Gail lives in Miami; recording as Gail Warning, she has released two albums - Independent and Season of the Soul, which are both available on Amazon, cdbaby and elsewhere. The pieces below have never been published before and were written at various points over the last few years. From the second onwards they were uploaded onto this site in October 2015; the first piece is the latest upload, and was written three years ago in response to my describing to Gail one of my visits to the grave of Sylvia Plath in Heptonstall, West Yorks.
I am honoured to be publishing Gail's poetry.
For Simon
Dreams of blackened rain
How does one find forgiveness
In the well of pain
Strew blood red petals
On the cold grey stone in the rain
Remind her that her life was not in vain
Anger
These flames never dance
They swagger in burning up
The floor between us
Fake Jewel
Glistening ruby
Liquid crimson promises
Nothing but heartburn
Freedom
When I remembered
What actually happened
The criminal was caught
Picking Blackberries
She's a purple kind of girl
she's got violets in her hair
she lilac's ambition
she's black & blue berry aware
she's grown tired of the red game
dodging flags and ground to halt
always madder than a hatter
building shelters on the fault
she's been wary of the verdant
forest stripped of all its trees
and the blinding green awareness
of her petty jealousies
whiter than the avalanches
blacker than the ashen soot
grayer than all the confusion
covering her head to foot
sweet and succulent and tempting
glistening blackberry fruit
gnarled and twisted, deep and stubborn
that same thorned blackberry root.
Extreme Stream Dream
If this island was an ocean but no deeper than a puddle
I would meet you in the middle we could contemplate this riddle
we could skip across the desert with our favorite cup of tea
there is no one I would rather have to come along with me
we could muse about the poets Edgar Alan and the rest
sepulchristic visionaries never take a moment's rest
if it really doesn't matter that you're here and I am far
if the closest you come to me is by satellite or star
I will always hold you near me where noone can ever see
where the numbers match the letters of encoded destiny
pour the wax before the waning
join the latch and guard the key
treasure all in the safekeeping
where it burns eternally.
© Gail Sherman Johnson
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