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Dane Johnson Mar 2012
Tadpoles are no frogs
But someday they will be
It is a leap-year after all

Icicles growing from the sky
The sky’s frozen tears fall on the wind
Silvery white trees, as omnipotent as ever

Blue sky rain sunshine warm winter
Life makes us whole

Breathtaking music mystical masterpieces
Hundreds captivated by your story.
You are life, as purely as can be expressed

Rosemary has never been so beautiful to me
Sometimes all I wish to do is be
Embraces that make your heart race

I connected the white light dots in the sky
And with fervor they pointed me North
Yearning for my Superior Star

Metal mountains guard my prize with his watchful eyes.

Please bring me to summer
A minuet to never end

It’s that first embrace that gets me every time
Every touch is a moment
And every moment is cherished
I write to content my heart

And you
Happy tears
And you too

Crisscrossing fingers and
Entwining hugs
“I’ll be looking for tomorrow on the loose”

How high is the moon?
Dane Johnson Feb 2012
Silence expends all possible thought of nameless emotion
Nighttime of soundless expression

Driftwood on beaches of shaded joy
Rocky outcrop escapes
Rivulet beauty we don’t see

Rock skip hip hop euphoria
Asunder Sauntering
When Eventually Someday Comes

The snow outside
My sparkling paradise
Evanescent dreams

When snowmen melt
And angels disappear
Spring blooms sunshine daisies
Let’s go smell the roses
Sit down and see-saw the morning glories arise

Summer blows in on the breeze
Running for your heart
I have green grass melancholy
Erring rain emanations:
Like a candle in the wind.

Someday Eventually Will When Only Loosely
Dane Johnson Feb 2012
Poetry
     f
       a
          l
            l
       s
                          on caffeine waterf
                                          a
    ­                                          l
               ­                            l
                                            s


Smiles precipitate when the world smells of                 r 
                                                              ­              a
                                                                        i
                                                               ­                 n
                                             ­                                         
&  
                                                              ­                                      snows preferably.

                         W hen water shines crystalline
                      H ow lovely you look              
                         E ngulfing me wholly              
                         N ot never and forever always

Blue cries tomorrow into golden sunshine dreams

                                                                                         Slathered      ­  
beauty,
hello, graceful morning                               
  thanks for crying        
daytime into existence                


Good morning to your tomorrow, tonight certainly shines clear in prolific murkiness of stars drowned in city light.

Time is crestfallen when the sun sets and mourns the silenced sun away in a drunken stupor of creativity.


The colours of delight glimmer in daybreak.
Smile at the icicles today, they taste like water.
Dane Johnson Jan 2012
Perilous mornings lighting what was once a night devoid of light
as the Sun whispers to us secrets of warmth
Sunlight trickling amazement ‘cross the horizon as it is of striking blue.

You and I could walk the earth as it is painted in sunshine.
Like water on a rainy day, replenished and unsightly beautiful in mystic drip-drops.

Hand-in-hand, connected for these pines to see
with me

Lost loosely in the trees, lingering forever with you.

seasons come and seasons go
to and fro with the snow
where the other is not.
i lie sleeping on this cot.

The feat of your words undeniably strikes me off my own feet, smiling all the while:

Glimmering
&
Glistening
Glares
You,
My
Eternal
    Snow-drop

“just close your eyes”
and see the sunrise
i will leave you to surmise

What divinities of love are shown to me in the eternal glory of this -- a full moon.
Love is a hike, and I like your path.

mountains that crown the continent.
camped in a forested palace
many the paths to take,
with you, though,
i shall not be lost.
for it is with you,
that I am only truly found.

The light shines back to us,
the reflections
of smiles aplenty
and laughter
on and of the water.

Nothing is normal and everything is strange.

in this moment,
in travelin’ cross this land,
in the shining sunlight,
what are we to forever share?

Grow and go unto this world
where you are free to see all there is to see
and be.
Dane Johnson Jan 2012
Live for love:

Life with punitive strife
   Whether the mouse or grouse.
Hands - yours and mine. And yours.
   And you.

As you lay there beside me,
    I might as well be floating.

Your smile
   What shining oblivion
So much more than epiphanies

Greatness in every step
Surely you fly instead.

Someday we can sleep.
And someday it will be tomorrow,
and then Saturday.

Running:
What ground-worthy lust.
Cunning:
Simply to get rid of the dust.

Birds of mass.
Fly right on past.

Smiles cannot count
the Miles.
Dane Johnson Dec 2011
of the wind that speaks multitudes
abounding creation that decries its mournful existence
fluidity of a falling leaf
dwelling of inhabited space
posterity of the pompous
calming blues describing the waters of high noon
reflecting on perspective
qualms of my imagination
nightingale flush
internal beauty of the highest decree
flaunting tact
simple pleasures of breathing
caress my hand, i’ll touch your hair
the blue of mine eyes shines unseen in the night
erstwhile noticed of syllabic manifestations
furtive felicity, comely for the homely
murmurs of softness
love is in the air


i spy, with my little eye, a pond, rotting with life.
a sea, devoid of meaning, as seas are
triangular pencils scratching away
out-dated calendars that hang on a peg

papers that bind us to our word
word that is bound to the papers
thought that is trapped in letters
letters formed into words
assembled into phrases
spoken from the mouth

bingo is the lingo

burning brightness of blithering baboons, begone.

smiling is more than showing teeth

gone are the days of yesterday, tomorrow is near, and yet, never here.
the present of what is that now was but is again

oh, do you ever wonder about the life of an italicized comma?
Dane Johnson Dec 2011
Rabbit tracks in the snow
padded foot, here we go:

Found beside a lake,
far away for you to seek.

Festivities of the fastidious,
i was all but oblivious.

Promising frostiness,
the air, alit and aglow.

Bombarding me
quietly
with parallelism,
banging noiselessly
off the fire
of the morning sunshine.

Mollified, the world
stirs in its lack of commotion.

Meek blunders of the fortnight,
i wish to forego.

My star,
faded from the sky.
You are
what brings me high.
I will
be with you,
upon
the epoch of
tomorrow’s
morn, come nigh.
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