desire, 092101

i have stumbled over these words
a thousand times
changed the rhythm
the method
the delivery
the rhyme
but find that the meaning is inevitably clear
no matter which way it is said
the truth still adheres:

i want you

want you to find your poetry in me
to translate my heart though melody
and pronounce the same phonetically

i want you
to stimulate me
without ever needing your touch

i want you

there is no easier way to say it
and the advances i relay portray it
it not hidden
nor forbidden
unless another wants you identically

if so
she need not react to my confession violently
i was simply unaware of your emotion identity
whether you were committed by bondage
or taken hostage
or if you truly enjoyed being captive to her kiss

if that kind of ecstacy between the two of you exists
i will honorably retreat

warehouse this adamant affection
like some age-old remedy
waiting for you silently
until you feel the time is right

and though that time may not be tonight
let it be known

i want you

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.



this lie perpetrates yet another conspiracy
and this conspiracy only lends to another lie
and i
try to pretend i am fond
of your not being here with me
near with me
but it inevitably contributes to a fear in me
with which, i am unable to bear

and it’s not fair
that we love solitarily
accompanied only by the four walls
that surround as well as divide us

when repeatedly
i’ve tried to put the past behind us
learn to trust instead of lust
but where vivid memories once existed
only pictures dare remind us

it’s frustrating
to think of my heart’s sedating
the central piece of me
growing numb
to the thought of your touch

and it’s such that drives me to my doom
don’t want to be the only one left in the room
once you’ve decided my time is up

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.



the only think i can count on
is time
and even time conspires against me

funny how an infantry of seconds
can lodge itself between then

making yesterday
seem like yesteryear
and as if tomorrow
will never arrive

his promises remain
on the tip of my memory
constantly beckoning me
into his grasp

but my faith hasn’t healed just yet
and i believe these scars
will prove evidence enough
to the local authorities
and he will be captured
before the night’s end

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.


all growed up

if it’s a game you want
then it’s a game you’ll get

let’s play pretend:

let’s pretend that you love me
that seconds are the carriers of our affection
and each other is all we have worth holding on to

let’s make believe that the sun rotates around us solely
and we generate our own gravity
that hugs create multi-dimensional solar systems
and eclipses are the only publicly visible sightings of our kisses
that us being nude does not necessarily contribute to our being naked
and vulnerability invades only our dreams

let’s imagine that we are friends
and you pick and name stars after me
and i?
i’ll act as if i know where each one is
should you ever ask

let’s count snowflakes
and mini marshmallows in our hot chocolate
sing happy birthdays and christmas carols
watch television over cold pizza and flat sodas
till slumber discovers us

let’s conjure oceans of strawberry scented bubble baths
novels of cartoon strips
and champagne of orange kool-aid

let’s envision that telephone call conversations
are just us two holding hands over whatever distance
is between us
that we tuck each other in every night
and kiss each other every morn

or better yet…
let’s first pretend you
know my name

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.


virgin, 042701

he is a virgin to the truth

he handpicks fabrications
from an unmarked garden

places them in a basket
set them at my feet

encourages a feeding

but i am not hungry
for this food
so selfishly provided

the truth could not possibly grow here

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.


there is no honour in his lies

only masked configurations of the truth

if you can call it that


he speaks in tongues
only decipherable
through translation

but even still

i do not understand
these lies

© 1979 Daria Johnson. All Rights Reserved.