At Sullivans Cafe (a villanelle)

At Sullivans Café (villanelle)

Remember sitting around the table,
Hanging out at Sullivans Cafe,
You and John and Victoria and me?

We'd talk of politics and war.
What we would do to save the world,
Remember sitting around the table?

Our voices rose in excitement
The drinks flowed fast and free,
You and John and Victoria and me.

Sometimes others joined in with us.
Opinions argued debated free,
Remember sitting around the table?

We didn’t always agree on things.
But the friendship remained true,
You and John and Victoria and me.

Time moved on. Now we're fifty something,
John passed away but still with us even now.
Remember sitting around the table,
You and John and Victoria and me?

Prayers

PRAYERS

You say you will pray for me
Because I attend no church
That I have no god to save me
No hope for eternal life.

I say my church is the mother earth
Who nourishes our bodies and souls,
With food and water,
With the sun and moon.

My prayers are the songs of the bird,
The rain drops that feed the earth,
The chirps of the crickets at night,
The sound of a baby’s first cry.

My salvation is the wing of the bird
As it flies across the blue white skies
It is in the fire of the sun
That warms our earth each day.

My soul is hope, my prayer is peace,
My salvation is love for the human race,
My prayer is that mother earth will
Continue to care for us even while we destroy her.

Erin Go Bragh

Erin Go Bragh

My mother wasn’t born in Ireland,
But Ireland is in her blood,
The legacy of her father,
And his father before him.

The songs of Ireland were shared,
My youth shaped by graceful lyrics,
Lilting notes of lullabies,
As me mother sang me off to sleep.

(sing)
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby."

And the melancholy melodies,
Would fill the Irish heart.
Yet their lilting laughter,
Could lift you and carry you away.

Ah, yes, the Irish have the fighting spirit,
Yet, the drink moves them to sing,
Of Kilgary Mountain or Lanigans ball,
With a song in their heart and tear drop in their eye.

(sing)
When Irish eyes are laughing
All the world seems bright and gay,
And when Irish eyes are crying,
Sure, they steal your heart away.

But, aye, they could dance
The Irish jig to hearty tunes,
While the penny whistle bands,
Kept their feet a-flying high.

And, aye, the Irish are sentimental,
For their hearts are soft and pure,
As they sing of Kilkarney,
Or Cockles and muscles alive alive-0.

(sing)
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels, alive, alive-O!
Alive, alive-O! alive, alive-O!

The wild thyme so precious and rare,
Fills the air with scents so sweet,
And the rocky road to Dublin,
Leads you home again.

The mountains of Irish heather,
Surrounded by meadows of green,
The homeland of my ancestors,
Now does call to me.

Erin go Bragh

Duct Tape

Duct Tape by Bonnie Johnson - 02/07

When the water hose broke,
She didn’t panic,
Knew just what to do,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

She never worried
Duct tape sticks to everything,
Even mends a rip in a
Car seat a child put there.

As her life slowly fell apart,
She knew how to fix what broke,
The pipe under the kitchen sink,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

Her husband never noticed,
When she went into her own world,
As long as dinner was done,
He just didn’t care.

The washing machine leaked,
But not for long,
Out came her trusty roll,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

Some days her world would spin,
Circles around her mind,
Leaving her dizzy and lost,
Reality too much to bear.

A lose attachement on the tv,
The picture lost in snow and fuzz,
She made it right again,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

As the connections in her brain,
Began to short and fail her,
No one paid attention as she,
Spun further from control.

When anything got broken,
They brought it to her to fix,
They knew she could do it,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

The children would scream,
Demand their own way,
Quietly she would let her mind
Take her to a world far away.

And if they broke a toy,
Or ripped a book,
She could fix it all,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

Even as her mind began to crack,
At times failed her completely,
Leaving her confused
She knew what to do.

When her mind finally broke,
She looked at me blankly
As they took her away,
Duct tape fixes everything she said.

The Power of Love

The Power of Love by Bonnie Johnson - Feb. 2007

He told me, if he died first, he would come back for me.
I would laugh and tell him
I’d believe it when it happened.
I have learned now to never doubt the power of love.

On March 24th one of my cats passed away
On March 27th I had a dream that my cat was crying
I had to find him. When I found the cat
He turned into my best friend, Rick.

He was lying there crying. He said he was sorry.
I woke up and later that morning
Received a call from his wife.
Rick had passed away in the night.

He told me he would come back for me
and I laughed. Never doubt the power of love.
That night Rick came to me in my dreams
He told me he was taking me with him.

After a forty-two year relationship
Where we would vacillate between lovers
And friends, he couldn’t go on
Into the after life with out me.

He put me on a bike and had me
Riding down a mountain pass.
He watched on as a truck plowed
Down the mountain, out of control,

It headed right towards me.
At the last second I was able to jump
Off the bike out of the path of the truck.
But he wouldn’t give up.

He wasn’t ready to let me out of his life.
Even if it was the after-life.
I found myself back on the mountain pass,
But this time with a group of people protesting.

I was never quite sure what
We were protesting, but there he sat,
In his wheelchair watching and waiting.
A fire broke out in the trees around us

It quickly worked its way to the mountain pass.
I ran and ran! My legs moved faster
Than I ever thought they could.
I literally ran for my life.

Then I was off the mountain
I found myself in a building.
He told me to follow him.
We could be together forever.

Taking me to a window I looked out.
I realized we were very high above a city.
I could barely make out the traffic below.
“Follow me,” he said. “It’s safe. You can do it.”

Then he rolled out the window and was gone.
I backed away quickly and woke up.
But it was over for the night.
I felt he had been given three tries

To get me to go and then he had
To leave without me.
He was sad I hadn’t chosen to go with him,
I told him I would join him when my time came.

Until then he could visit in my dreams
Whenever he chose if he agreed to never try
To take me before my time again.
He has chosen to visit and mostly

We play guitars and sing old songs.
We remember the happier times of our youth.
He told me if he died first he would come back for me.
I have learned to never doubt the power of love.

My Poems

These are the poems I shared at open mic tonight. I am working on a second book of poems, for publication, and this will be the lead in poem.

My Poems

I am not a prolific poet,
Each poem is a labor of love
Each is like a child to me
Wondering from the conception
Will it be born perfect
Or will it be like me, flawed and imperfect.
Some say the pain is in holding
The poem inside until they can
Put the words in print and read them out loud.
For me the pain is baring myself naked,
Letting my feelings stand defenseless
Before you to be embraced or rejected.
Each word, each line, each stanza,
Struggles to be born.
Inside the words are soft and hushed,
But in black ink on white paper
They are stark and vulnerable at once.
Now they are no longer images
Hiding, snuggled in my thoughts,
But words, real words representing
What hides innermost in me
And I am not ready yet to expose
Myself, to stand naked before you,
There are some things that should
Remain private, remain mine alone.
They are my treasures, my gems,
They are my alms, my gifts,
To hold close and cherish
And share when the time is right.
These are my children,
My labors of love,
These are my poems.

This is the poem I wrote to welcome in 2007.

Happy New Year?

A new year has dawned
And I can only wonder
What have we done to
Change the world for the better?

Have we accomplished peace?
Ended hunger? Ended hatred?
Or did we once again
Leave a bloodstained legacy?

The year ended and another
Began leaving us immersed
In what was and
What we hope will be.

Now we must each
Look into our hearts
Into our souls to find
A new promise of hope.

Did we learn our lesson
As the sun lay dying?
The bitter cold of life
Stilling us from moving forward.

Perhaps we should not wish
Such futile words as
Happy New Year when
No hope endures within.

Are they more than cheap wishes?
Or a substitute for the truth?
Are they merely nice words
We speak hoping they’ll come true?

Yes, a new year has begun,
And we will pay the price for hope,
With lives lost and dreams destroyed
My country tis of the sweet land of liberty

Of thee we sing poised on the future
Imprisoned by the past
The years turn with hypnotic grace,
We wait to see what fate will bring.

Love Means Nothing

As a young girl reading
The romance novels found
Hidden under my mothers
Bed or on the closet shelf

I thought love must be
Found through ribbons
Pulled from hair too
Tightly pulled back

Or ripped bodices
When rough manly
Hands turned your anger
Into a passionate kiss

That later you would
Try to pretend didn’t happen
Because after all he was
The villain in the story.

And you the poor young
Heroine who in the end
Would triumph over defeat
And win the love of a

Gallant and true gentleman.
Of course, later you would
Find the one you reviled
Was the lord of the manor

And you would feel betrayed
That he had led you on,
In the end though he would
Prevail and win your heart

While you protested your love
For him but then you
You and he would embrace
And walk off into the sunset together.

But, as I grew older I understood
Those were the fantasies of
Frustrated housewives who dreamt
Of bare-chested heroes rescuing them.
From their lives of boredom
And that in reality love is
Nothing more than caring, giving
Accepting that no one is perfect

That love is not violent,
Has nothing to do with money,
Bare chests, ribbons,
Or ripped bodices.

The reality is that real love is
Often not fair or returned
But still worth the effort to
Pursue and cherish when found.

And to fill in some time while Karleigh worked on getting the individual line poem together I read the following - a bit strange but...

Cat Dreams

In my dream or state of dream
The cats lead me to a strange,
Dark abandoned place where
Lions and rhinos live behind

A fence of barbed wire and chain
There is no escape up the wall
Of stone and I stand and face
Them head on – eye to eye

They back down and move
To let me see the secret that
They guard so loyally
A secret that ought not be shared.

I am tired, travel weary,
Worn from exhausted flight,
Wanting only for the dream to end
And peaceful sleep to come to me.

But the secret waits and I must see
With eyes that will not lie
I approach them ever closer
Fearing not their horn and claws

Soon it will be mine to hold
To share or keep as see fit
With excitement I move closer still
Anticipating the knowledge held

Secret within their strange domain.
But as I am within range of owning
This secret held so dear
The alarm awakens me and pulls

Me into an awakened state
Where stark reality awaits.
There is no secret waiting,
No magical light does shine.

Just the cats sitting, staring,
Demanding to be fed,
Wanting me to either pet them
Or get my butt up out of bed!

Ein Bahn Strasse

Ein Bahn Strasse

You call shortly after your son is born,
Except for your young husband,
You are alone in a foreign country,
Will I come for a visit?

I ask my boss for two weeks off,
February is my birthday month,
He’s from Germany, he gives me a month
Tells me two weeks is not enough.

On the ride from Frankfurt to Weisbaden,
We have time to catch up,
To talk of the family, giggle,
And just enjoy being together again.

Reminiscent of our walks around Erie, PA
We walk the streets of Weisbaden,
The baby in a backpack, we experience the city,
Your son sleeps, his head nestled on your back.

It’s so different from home, yet so familiar.
Houses built against each other,
No room for backyards or swing sets,
The buildings old yet beautiful.

The air is cold and bitter,
We sip strong hot coffee,
Our cheeks are rosy from the cold,
We laugh and walk and talk.

Die baby’s Kalte one woman says,
I touch his cheek warm from sleep,
He’s bundled in the back pack,
The knit hat you made him on his head.

We sample the dark German chocolates,
Take turns carrying your son,
We walk until we’re exhausted,
“I think we’re lost,” you say.

“No, we can’t be,” I tell you,
“We’ve been on the same street.”
“What’s the name of it?” you ask
“Ein Bahn Strasse.” I reply.

You laugh, “We’re lost,” you say.
That means one way street!
We both laugh, ask directions,
Find our way back to your apartment.

The month passes too quickly,
I find myself at the airport,
Announcements come in a language,
I still don’t understand.

You stand there alone,
In a foreign country,
Surrounded by strangers,
Your son sleeps, his head nestled on your back.

Twixt the Waxing and the Waning

TWIXT THE WAXING AND THE WANING

Twixt the waxing and the waning,
The moon quarters, halves,
Then once full tis time for
Spirits to dance upon the night.

Keep watch! Keep silent!
Fear not but do not speak,
Do not let them know you watch,
As they dance upon the night.

For ye will see what mortals,
Dare not admit exist,
The magic of the mystical,
As they dance upon the night.

As spirits speak though they are dead,
And cast spells upon the earth,
Beware the spells don’t land on you,
As they dance upon the night.

Incantations ye shall hear,
Words you will not understand,
Be careful ye don’t speak the words,
As they dance upon the night.

Tis the night for spirits to roam,
And witches fly across the moon,
Their cackling laugh will chill you,
As they dance upon the night.

You may want to lock your doors,
Hide behind the walls of stone,
But if ye dare, ye will watch in awe
As they dance upon the night.

So keep your children safe inside,
Your loved ones hidden from their sight,
And ye alone shall watch and learn,
And you’ll dance upon the night.

Calculate That!

My husband is a math teacher and has never come to my poetry
nights, because as he says he isn't into words. But he did
Challenge me that if I could write a poem using math he would
come. Be careful what you ask for....

CALCULATE THAT

If X equals me
And Y equal you
Then X + Y
Equals me and you.

But if Y is
Dividing itself by 2
Then X isn’t getting
100% of you.

You say at 59
You’re in your prime
Well honey listen to me
Things aren’t what they used to be

Did you ask what’s your cosine
What’s your angle?
Don’t get your undies
All in a tangle

You aren’t the only one
With a young one on the side
And baby mine takes me
On an all night ride

And remember this old axiom’s true
18 goes into 59 more times
Than 59 goes into 18
Absolute value rules!

Piecewise the variables work for me,
Your expression I calculate
Is finally seeing the formula
Seeing how I equate

That if X = me
And Y= you
X - Y equals
Me minus you.

Calculate that!

Autumn Equinox

Autumn Equinox

Come all and share in the harvest,
Prepare for the winters cold winds,
Tonight we are the harvesters and hunters,
The light of the water and earth.

We will cut the willows,
Gather seeds and pods,
Grapes for our winter wine,
Give offerings to the land.

Give praise to Mabon and Modron
God and Goddess of the harvest,
Honor the ones who left this land,
With apples upon their graves.

Together we walk the forest,
Gather dried plants and herbs,
Fill our baskets with the offerings,
Passion flower, sage, rose, and myrrh.

Our friends the wolves and eagles,
All animals of the forest and skies,
Share in our harvest as they too
Prepare for the winter to come.

We will feast upon cornbread.
Squash, grains and berries,
Drink wine and ale to hearts content,
Sleep a good sleep,

For soon the autumn will end,
The harvest will be over,
The gods and goddesses be praised,
As winter blankets the earth.

No Apologies

No Apologies

Say what you want about me,
They are only words,
I am who I am
No apologies

I may be different than you,
Look different,
Think differently,
No apologies.

Our beliefs may differ,
Thoughts wander different paths,
Yet we can find common ground,
No apologies.

I don’t ask you to believe
Everything I say, think, or feel,
Just to see me,
No apologies.

There are no incriminations,
No saying you are wrong,
Just saying I am me,
No apologies.

You may listen to others,
Put me down for being me,
Telling stories you may believe,
No apologies.

Just listen to your heart,
You know who I am,
You know me,
No apologies.

In Kindergarten

Kindergarten

In kindergarten we learned the ABC’s,
That naps were good and were often
Followed by cookies and milk
And a wonderful story time.

In kindergarten we learned to share,
Our toys and to play with others,
That finger painting was messy
And oh! So much fun!

In kindergarten we learned to be polite,
To say please, and thank you,
Excuse me and bless you!
When someone sneezed!

In kindergarten we learned whispering
And telling secrets about another
Wasn’t nice and wasn’t how
Good people acted towards others.

In kindergarten we learned to
Take our muddy shoes off
Before entering the room
So not to track dirt on the floor.

In kindergarten we learned
Teachers were to be respected
To listen when they spoke,
To learn what they taught.

In kindergarten we learned
We could make new friends,
But the old friends would
Still be there when we got home.

In kindergarten we learned making cards
For our parents was fun and
Our parents liked them! The
Gift meant more than the cost.

In kindergarten we learned
To clean up our messes when done,
To put away our toys
Or crayons, scissors and paper.

In kindergarten we learned not to
Talk behind others backs or to
Tell stories to their friends,
To make them not like them.

In kindergarten we learned
We didn’t judge each other,
But accepted each other
As we were for who we were.

In kindergarten our fights were
Over who got the red or blue crayon,
Not over who voted red or blue,
Or what government policy was right.

In kindergarten the teacher
Settled the dispute and we
Accepted the decision and
Went on with our play.

Sometimes I wish we could
All go back to kindergarten.

I Wish

I WISH

Sometimes I wish my thoughts were deep,
That my words would make people think,
Make them ooh and aah,
Be amazed by my mind!

I wish I could write of war and peace,
Of Xanadu and beyond,
Talk about the stars and moon,
Of deep space, black holes and Mars.

I wish my words would flow,
Like a river of honey sweet,
And could melt your minds and hearts,
Make you taste and smell and see.

I wish I were politically savvy,
Could write a poem to end all wars,
And make the politicians hear,
And make them care about the things they do.

I wish I could write of poverty,
Of injustice and hardship,
Of struggle for freedom and,
Somehow with my words make it right.

I wish I my poetry would make people understand,
Religion isn’t meant to be used,
In anger and hatred and killing,
But to love your neighbor as yourself.

I wish my words could get the world together,
To understand we are all different,
That cultures need not clash,
But could blend and enrich each other.

But I’m not a complex person,
My poems and words are simple ones,
So while my poetry will never rock the world,
I will share it and my love with you.