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Chris Johnston Poem
You and I
our words drowned
in the electron breeze
an assonant wave….
THEN a piercing chem-trail-wail
cutting through the bedlam
eloquent drum steps
silver trumpet cadence
marionette nerves strummed
THEN OUT OF THE BLUE, the golden star-shot glare of the saxophone
Now taking giddy flight.
Your eyes--- in the nectar pandemonium
Your smile---- two strokes of genius in a kaleidoscope of rain
---myriad silver clarion confetti
take us
You and I
at lazt
jazz flazz
cosmic colours
jazz flazz
You and I
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2016
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Chris Johnston Poem
Pell-mell from you as from a blazing torch
Molten shards,
Aflame you know not if the fire heralds freedom.
Or will consume all you cherish
Will only ashes be left,
Hurled into the abyss from the tempest?
Or do the ashes hold the glory
Of a celestial diamond
The Dawn of everlasting triumph.
Cyprian Norwid
Translated by: Christopher Johnston
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2017
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Chris Johnston Poem
Modlitwa o wschodzie slonca
Kazdy Twój wyrok przyjme twardy
Przed moca Twoja sie ukorze
Ale chron mnie, Panie, od pogardy
Od nienawisci strzez mnie, Boze
Wszak Tys jest niezmierzone dobro
Którego nie wyraza slowa
Wiec mnie od nienawisci obron
I od pogardy mnie zachowaj
Co postanowisz, niech sie zisci
Niechaj sie wola Twoja stanie
Ale zbaw mnie od nienawisci
Ocal mnie od pogardy Panie...
--Jacek Kaczmarski
Dawn Prayer
To Your harshest judgments I resign myself
I am humbled by Your power
But protect me Lord from hatred
And shield me from contempt
Because You are boundless providence
The ineffable One
So give me refuge from hatred
And give me sanctuary from contempt
May Your wishes be carried out
Let Your will be done
But shield me from hatred
Deliver me from contempt, my Lord .
--translated by Christopher Johnston
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2017
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Chris Johnston Poem
ORIGINS
I
It began in the dank basement of the Thallasic column
steeped in abyssal brine of a thousand supernovae
so much alchemic sludge churned up, expelled by the co-tidal vice into the epeiric sea
A million points of organic flotsam and jetsam; Indra’s vast net billowing, swollen and bloated by myriad regurgitating fountains, shattered vents, open ocean scars
from which inky bathyl streamers wave to and fro
a trillion interactions, a revolution every second
The colossus flexes, stirs.
II
The inland sea carved a path awash with silt and sand-grain memories of a thousand shores
the alluvium mire replete with vagabond deposits
buoyant and bobbing
ethereal strands of angel hair wafting through the abyss
nerves and sinews and veins
myriad natant snowflakes tripping atop organic ooze
vast web spanning to the lapping fetch on clay-layered littoral ledges.
III
The swirling brew, rain-pummeled and vent-swollen
dividing, sub-dividing, swept by bitter sea brine
its mind’s eye under a thick film squints open.
---Life was not wrought in the witch’s cauldron---
---The Cauldron itself came to life---
The Universe awoke from its eternal slumber, and Thalassa stirred
rocked and bathed in a vast organic web, star lit and floating in a Nebula of Dreams
IV
Information-gathering units
each body a corpus of datum
splitting, spinning, joining, fusing
probing, flattening, bloating, separating
spawning countless non-appendage heralds
crawling, flying, walking, swimming, floating
WE ARE THE MANY IN THE ONE
WE ARE THE ONE OF THE MANY
WE ARE THALASSA
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2017
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Chris Johnston Poem
In the verdant sarcophagus of night
his pale, lifeless eyes unfocused
in a clearing irradiated by a cold beam
---the sitting Buddha
where he sits the forest dies
the grass withers
His pale light blinds me
So I write in inky darkness
But i cannot fathom him
or embrace with my eyes
his silhouette
In the crucible of morning
the sun rises like a flock of golden doves
but i cannot embrace the racing arc of dawn
Though through the viridian canopy
---shimmering coins
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2015
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Chris Johnston Poem
I am the star shot flare
born in heat and shrapnel
a screaming tunnel where
landscapes blur and vector
into breathless lines.
an arc of howling friction
riding the effervescent foam
of a burning star.
---trembling trajectory
---breakneck rattle
too-soon-too-soon
glint of the horizon
wailing vomit streaked sky
converging into the dawn
my momentum --- a breathless gasp
my life-- a ragged blur
My Flame
Lost-In-The-Light
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2015
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Chris Johnston Poem
Let us take the time to live
To be free, my love
With no plans and no routine
We can re-imagine our life
Come to me, I’m here
All that’s missing is you
Nothing is impossible, everything is allowed
Come over here, listen to the murmured words
On the other side of the month of May
They make us the promise
That everything will fade one day
Come to me, I’m here
All that’s missing is you
Nothing is impossible, everything is allowed
Let us take the time to live
To be free, my love
With no plans and no routine
We can re-imagine our life
---Georges Moustaki
Translated by C. Johnston
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2020
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Chris Johnston Poem
I’ve dreamed of you so much,
I’ve walked so much, talked so much,
Loved your shadow so much,
That I have nothing left of you.
All I can do is be a shadow among the shadows,
To be one hundred times more shadow than a shadow,
To be the shadow that will come and go
In your sun-spangled life.
--Robert Desnos
Translated by Christopher Johnston
LE DERNIER POÈME
J’ai rêvé tellement fort de toi,
J’ai tellement marché, tellement parlé,
Tellement aimé ton ombre,
Qu’il ne me reste plus rien de toi.
Il me reste d’être l’ombre parmi les ombres,
D’être cent fois plus ombre que l’ombre,
D’être l’ombre qui viendra et reviendra
Dans ta vie ensoleillée.
--Robert Desnos
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2020
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Chris Johnston Poem
From afar, a green sea;
up close, a twisted snarl of brittle waves.
textured walls reach out and oppress
mildew whips of flora flotsam fauna jetsam in my face
echoing shadows follow in waking eddies
shrill light on a myriad of eyelids that flutter as I pass.
MY BROTHERS.
blind fingertips of rain stream in my eyes, as cacophonous shadows lead me through improbable passages the naked eye cannot discern;
bathed in clarion surges of gold, a seabed of mist reflected from the deep.
This is the cauldron...
my arms reach out painfully to scoop up blind tears in the green sea, but a faceless monstrosity wails in solitude, denser and denser as I go, oppressed heartbeat of light through tall trees.
Breathless, bursting, cords of light fall from the heights, he then fell and his eyes filled with sand.
MY BROTHERS --- there cannot be one when there is one because without two, there are no numbers, and the one is no one and everyone --- fraternal eternal -- and rebirth billows through the mist in a distant voice, beckoning me on.
The Cauldron...
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2021
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Chris Johnston Poem
---relentless sweep of time---
sparks in the expanse
our lives, brief segments,
rocket sections discarded:
a single cell in the grand coil
a cog within the wheel
a fleeting breath
bound to the rhythm of birth and death
ephemeral flame
lighthouse swallowed by fog
moth on the flame's edge
each life a note in humanity's song
a dance of light and shadow
every step oblivion
a price to pay
I paid the price
---relentless sweep of time---
Copyright © Chris Johnston | Year Posted 2024
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