Brian Johnston Poems

I can hate things you value and still think you're worthy
of friendship, of honor, though we disagree,
but communities call for reciprocal action;
I can't tie your hands and pretend you're not me!
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(A Haiku Trilogy)

Stage 1
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Dream, I thought of a lifetime,
Where did it go to,
Gift, that once brought me such joy,
How do things like this happen, with no ill intent,
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Every poem you write, a universe (and just your creation)
Yet somehow I'm free there to follow my dreams
And this freedom you give (child of imagination)
Reflected back to you by my mirror of being,
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Should have written this much sooner,
Now there's just too much to say,
Even love-sick honeymooner
Wouldn't leave his Mom this way.
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It's a pooible idea that we set our love aside,
It's a pooible idea that we need to take a break,
It's a pooible idea that our time has come and gone,
It's a pooible idea that love's hiding in forsake...
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The longing for joy does not serve us well
When it blinds us to other emotions.
We stumble to think mere absence of pain
Would be heav'n (fear to drown in life's oceans) .
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It never is an easy ride
And I don't mean to deride,
But your imaginative sense,
Far exceeds experience.
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Tell me I'm beautiful,
Share with me that you're blue,
But pretend that you care.
Dismiss lies with a wink,
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‘If not for you ‘Bri' I might have hated all men'
Sobering words my ‘little sis' said to me,
But just where it happened, or even when,
Is a window through which I can't see.
...