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Best Poems Written by Johanne Deschamps

Below are the all-time best Johanne Deschamps poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Mother's Day

I thought of you this morning Ma, as I do most every day.
I miss the crazy things you did, your laughter and your way.

Your sunny disposition, your optimistic light.
Remembering the songs you used to sing to us at night....zzzz

And now I must, "Get on with it", as you would like to say.
Just had to say I Love You, because it's Mothers Day.

By Johanne R. Deschamps

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Brother

Brother

Brother, we were both betrayed.
We lost our childhood quickly.
Now our lives are disarrayed,
twisted, torn and sickly.

Now middle aged and still we’re lost,
not knowing where to turn.
Surely we have paid the cost,
the bitter sting, the burn.

Drinking, drugs and therapy,
denial and delusion.
Some for you and some for me,
but still there’s no illusion.

I have to watch you kill yourself
With magic little potions.
As for me, my drug of choice,
my torrent of emotions.

Nothing seems to work for us.
We search for resolution.
Like a wound all red with pus,
still seeking a solution.

Let’s carry on dear, day to day
and plod through our existence.
I wish you luck on your merry way,
the way of least resistance.

As for me I’ll struggle through.
Try not to cry too often.
I pray to God for me and you,
Our landing he will soften.

Johanne R Deschamps

Previously published in Survivor Today Magazine

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Appreciation

A gentle day,
mild waves roll in
on the beach
of Belleview Bay.
The sun comes and goes
away, away...
Trees barely moving
as I contemplate
life, death.
I hear swings
behind me in the park.
Birds circling overhead
as if to say,
“Welcome to my beach
today, today...”
Inviting me to take it in.
A precarious position.
Sloosh, sloosh.
A gentle breeze.
I feel alive
for now, for now...
So relaxed here
just for a time,
to feel existence,
something we seldom do.
Such a gift
for now at least
it’s new, it’s new...


Johanne R. Deschamps

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My Friends

Paper and pen are my very best friends.
They listen when I’m blue.
They don’t talk back or give me flack
but, always let me spew.

Blue or black, it matters not,
the color of my ink.
Even when there’s no reply,
They really make me think.

We’ve been through a lot my friends;
laughter, shame and tears.
Even when I’m at my worst,
You’ve seen me through the years.

Our friendship is a cherished love
I keep within my heart.
Although the years may change us all,
We’ll never, ever part.

Johanne R. Deschamps

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The Scribe

A soul, poured onto a clean sheet 
Sharing, private thoughts,
Telling, secrets.
Now, black and white.
Salty tears on the rough.
Yet the clean sheet shows no imperfections.
A life spread across the page.
The life of a writer.
Submit, submit, and submit.
Should you give up?
No, not yet. I know,
I know it’s important.
Sharing and baring.
Yet, still, many rejections.
I will hang my head tonight.
Tomorrow, I shall 
do it all again.

Johanne R. Deschamps