http://slow.writerscafe.org/Rosaliejohnson The original writings of author Tionge Rosalie Johnson en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776108800 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 I was inspired to write this piece for International Woman's Day. the "strong woman" trope has always been a tricky one for me, so delved into this concept through this poem. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1894546/ This was in response to all of the shootings towards black men and women that's been going on recently. And, in response to all of the violence in our world that's been happening. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1832426/ If you've ever struggled with self image or body dysmorphia such as myself, this poem might comfort you. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1794854/ This poem talks about a point in my ife when uncertainty as a young 23 year old is extremely terrifying. I feel a lot like a sailor in the middle of a storm, trying to navigate through adulthood. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1794835/ This piece was written in honor of the 50 lives lost at the fatal Orlando shooting at Pulse nightclub. Tragedies are never easy to face, and through this piece I express my great love and sympathy. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1792656/ Isaw the most beautiful person in the world. A man who watched me drop my nieceoff at boarding school, just as she ran towards her classmates.He worked at a small family owned coffeeshop nearby. Nothing too fancy compared to the boarding school, which towere.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1500032/ I bet, we have all felt like we wished we were Brain. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1385300/ This was inspired by an incident at the beach between a father and a son. I wrote from the perspective of the son. It's more of a spoken word piece, but I thought I would post it on here as well :). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1381074/  On a canvas I am,the white drawingboard with the red spot.You like the VanGogh, the Di Vinci, the Picasso.Your favorite is Vincent's Starry Night,with its intricatebrush strokes and soft blue color patterns.You look at it everytime. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1361158/ Just a quick write I wrote over winter break a few months ago. I was a little weary to post it, but I feel that the theme is important. The theme of moving on. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1310156/ I have a friend who is an interpreter for the deaf and this poem was inspired by all that she does :). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1290827/ A whitelittle kitten lay resting one rainy afternoon upon the soft cushions of awindowsill.  The rhythmic pitter patterof the rain soothes the feline into a deep, peaceful slumber.  A tall figure of a man garbed in a Japanese kimono,enters into the liv.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1282164/ This was a story I wrote for my final portfolio for my Creative Writing Class. Hopefully it is an enjoyable read :). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1277967/ This was based on a dream I had. My imagination can be a great inspiration sometimes :). http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1272557/ A teenager wakes upat 7:50 am, groans that he has to prepare for school. A teenager wakes upat 7:50 am, groans at the pains in his side from sleeping upon a dirty mattress.8:00 am, teenagerbrushes his teeth, combs his hair, eats cereal and groans that he h.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1272553/ Fedthe language of our ancestors,shedevoured the flavors of our heritage.Tastedeach word,eachconversation. Ourdaughter spoiledwith gluttony and pride,consumedher meals. Ataste turned sour, asspices grew dull. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1272550/ Tire marks leave residue at the mercy ofits cemented body.Holes drilled by construction workersbattle against its tough exterior. A disturbance known too well.A disturbance always there,presentin an everlasting existence.&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1272546/ As I sit here, champagne glass in hand,I ponder my love affair with money.A mix of pleasure and pain,its seduction,reels me in. Our flirtation withbig yachts, mansions, andcountry clubs.Its pain of exchangingyou,a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Rosaliejohnson/1272539/