A Collection of Poetry (1992-1995) by Jill Beth Johnson
Chapter Seven - Of Increasing Isolation
POEMS
10-14-95 - ON BEING EK-CENTRIC
so shall we rejoice
in bonding by grace
not always understood
as hidden yet here
like sacra inescapable
with faith everlasting
so shall we
rejoice
in pain free
hour
of remembrance
thus known
only by good
as ordinance
beautiful
so shall we
rejoice
in seclusion
still hard
for lonely can
be
a difficult
task
though better
still
than
non-aloneness by lies
so shall we
rejoice
inside the
she-wolf
mother-daughter-sister-sent
womb
so shall we renounce who invites adoption
confusion deft of innocent ones
devastating journeys not really of me, you
or we…
with forgotten joy so shall we
rejoice
through promises never in the great secret
kept by sure jokers that has allowed
life to remain
even now awesome
hysteria’s vanity in curious
substance
unladylike before gentlemen that overwhelms dragons
if there’s any of those left with humility quite
without blatant blame though not often
amidst arrogance for centuries enough
so shall we
reduce
our stupid
acts
survived
so shall we
marry if just barely
gladly to
become to continue
the bride at
last true teaching
of no earthly temptation so shall we consummate
adorned for
the husband in secret kundalini
in garments of
truth force-love marvelous,
weaved by God magical,
without worry
for future failure
Just
put my everything
on a
school bus
so he
can go learn
discipline
by dogma
or
prepare for restraint
to be
thrust upon him
and
his art so beautiful
filled
still with childish heroes
for
innate reasons
or
perhaps something more
simple
will come
to he
with his world
with some
who feel
the
painful reality
of
social dis-ease
by
governmental malfunction
like
senseless doctrine and
i feel helpless to guide him, at times… No matter!
Just put my everything
on a school bus
after witnessing reluctance
to put down the tools
of his artistic uni-verse
oh carefully arranged
beside his bed at night
to insure his protection
and maybe mine
from the factual orb
so seeming unlike
his miniature meditations
scribbled to perfection
for hours upon hours
yesterday - The Sabbath
when he was free to pretend
and be a little kid
worthy of all things
honourable
and easy and i feel helpless to guide him, at times… It does matter!
my son,
you sleep
and are perhaps dreaming
of enchantment colourful
and new to sweet you
an innocent babe
just seven and more
years here as 'Elliot'
how I love to watch you
O' Motherhood...
What Grandeur!
i suspect your journeys
are already chosen
at least in essence
for virtue that is
and soul by whatever
has so allowed you to be
by lots of love
within and without
Child,
Behold!
Mystery
Abounds!
i may not deny
grand master's due
or purposefully demean
anything so possible
With eminence unfolding
awaiting grateful return
for that which i call
'everything' sometimes
is really a gift
By
Great Unknowable
One... and All!
A BETTER MOTHER DANCE!!! DANCE!!! like the maiden
inflamed daughter spirit you
are DANCE!!! as warrioress within regards frontline
dues DANCE!!! because
you know you must sometimes
feel with silence DANCE!!! for friends known or
yet not may
laugh or learn by thee DANCE!!! to the guide that
calls you beyond human reason DANCE!!! fear-free, painlessly with marred spine by
birthright DANCE!!! for they that do not
know muse madness here on
earth DANCE!!! for all who have not
touched medicinal move note DANCE!!! for temple memory to lingua-lore secret DANCE!!! something about letters i wish hadn't been sent to a familial few who would rather not be purposefully startled nor wish to listen for persuasive song calling secludes muse to refuse any social masking or fictitious taming by pain external more often than not with ambiguous tenet for "Fear Be Gone!" arrives anyway as the tournament of words ever draws near to
absolute beginning or omnipotent end that insists confrontation with unpleasant stench like dragon's breath fired from anger’s face still challenge wrath upon champions among mortal lies accepted incessantly as valid or valourous, “Get Real!” so all may see beyond filthy veils with hope to say truth will be known for fickle fortress of suppression soothes not with its mockery that encourages idle minds to stay crippled again for there oozes the blood where worn soles of meek massive many still tread with faithful devotion unafraid to
love god so release the ball and chain burden to walk the hejira toward the new city with temptation banished and hear history’s shriek before the great tree growing-glowing in the garden core-lore reigning above and beyond babbling tongues for forgetfulness remains as a sad choice alive yet dead upon the innocents thirsting for bliss or fruitful encounter awaiting with hope to fulfill lonely dreams by the promise of paradise with all things wondrous and perfectly right in the middle way where there be awe ever flowing – it comes near from the Father and Mother Divine forgiving us our debts we wish to believe we no more will welcome for in the high place we would wish to be with vows really worthy standing nakedly free Oh, Indeed....! He so loved the world we’ve denied Oh, Indeed! we so love ecstatic caress, its passion forsakes none after all So this is Love. So this is Love? around
the sun and
Son so
blameless – so splendid though
striking accidentally one
with ma-guilt or
perhaps that is just whereby
her daughter plans
another small meal unwholesome
and not suited
for kings or
children holy today
with fair call to
colour-filled dreams beyond
all illusion astounding
in essence or
maddening in magnitude which
of course are the same unsettling
truths gratefully,
joyously Great Mother keep our feet upon the path true 11-20-95 THAT THANKSGIVING THING i wonder if
others find karmic debt inevitable and heavily following them about their
journeys for history
repeats itself in precarious ways as the american holiday season approaches and resurrects
ancient acts and feelings like re-runs and re-makes that used to bore me when i indulged
in modern things like television and technical such but i did give up much of that
which seemed a waste of energy most times as if robbing me somehow things of
vitality anyway for traveling this time in a shattered vehicle that seems to have forced
me to become a reluctant mechanic or messenger for thirty years plus while
witnessing others slaying by choice their own vivacity and refusing allegiance awaiting
mutual respect or communal value in lieu of stupidity or babble such
as this vain endeavor that forgets not
to judge at times it- self with
gloomy purpose like poison invading kind space like that of my son and then
compassion or sympathy slip slowly away with the winds of regret or
remorse and i dine alone once again without some lover playing tricks
on me just after he’d assured me again of a truth non- true and says
he will be back right after presuming himself invited here and his
'just-a-friend' female who appeared out of nowhere deny me a place
at the table set for two and have properly offered thanks to the
heavens or mystery they believe in for grand cuisine surely won't
cause heartache or headburn where they already are in anticipation
of lonely thursday soon to be return as if a strange
plague and i have been here before and one time was too many
for unworthy is irony in that which is
case or more
when sheer abuse and abandon
arrive just
before the due-date for men
when they must
then make a choice
or take a
chance that i will recover
from mere manly
selfish offerings
yet still deem
them gentlemen
after choosing
to disgrace
a maiden who
cared not
for fictitious
friendship
but these type
so much
seem common in
their
uncommon
discourtesy
for
brother-sisterhood
intent though i
truly do
hope to express
regard
clearly before
tragedy
strikes as
blood flows
even now for
there is
the
non-accidental
greetings with
garish
attraction to
art or whatever
arousing this
moment as another sick sap
parading as a
“Professor” ignores feminine plea for kind consideration
before
promising that all of these things are of course at hand and inside their heart
and intentions until proof is requested of their alleged virtue and they have to bail or accept their real selves
11-26-95 - 'SHE
SEES' JUST SOMETIMES
anticipation arouses
an attempt to explain
or submit briefly a tale
a bio as such
to a teacher because
my trivial gift of 'Evening
Myth'
may have perplexed him
or perhaps myself
as i'd announced its relation
to the class or to Guinevere
and of course it was bias
as one's poetry must be
and of course it was feminine
as my poetry must be
but also... oh so...
sad? angry?
reflective of pain and injustice
or some other thing uninvited
but repeatedly offered
by some politician or knight
who "respects me"
and "admires me"
and "loves me"
and wants my vote or crown
of thorns
with all the tenderness of a raging bull
full of shit?
Yeah!
so i re-read
the myth and defense
of Guinevere and me
and discovered my stance
had not magically changed
during my November vacation
at which time i gave thanks
for my sweet child who remains
a gentleman yet
and offers no lie
when he tells me "i love you"
as insomnia subdued
my joy and dance
for now for i suffer
weird woe of a fool
believing predictable lies
just after another
minister of words
proclaimed himself "in-touch"
with his feminine
side
and all that popular nonsense
not to be found but felt
but i knew he didn't really understand
despite his doctor’s label
before he discovered me
more frightening than "irresistible"
and he suddenly chose
to dine with another
even while in his pants
still lingered parts of me
and my tattooness
though i was glad
the unsuspecting other
arrived in time
for me to leave
my art
u n f i
n i s h
e d
Yeah!
and all this
like a curse upon me
while another mortal king
or master of confusion
refused visitation
with our beautiful prince
as the royal tools fail him
and i proved unpossessed
by any other than god
since maturity assured
motherly significance
beyond other gestures
for this one won’t poison
with conditional love
lies
and may yet do battle
with the woman he's scorn
for she tires of turning
the other cheek in attempts
to ease his manly pain
year after year and well into
a second decade
Yeah!
and all this
following lifelong aloneness
that i wish i'd get used to
follows one more fake noble
in his recent beg for my attention
and he cried like a baby
for my certain rescue
of him from himself
just before he replaced me
with ego, such arrogance
upon being re-assured
that i'll not be his maid-servant
or sensual slave
or pathetic puppet
despite his obvious mastery
of trickery and whoredom
Yeah!
and perhaps
fools can awaken
as 'she sees' one
day
for i too would have loved
the hero - my Lancelot
though i knew all along
he could destroy me.
himself and our kingdom
with masculine charm no less
guilty to the omnipotent
end by being anything but
in defense of the lady
Yeah!
such has been
the unwelcome malady
frequently assumed
vainly avoidable
but for feminine allure
and artistic estrangement
that are not mine
except by grace
so i must learn
to accept that which i not
yet clearly explain
so to not welcome
the sad subjection to another
even less pertinent to class
and write of concern
for one i don't know
yet somehow believe
is a true gentleman
for his words are quite eloquent
and of deepest thought
while i fear he becomes
as heavily burdened
as other folk so intense
and with teachers' hearts
forever as they are
also with the inquiry
of most worthwhile students
to remind him that one
in twenty is enough
to touch and teach
for that one will further
seek and say
with emotion and respect
things of importance
that may too be unheard
by those deafened by choice
but the word has been spoken
and won’t be silenced now
nor kept from others
who honestly listen
and surely i am too feeble
in the mind to offer
just advice to genuine masters
but will request anyway
that he and they take time
to record their fine messages
that are simple songs really
if only to save
themselves or their families
from pain by frustration
and such things so curious
and apparently also
upon them like a plague
or more likely
a blessing
Yeah!
you
might have
a need to know
something about vows
within certain ladies
or one lady in particular
insulted and humiliated
by tricksters about
who master nothing
of feminine understanding
and perhaps that is why
some men remain submerged
in shallow waters around
isles of downtown whores
who choose to receive
pathetic financial gain
from such as these
with their feign fowl beliefs
that they could ever keep up
with true few warrior females
who ask little of men or others
that may say but don't see
grandeur by kindness
mysteriously hidden
anticipating regard
with honour our being
equal children of God
despite what harshness
by which it may be
that they thus far have welcomed
'she sees
through veils'
and
i wouldn't think
it a good idea
to call upon me again
until you have learned
to simply be kind
let us pray
_________________________________________________________
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