Acquainted with you again; truly, you are no new companion because I have shared moments of reason, laughter and sadness with you for many, many years. But now, called into question by this new state, I ask myself more truthfully: can I recognise you any longer? You seem very different this time around. The state I find myself misleads; I work reasonably to find a way around it. But as I get to witness more states around, I realise ever-static banalities which shaped past encounters and meanings. Now I find that very interesting. By Emmanuel Johnson
belonging
States of fantasy
The surreal state; an alternate rendition of how things could be right now. Some I see, vastly different, others, fairly similar to the current state. Oh the day shall come when I shall grab that piece to behold, for every time I have sat to conceive of utopia. The new state I contemplate, amidst its grandeur, frightens me, as I attempt to bring it to being. Living my fair share of states humbly, brings to mind, continuously, that, despite my fear, this and this surely is what I genuinely desire. By Emmanuel Johnson
Finding joy
Inflicted with deep restlessness; I realise a desire for something eternal in being; to put in plain words. Words simply cannot: they fail to express. I try my very best, but I am unable to: I fail to communicate. But I know a knowing; very true and trustworthy; which never fails; who always whispers: there is that cosmic unity between us, which nothing, no one, can take away. No one can, for I have beheld true joy. I have beheld true joy. By Emmanuel Johnson
The situation of the cancelled
In the obscurity of this island, I find surrounded, isolated clutters of thought and intent. Lord, I have been rejected by those who once claimed to care. I am trying to connect to the best of me. But I recognise the war waging on the inside. This something within, has been decided as the whole of me. When in truth, it is only a fraction. I have had plenty of time to reflect, and I acknowledge all of my ways. Now, in the final analysis and dawning of this day, I am compelled to ask myself the question: what becomes of the cancelled? By Emmanuel Johnson
There came a time
Searching for something; unaware I was and what it was. Watching days pass like shifting shadows; viewing time in front, side, and back. Looking vaguely for long, being misled by false acuity. The links disconnected and then I saw, my severed paradigm. Would you talk to me, my dear paradigm? How I need you now, my dear paradigm. Your love stayed strong, even when I faltered. And now I see, that secret understanding between us, which you tried to make me see earlier. Oh how illusioned I was, my redemptive paradigm. By Emmanuel Johnson
Trips, memory and imagination
Straight in; not a long trip, I feel it substantially. Not long after, another trip. Fast paced service, dizzy delivery. I'm speeding down an unknown lane, going somewhere I've never been. I'm not alone; a very familiar companion by my side, and my mind, and in here too. I arrive, I am alive, I feel it substantially. I get to see you again, I am happy; I feel it substantially. This place has a feel to it, I spend considerable time with you in it. But not for long. I leave, but I get to see you again. Oh how you've changed, things are quite different now. I feel it deeply. By Emmanuel Johnson
One thing truly never left
This new journey of mine, I have treaded; still treading. Treading never ending. Well, so it seems. My days have been favoured coatings, flavoured blisters in my mind, ever pushing. Filters I now find, ever reminding, like I ever forgot. Well, maybe I did. Filters crying out; every now and then; never forget why you parted; this is all you truly wanted. To live the life in the count, and walk the walk on the mount. Living the life in the count, walking the walk on the mount. By Emmanuel Johnson
Morning sessions
This regret of mine, oh this regret, words not said, feelings not felt. I try to be the best that I can be, my effort laid to waste by this trip. I wish I could slip to retrace time. I was alive, in the moment, but empty now. You filled me, but all I am now is hollow; a hole where my heart was, in this time apart. Regrets persist, I know I must, let go. But to lose this feeling, this sadness, is to lose you. To choose you or do I choose me? By Adetiloye, Maybelle, Emmanuel Johnson
Everything is meaningless
Till and toil the soil, for you never know what you might find. Till and toil the soil, toil and sorrow till sun up. Sorrow for tomorrow, for now, then later. Then later, much later, comes the smiles that waver, pain for so little gain; was it worth it? I ask. Down the road, not far, I know a thing that sparks. Not too far I promise, a gem that sparks. Though life doesn’t seem a walk in the park, The feel I feel, is what I must lay. Because life comes with it swirls and whirls, and in the midst of the wind and grind; some fun I must find. By Maybelle, Emmanuel Johnson, Adetiloye
Revelation in thine
Running down the isle of hope, I fall beneath the murky waters of doubt. Trying to hold onto the steady branches of faith, I slip into the warmth of you. Holding onto the tendrils of grace, bewildered by the sprite of your face. Your life, your all, I feel your everything; your wings beneath my feet lifting me high, above the skies, above the tides. And on the day, in time and space when salvation shall come, I shall behold your love. By Emmanuel Johnson, Adetiloye, Maybelle.
Emmanuel Johnson 