Terri L. Johnson

Hi my name is Terri L. Johnson, I also go by the name Poetry Johnson.  I am an Aboriginal Native Canadian.  I live on a Reservation in a Village called Hobbema, in Alberta, Canada.  I have four beautiful children, three boys and one girl.  I have been writing poetry for years. I have been published at:


I have also been Published in “A Poetically Spoken Anthology”


You can also find my work at this Blog Site:


This is my First Published Book that Features just my Work. I hope you enjoy.


Terri L. Johnson

Now Available

order your copy today !!!

$ 19.95 

$ 19.95
$ 19.95

purchase E ~ Book


$ 5.99


First Nations

Terri L. Johnson


Jonathan Taylor

Carla May Listener

Dion Tootoosis

Terri L. Johnson

Pub. April 2012

195 pages

$ 19.95



$ 15.00

purchase E ~ Book


$ 3.99

the Purging,

the Breathing,

the Essence of the Soul

of Terri

poetic expressions


Terri L. Johnson

This is a magnificent Poetic Journey from a very Talented and Unique Voice. Come and see for your self, and Terri examines the many aspects of her Soul, Her Ancestry and her Dreams.

Terri L. Johnson

Pub. June 2011

127 pages

$ 15.00



Free Spirit

You threw me into the fire and watched as my flesh burned.

Like clay you molded me into a nightmare,

and watched in delight as I turned.

Did you forget I was someone's daughter?

Did you think my heart couldn't break like any other?

Did you forget I have a guardian angel in my deceased father?

You tried to strip the very essence of me.

You even tried to shake the woman within me.

You tried so hard to break me.

You even tried to destroy me.

Of course you couldnt just let me be.

you wanted to cage me and never let me free.

Like an eagle I was meant to soar.

So with my flight I have now settled the score.

You can never push me.

Or burn the spirit within me.

You will never again hurt me.

Or ever have control over me.

Like the fire you started,

the flames gave me birth.

Vowing to never again be broken hearted.

I now found my true worth.

I found a new happiness to embrace.

A happiness that makes my new heart race.

You see?

this happiness created a brand new me.

Released the caged spirit and set it free.

A spirit ten times more beautiful then what it used to be.

A free spirit that now shines.

A free spirit that has shed the last

of its sad cries.

A spirit free of your lies.

Now I can fly,

and with my flight...

I can now say



© June 2, 2011.  By Terri Johnson

Falling Rain

It rained that day.

I could still hear the rain drops

pitter-patter against the window pane.

There was no thunder,

no sound,

only that of the falling rain.

It wasnt a torrential downfall,

just a raindrop here and there.

A minor scatter,

just a sprinkle.

Only thing was...

the raindrops kept coming.

What was it about the rain?

That brought tears of pain?

Well I had pain

only it wasnt the rain

that brought on my tears that day.

My sadness was great.

Like a hole that was left

to bleed out.

My breathing came

in short gasps.

I felt so choked

yet no sound would come out.

Only tears of pain

to match the pitter-patter

of the falling rain.

No one around,

claustrophobia was abound.

The walls were closing in

so much mental clutter

I found myself in.

I just sat there in silence.

with no light,

no sound.

Just that of the falling rain.

They were gone,

yet it wasnt for one

that I felt so lost.

So overwhelming

my mind couldnt comprehend the loss.

At least not yet.

Not fully anyway.

The rain fell in pieces

just as my heart did.

Only thing was

no one died.

At least not on that day.

I could feel my throat swell,

I was beginning to feel my breathe leave.

No something was lost.

My broken spirit

had ran away.

Yet all I could hear that day was...

the sounds of falling rain.


© May 22, 2011. By Terri Johnson


I am a P.O.E.T…

A person of extraordinary talent.


I spring words on a page.

I make them fall like rain.

Writing of life.

Giving word to the picture of strife.


Writing of pain.

Making this page my domain.

Writing of joy.

Which to some may annoy.


Writing of love.

The beat of the heart

I try speak of.


My words are like the wind.

Flowing effortlessly

And yet it comes from within.

My words are like snow,

Icy smooth from head to toe.


My words are like water.

Words that flow elegantly,

And never falter.


Rhyming a bit here.

Rhyming a bit there.


Spitting a little knowledge.

About the words,

that need to be acknowledged.


Trying to seek the word called art.

And bring to life

The feelings I impart.

Because hey…

I speak from my heart.


So you ask me why I write?


Because it’s my pen that shines bright,

Like wind it takes flight.

And with it creates life.

Words that hold a little bite.


Words that may have a little insight.

Words with power to ignite.


Because baby…


I am a P.O.E.T,


Person of Extraordinary Talent

And to write . . . is my god given right!


© February 7, 2011.  By Terri Johnson.


The Beauty Of Women

There is so much to the beauty of women.

Every facet, every curve, with so much

hidden intuition.

Any part of the world can be our turf.

With so much style, wit and intelligence.

We women epitomize the words

natural elegance.

We women are beauty and grace.

We hold the finest taste.

So strong and unmovable,

so versatile and fully capable.

We women are known to be very tasteful.

Well of course...

we women are beautiful angels.

There is so much knowledge and intellect.

We embody wisdom and the utmost of respect.

We take pride in ever aspect

of our lives.

Yet we still have a shoulder to hear all your cries.

We shed tears at all costs.

Yet despite alll the fallen tears,

we women remain standing strong.

Through heartaches and pain.

It is our virtue that stays the same.

Like metal you cant break.

The very fact that we are women,


thats something no man will ever take.

Honesty and pride all in one elegant stride.

We are women rare and very dignified.

Well of course we are women.

We can be whomever we please.


because we can!

So to all the women of the world,

embrace the beauty within us all.

Unite the secrets of each our calls because

we are women!


© May 4, 2011. By Terri Johnson.


Here Comes the Night Final .mp3