"Word Intoxication" by Ruth Johnston Book Trailer

Wildernesschic Poetry Recital - So Many Little Shoes

This is the one poem I regret leaving out of my book.
Book two maybe ...

From the black and white picture,

I will never forget.

The Angel haired girl,
standing out from the rest.

Her innocent face,
looking so out of place.

All down to a question of race.

What happened my darling,

where do you rest,

did you shower with your mummy,

or were you saved for the test ?

"Arbeit Macht Frei" 
said only in jest.

Did you friends turn against you,

Why, 

what did you do?

Forced to leave forever,
the only life that you knew.

All you held dear,
overnight disappeared.

What were they doing,
why were you there?

Men, 
to the left. 
Women, 
to the right.

Pretty face so confused.
Eyes wide,
with fright

"What's happening Mummy?"

You had not a clue.

To me, 
you were beautiful.
To them,
just a Jew..

So many questions.
Yet nothing to do,

but to remember forever,
those thousands of shoes.

Once belonging to people,
just like you and I,

taken away by the call of
 "Sieg Heil"

Painted Smile

I hold inside 
an overwhelming urge
to weep.
Do I throw it
or do I keep?

Indulge those tears
over wasted years.
Cry away 
tortured 
twisting
nurturing those fears.

Or do I swallow 
straighten.
Paint on that smile,
bury them deep.
Once again 
my secret I do keep. 

Time To Say Goodbye

This poem is dedicated to my friend and her children who have  recently lost, their father in a tragic accident.

I held no desire to shrivel and fade
Unable to walk or eat without aid
No wish to dribble upon my chin
whilst silently squirming
from deep within.

I have passed
please accept it
I’m no longer 
Move on
Just let me be
as this is my wish
for you to be free.

Feel my caress with the morning sun
and remember these words
direct from my tongue.
Stop crying,
I am fine
Now go... and have
a bloody good time!

First Review

The Book

Please click on the link below to read...

"Word Intoxication" by Ruth Johnston First Review

Foreign Affair

One September dawn.
As leaves twist
and raindrops fall.
She counted everyone.
Each tear,
one for every passing year.

She thought of you 
and happy times. 
Eighteen years old, 
in warmer climes.
Watching the sunrise upon the sand.

Each from a distant land.

Eyes locked in deep embrace.
Fingers laced.
The world on hold.
Memories etched upon the soul.
‘I love you’
‘Ich Liebe dich’
Hand in hand,
neither able to understand.

The Beautiful Ones

Where do all the beautiful ones go?
When they start to fade
and their looks have flown.
To risk their life, under the knife?
For a nip and tuck, that could surely fuck up.
Or to leave the scene.
Disappear from view, opt out and go.
Live life alone, like Greta Garbo.

Exciting Times

“So, who are you and what do you do?”...

How many times I have been asked this question in life.  Somehow, judgements, whether they are right or wrong in their presumption, are often made on my answer.  

I do many things and have been many things to many people, but, the true description of what I now feel I am, is an artist.  I have always appreciated style and beauty.  For years I have enjoyed making people look pretty, by styling them.  Their hair, makeup, clothing even their homes.  I thrive on a quest for the perfect french chandelier or an art deco evening bag and will spend hours trawling junk shops, attic sales and Ebay, for that perfect something.  In a local gift store, people have been known to rummage through my trolley, mistaking it for display. It has been said that I possess an eye.

There is nothing I love more than enhancing that natural beauty within and unconsciously search for it in daily life.  The way a shadow falls, or the light filtering through boarding on an abandoned building.  There is beauty and emotion everywhere, now I love to capture it either by sketching, photographing, or writing about it.  

After much persuasion, from people who’s opinions I hold with tremendous respect.  I decided to publish a book of my poems. The artist in me wanted to create something a little different.  I thought if I used a few of my images, it would make it more visually appealing and compliment the words.  It was never about the money, it rarely is with me, I am always motivated by the heart first.  

Of course what I hadn’t considered in this quest, was the cost of publishing, so when the publisher gave me the price the completed book would eventually retail at, I nearly wept.  I felt that I had created a very beautiful thing, that would never sell.  Personally I would love to gift you all a copy, but my husband would kill me.  So back to the drawing board. 

Had this book been in black and white, it would be a whole different story, yet so would the book.  I began to experiment with black and white, but after seeing the full colour book, well, it felt disappointing.  So, working closely with the production team, we have reformatted the book reducing the page count, which then reduced the price a little.

I have also made the decision to forgo my royalties.
I repeat, it has never been about the money.

I just want to produce a book that I am proud of, that I would enjoy reading myself and as it is dedicated to my dad, I wanted it to be perfect.  Poetry is never going to set the world on fire, unlike “Fifty Shades,” but sometimes a poem can really touch a part of your soul as you identify with the writer. 

"One of the things a poem can do
Is remind us of what
We forgot we knew"
Brian Patten

So many people have been so supportive and lovely about wanting to buy my book and I am delighted and humbled by their support.  I know it will be a lovely “Coffee Table Book” containing, I hope, a poem and images for everyone. It will be available to order online at £17.99 SB and £24.99 HB from Amazon, Xlibris and Barnes and Noble. I am not yet sure of which UK stores will be stocking it.

What I intend to do for all my followers and Facebook page friends, who wish to purchase my book, is to take pre orders.  Where I can buy the book using my author discount and be able to provide everyone copy at a more reasonable price of £12.99 for the soft cover and £17.99 for hard back.  I will even sign it for you if you like ... Giggle.  

So please if you would like a copy please email me at wildernesschic@gmail.com  I do not want any money now,  I only wish to know how many books I need to order.

So now when the next person asks me, what do I do, I could answer, with a huge smile, that I am a published poet.  
Even though I won’t have changed, I am still a full time housewife and mother,  I do have to admit to owning a sense of accomplishment.

Jekyll and Hyde

Every wall of my castle slides towards me 

I feel their constricting pressure from within

Smothering my existence

Twisting at my gut

The place I should feel the most peace

Is the place I fear the most

This sickness is killing my babies 

Damaging and infecting their souls

Innocent eyes plead with clarity

The answers are simple to a child

Recoiling with horror and disgust 

As you evolve from Jekyll into Hyde

Someday Somewhere Somehow

Somewhere

Somehow

Someway

Surrender 

I fear I shall

Someplace

Sometime

Someday

Some saffron summer sunset

Succumb

I know I will

Secret seduction

Sensations

So sweet

So powerful 

So strong

Simply,
can no longer, be overcome.