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Joel Johnson Feb 2016
In a certain state of mind
I'm thinking
it was due time
to
of my own mind
write words to define
all I have in mind
Joel Johnson Feb 2016
Somedays
the wonder never ceases
and within me
it's all that was meant to be.

Steer me toward definition
a destiny lingering
longing to be beyond disbelief.

Forcefully it waivers forward
like winds pushing heartily
through motionless trees.

Disturb not a soul
they have not yet lain to rest
all that was dealt.

And then dealt the end.
Joel Johnson Feb 2016
Once the world is watching
there it is
always
next to me
something so freeing
it just has to be

What of that moment in time
when it becomes time
to say another line
in time to march worlds forward
to the end
until the end of time?

What of my mind?
What of it's search,
divine,
for the divine
in a time when it's jarring
even in rhyme
to mention but still
it has to be
even at that time?

In due time
I'm sure I will find
But 'til then it's to seek
while going out of my mind
taking two steps toward that direction
each time.
Joel Johnson Feb 2016
Somedays I wonder
where it all went
and what it was all for.

All is lost
if the last sign is a man
seated by the wayside
drifting with the wind;
aimless, and without cause.

Where would he have gone
had he not lost his way?

Where else,
and how far am I behind?

It is all fleeting,
every moment,
every gaze.

Away from me,
away from haste.

I stand for nothing,
but there it is steadily departing,
and all I see is a mission.

Acceptable,
but without certain nothingness,
there is no hope.

Such times as these lay wasting,
draining away
on childhood ambition
and frivolity.

What more
and what pain remains
is only a moment for all else to dream,
sweetly.
Joel Johnson Feb 2016
I am here again wondering when it will all end. I feel it again, a certain freedom I've longed to hear. It's such serenity, I hope it lingers again. And then when I am expected to again, I'll just say it in the end. I want to be free again. Free to be me again. And to see what it is that makes me be me. I wanted to see what I say and do what I mean, but then where else should I go, or can't I see that it was me that was meant to be. I understood the words that followed me. They stare, they comfort, they don't care, but in the end, they ring  in the air, so sweetly, it's like serenity singing sweetly again. I understand the words that wondered where it was to be, and when it ended, I said then again. Then when it began I should end it then say it was my friend again. I sent it out and then it sent it when I said it's not the way it ends.  I someday wondered why it would be the way it would end with me. I sometimes wonder why I bother to see what I wondered to be, but then it all ends with me again. I say, I sing, I seek, I wondered, I pray, I believe, I understand, and in the end it's never going to be me. So free. From me. The me that I'm meant to be. And then again. Me. Until the end. I fear nothing, and then when it ends, I'll say it again. Someday I'll pray and then sing until the end, when it will be again, what I wanted to never again send, end, or forget to be when I went back then said lend me hearts to cry, these tears they laugh, they sing, they see the light. I sounded wonders and thought it so. I meant it, then again. Then said it was and then said it again. Win. Try to begin. Then when it ends, sing it's begun again.

I may be free.  Closer to who I want to be. Something else. Something better than me. An evolution, so soon I'll see that it was what I was sent to be. I understood these words, and then they ended again, but in the end I said it was done and then it went again. Pray for the words to seep through me to the world they've never known. They must believe, see, dream, feel, and see it's real. It's their world again, and then they'll sing sweetly, dropping tears, firing waterfalls, swinging freely, freeing themselves in the end. Let's send it again. Someday, it will never end. And then I will see what it was meant to be for me. And you. And we. And us. And see, it's just that. Just what it should be. Even me. Even free. Even when we believed. Even when we don't see. We must understand it was what wasn't said that was said to be, and then in the end, you must not wish it again. Begin the end. Begin bitterly, the neverending beginning, and say a friend sent you again to be there at the end.
Joel Johnson Apr 2023
So many times
I wondered again
Never too far to fall
Even in doubt it stands
The end
Joel Johnson Sep 2016
What a gift
traded for love
divine
without haste
where crashing waves
steal hearts beating
nearer there, washing ashore
farther it feins
drifting from home

For better ways
a majestic ringing in the air
what else sounds
as it was
meant to carry forward
these days
specially placed
Joel Johnson Sep 2016
Some times
in times
those times
when all in mind
are but to dream
steadily through
toward ends
motioning for reverie
standing, dreamily basking
in euphoria-seeming bitterness
sweetly wrapped with words
screaming gently
a pain mixed with despair

To be seen
begging even then
for a moment
as one's fiery ambition
against the pinning, trapping, and confines
of what's real
searches for what's realer still
real even to me
realer than what was to be
than motions moving toward
all that was said to me

Why then in cursive
language wrought with meaning
dripping with flaws
poetic even to those
seeking another world
home again, even then
balanced when
steadied all over again
matched with thoughts in mind
freeing with chains subtlety
fraught with mind's wondering
sought toward
winds moving handily
through a wilderness
disconnects between
what's held in in time
with time serving another role again
motioning still
acceptance hinting toward will, free
seeking each time again
matched with euphony
a stated joy
peaceful, a nothingness without
what ends again
at the beginning
of what meant to be, then

— The End —