps?

I'm not here for small talk
So don't get alarmed
When I try to get to know you
Lord God , you know my sorrow as well as my sufferings.
You know just how much I have been dealing with lately.
O God, please help me, to overcome these as well soon.
So that I shall be back here on an regular basis soon God.
I have been missing my friends on this here site here.
But as you have known I been struggling here as lately.
My friends on here I do miss, please repair me O God.
So that I may once again get encourage by them on here.
But I need to be healed before I can return here once again.
I been hurting as well as going through some things lately.
 Sep 2016 Ann M Johnson
SE Reimer
a tribute

~

memories...
in fading sepia we find,
the romance of
another time;
albums filled
with black and white,
of glossy faces
burnt in fading light;
boxes of our ko-dak-chro-ments,
gone-by treasures,
once-upon-a-moments;
wistful years once crystal clear,
mem’ries drowned in haze,
resurface now,
renewed in tears,
...as we remember well.

memories...
the yellow ribbons tied,
’round an ol’ oak tree;
anxious waiting to make an “us”,
the anticipation of a “he and me”;
until the news from distant shore,
yet another casualty of war,
and now remains but this,
a marble slab inscribed,
in accolades of former glory,
merely remnants ’midst the pines;
on forest lawn where promises,
tween two for’er became untwined,
...as she remembers well.

memories...
so many are the ways
the mem’ry onward lives
even this, a,
“do this in...” request
restores a covenant anew
a "remembrance of..."
the “we” here left behind,
be it in the bread we break,
this forever to remind,
a sacrosanct entreaty made,
promise sealed as blood in wine,
reserving not for deities alone,
but given us immortal souls,
to us a gift at birth,
of staggering import,
responsibility of heavy worth;
of after-ashes keeping still,
an ever-after captured with
the shutter, brush and quill,
...so we remember well.

memories...
its keeping cherished lovingly
though its loss,
its diminishment bereaved;
as lovers silent grieve,
those lost to us yet breathe,
in memories ’midst the breeze.
forgetful of the slightest
until one day in finality
their mortal soul is set free
into immortality.
...to for’er remember.

memories...
to us, a call, a charge,
a “ne’er forget”
a duty large
a “do this in
remembrance of”
this our promise
to e’er remember,
always keep;
forgetting never,
to carry the flame,
while we yet live
in sunshine’s grip;
an oath is sworn,
that forever we,
shall always ready be,
for in remembering best,
the tears flow easily,
and so it isn't pity,
of a loss i seek,
no,
for ’tis in finding memory
that i shall always weep,
...as i remember well.

~

post script.

of love lost in the haze of war; of lives changing motion, a baby is born, as a grandmother moves into memory care... a cycle of life, brought full circle best in remembrance.  and this makes remembering perhaps the most important facet that defines, sets us apart as humans, best captured in this thought, "in forgetting the past we cease to be and bring hope forward for the future. and so we remember... for we must never forget!” and so we line our shelves, our walls with them, visiting inscribed stones behind fences.  

dedicated today to our memories each of loved ones, lovers lost; but on this dark eve, especially those who lost those souls, three thousand strong, a darkest day of remembrance, this September the eleventh, who never got to say goodbye... so we remember well!
If you ever travel under rain dotted blue
stop at the ten mile haat.


Sellers there are not smart
buyers don't ever bargain
strange is their dealing art
both parties feel having gained.

Small is all they have
except the smiles on the face
the little the garden has saved
is sold to fetch happiness.

There's no haggling on price
never mind if you don't buy
no price is needed to be nice
peace is just an easy try.

Small men with not much of need
who easily make you their part
an island that lies far from greed
enchants you wins your heart.

And it's not a story that I make
I happen to be there once a while
return with a bag of big take
from the village haat at ten mile.
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