In the Details

Posted on by shawnjohnson78

Finished my second short film and it has been accepted for a screening at the San Diego Film Consortium! I’m strangely proud of this because it is only the second thing I’ve ever filmed. Please check it out and let me know what you think. Cheers! https://youtu.be/Y6L0ZLSmxPE

Cotton

Posted on by shawnjohnson78

Cotton
Every day I lie here, unblinking but ever watchful. I bore witness to Christie through her highs and lows, childhood to adulthood, life and now…
They gave us eyes. It was a cruel joke that they weren’t aware of, I suppose, but it hurts no less. Perched forever in one pose, arms spread wide in a gesture of love. But love fades for those of us with nothing more to offer. Our affection remains eternal while those around us wanes with the ever changing season. At one point in her life she told me everything that weighed heavily on her mind. My stomach was wet with tears during the turbulent teenage years and I was tossed up in the air as a parent would a child during the halcyon days. Tea time and night time were my favorite times. I assumed I would be given to her child; become part of a family tradition, but that seems highly unlikely now. She cries a lot now. They leave the TV on and I can hear it and lately she has been holding me again. A strange feeling to have the grown up version of the little girl hug me as though she were a child again. A heavy weight to bear, expectations…
The world shakes more now. Christie and her family left the house weeks ago. In there scramble to escape they must have forgotten me. It seems dark all the time now. The windows have long since shattered but there is never a morning. The house creaks and dust settles upon my eyes and fur. I feel like I should cry; I want to cry, but they didn’t make me like that. If only I could have stored her tears in my stomach for use today, but…
I remain here, ever vigilant for their return that I know will never come. The end is here for them. I don’t think it is for me. I don’t think I can die. So I’ll wait. A sentinel and witness of the end.

My Job

Posted on by shawnjohnson78

I stare and stare,

the glare the glare.

A blank page glowing,

illuminating my failure

to produce a sentence,

or even a word.

Just one word.

I am mocked by my own mind.

I type the first thing to flitter,

the keystrokes clicking in approval

and suddenly the screen isn’t blank anymore.

“Blank” is the word I choose.

The curser reminds me

its waiting.

I close my eyes to remember more words.

But it seems I’ve forgotten

every word I’ve ever learned and

my head starts to hurt.

I tap the keys again but without pressure,

hoping the mimicry will

prompt fleeting muse to nurse this dying prose.

And maybe she does.

Maybe she doesn’t.

But I start typing again.

Words become sentences and

sentences become landscapes

tempting characters to explore.

My eyes see the screen filling

but nothing more than that.

Whatever I’m looking at is in my head

fighting for a way out.

There is power in my fingertips now.

Power to create.

Power to destroy.

I Remember…

Posted on by shawnjohnson78

Summer brings with it many spectacles.

Idiots racing cars

that have been in storage for the winter.

Clothing that made you

look less of an abominable monster while waiting

for the school bus

and long days of unbearable heat.

When I was 11,

right before I started to know it all,

I found joy in running in fields

as the sun began to slide down

like it did every time,

and watching the light show.

Like faulty wiring in a house

flickering on and off,

Fireflies or lightning bugs (depending on who you ask)

in a melody only they could hear

lit up warm nights.

Mama would give us jars

so we could catch them.

We give them names and then before their lights faltered

she’d make us let them go.

Then we were outside again, resolute.

My dad on the porch,

a brown paper bag with his 2a.m. lunch,

and a coffee before he’d go to work for the night.

He would always smile

and ask me the names of my new friends.

In a field, for a few hours every night

I was popular.

My friends glowed.

And so did I.