Unlimited Power

             Unlimited Power

The kid had incredible brain power.

He became more powerful every hour.

Soon, he was creating matter.

People began to fear and  scatter.

He would think of it and it would appear.

Such power caused a lot of fear.

He would disappear and reappear again.

If they doubted, he would do it again.

He slipped a couple minutes forward in time.

Move, then return to this time.

To those watching, he would disappear.

Then, in another spot, reappear.

He could fly by the power of his mind.

Transfer great distances in a flick of time.

He could read anyone’s mind.

Control them and keep them in line.

He could look in the sky, predict the rain.

Yet, through it all, he was not vain.

He could heal the sick, raise the dead.

Make the girls talk out of their heads.

People feared him, some tried to kill him.

They should have known they couldn’t win.

He became invisible in a twinkle.

He never aged nor got a wrinkle.

He could turn water into wine.

Mostly, he did only what was fine.

Nothing was beyond him to do.

Peace on earth became his rule.

He solved problems for the scientists.

His mother would give him a giant kiss.

Diseases were eliminated.

Old age was decimated.

It was like Shangri-La here.

No crime or killing. No more fear.

Then the day came when he was gone.

He said we knew enough to get along.

We could do it on our own, you see.

He had somewhere he needed to be.

No one heard of nor saw him again.

Let’s hope this is the beginning, not the end.

—————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

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The Earthquake

               The Earthquake

I felt the earth move under my feet.

I could barely stand up on the street.

Frightened and big eyed, I looked around.

Trees were swaying, buildings falling down.

I took off and ran for the grass.

The shaking knocked me on my ass.

I was sitting in the middle of a lawn.

Everything around was almost gone.

I heard yelling and crying from the mess.

Someone trapped within, was my guess.

Myself, and several others were safe.

We started helping others to escape.

That day, I was just out for a walk.

I was thinking of heading for the dock.

Next thing I know, all is gone.

I see a doe running with its fawn.

I start digging through some rubble.

I heard a female voice in trouble.

Soon, I tunneled my way into her.

A beautiful girl, alive for sure.

Her leg was wedged under a bookcase.

I lifted it up slowly, just in case.

Luckily, her leg wasn’t broken.

Only bruised, a lucky token.

I said “Anyone else trapped in here?”

“No, I live alone.” She said in fear.

“At least, I did live here. No more now.”

“I think I lost my home too, somehow.”

“You mean you don’t know yet?”

My home was gone too, was a safe bet.

“I live a few blocks from here.”

“I was out for a walk.” “ I am pretty near.”

“Then, let’s go see if your house is there.”

“You don’t have to go anywhere.”

“I am still in shock. This house is bare.”

“I will help you. Is anybody there?”

“No, I live alone too.” I said.

“Oh, I thought maybe you were wed.”

“Not yet. Haven’t met the right one.”

So, off we went to see what was done.

On the way, I learned her name.

I told her mine. Close to the same.

My house had minimal damaged.

I told her that I could manage.

She insisted on helping me clean up.

I didn’t have a lot of stuff.

It took all day. Then, I took her to dinner.

It had to be fast food, but, it was a winner.

She had no where to stay. I had a spare room.

WE moved her stuff there real soon.

Within the month we both knew.

She wasn’t moving out. Didn’t want to.

I have found who I was searching for.

An earthquake brought her to my door.

From the disaster came a new life.

Phoenix is what we named our first child.

From the ashes rose new life, running wild.

Any way you look at this we win.

Enough love to carry us to the end.

—————————–R.W. Johnson——(2017)

 

 

 

Wasted Time

                  Wasted Time

All the wasted time along the way.

Think about how you spend your day.

Often wasted, hung out to dry.

Stoned, inebriated, wondering why?

Your time here is limited, for sure.

Put health first. Keep things pure.

This may give you a few more years.

What’s the use? You say through tears.

What good are a few extra years?

Make use of the wasted time. Don’t fear.

You could be building a great career.

Better yet, if religious minded at all,

prepare the way for the heavenly call.

Be welcomed into those pearly gates.

Do all you can before it is too late.

If it’s not your bag, just be a better man.

Why should you do all you can?

It will make life better for those around .

Thinking of others pays off, I have found.

Whatever way you would choose to go.

It is better than wasted time, you know.

If wasted time is kept to a minimal,

there are no regrets when you go.

———————–R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

No Paint For This House

       No Paint For This House

One spring day we painted our home.

It took a few days to get it done.

3 of us were working. I wasn’t alone.

It went fast so was sort of fun.

A pretty blue with dark blue trim.

We were all happy after the last coat.

The next day it was like it had never been.

No new paint from pillar to post.

It looked like we had never painted it.

What the hell happened to the paint?

I was so shocked, I could have a fit.

My wife felt weak, about to faint.

We called a ghost hunter for help.

He came over to take a look.

He knew exactly how we felt.

We showed him pictures that we took.

I looked at the ground where he knelt.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

He was as mystified as we were.

“Can I call a friend of mine? He knows lore.”

“Maybe he will know what did occur.”

We said yes, and soon he arrived.

We showed and told him all we knew.

He turned white and almost cried.

“I think I know what happened to you.”

He started to say, then fell to the ground.

He was dead, right on the spot.

The ambulance soon came around.

A heart attack or stroke were their thoughts.

That didn’t explain enough for us.

We saw the marks on his throat.

They disappeared before we could cuss.

Something made sure he couldn’t gloat.

We never tried to paint the house again.

We sold it, as is, just as fast as we could.

Never told the story. Didn’t know how to begin.

We knew the siding was wormwood.

What this meant, we weren’t sure.

We were glad to be away from there.

Why or how it did occur,

remains a mystery we haven’t wanted to share.

———————————R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

Comic World Comes To Life

Comic World Comes To Life

Billy had read comics all his life.

X-Men, Fantastic Four, Spiderman.

The Hulk, Justice league, all right!!

Dr. Strange, Iron Man, Superman.

 

Marvel and D.C. comics he liked best.

Batman, Wonder Woman, even

Captain America, and all the rest.

They always occupied every evening.

 

He would fantasize about it all.

Such a world, he would love to be in.

One morning he awoke and saw

every comic character from then.

 

From all the comic’s, they were there.

He saw them on TV and out his door.

It seemed that they were everywhere.

Not comics, but real, even what they wore.

 

The villains were all present too.

Things seemed to be in a stir.

People didn’t know what to do.

The ‘hero’s’ stated who they were.

 

Said they were here to stop the villains.

They had the means and the power.

Everyone should start to chillin.

They would make the villains cower.

 

Soon, a terrible battle raged.

Fire was flying all around.

A fierce battle, the hero’s waged.

The villains were soon looser bound.

 

The hero’s won on every front.

The world was safe once again.

Then, they were gone. Was this a stunt?

Everyone hoped to see them again.

 

It was all over before it had begun.

Billy wondered what just happened.

Yet, all others had seen all the fun.

Did a Twilight Zone thing just happen?

 

The answer was never known.

It wasn’t talked about much after.

Billy thought maybe he had shown.

his imagination can produce matter.

————————–R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uncle John

                 Uncle John

Uncle John was always sneaking around.

If not that, he was acting like a clown.

He is one I wouldn’t trust far.

He always knows just where you are.

 

There is a method to his madness.

I need to figure out his sadness.

He acts as though he might be depressed.

Then he starts acting as if possessed.

 

Is the man just crazy as a loon?

Or, just a screw loose, whacky buffoon?

Not much difference, you might say.

You wouldn’t give him the time of day.

 

He is my uncle, so I have to claim him.

Every family has a closet kin.

Not talking about a gay here.

Talking about the ‘fruitcake,’ I fear.

 

I have tried talking to him before.

Before I knew, I was out the door.

What makes him tick needs more scrutiny.

For, I know he is no fool, you see.

 

I have a suspicion it is all an act.

It is all an act just to distract.

Whatever his insecurities are?

They have remained a mystery so far.

 

But, I won’t give up on him.

He’s my uncle, that’s not a sin.

He may be weird, but loveable too.

Who else would give me snuff to chew.

————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

The Easy Life

             The Easy Life

Out here the wind always blows.

That just seems to be how it goes.

A windmill makes my electricity.

I had it built for that explicitly.

Tumble weeds went tumbling by.

There was not a cloud in the sky.

Daydreaming was my pastime.

No motivation. It’s not a crime.

A windmill pumped my water.

Worked as faithful as my daughter.

Just her and I live out here, you see.

For her mother passed away on me.

Not a lot to do. No phone to talk through.

TV is mostly hit and miss.

The internet doesn’t exist.

We both do a lot of reading.

Occasionally, we will do some weeding.

The garden does well, if watered right.

The stars are really bright at night.

We will pan for gold, if in the mood.

Mainly, we are concerned with food.

It is a life not meant for all.

My daughter has been here since real small.

She was taught here at home.

Smart as a whip. Tough as bone.

One day a young man stopped by.

He was polite and acted shy.

He had plans to start a wind farm.

Lots of windmills with lots of arms.

Generate power for the city far away.

Said it would pay off big someday.

In the end we cut a deal.

We would be partners on this field.

He was right. We made a lot of money.

He married my daughter & called her honey.

As for me, I’m still here.

I kick back with a cold beer.

Watch TV, thanks to a satellite dish.

I still read whenever I wish.

But, most of all, I like to daydream.

Listen to the wind and scheme.

I could do more with my life, but I felt.

Ya can’t please everyone so ya got to please yourself.

—————————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uncontrollable Love

          Uncontrollable Love

I can’t believe that we’re together.

I hope this day will last forever.

It is not good to deceive a friend.

But, it had to be, so why pretend.

I’m not proud of lying to others.

I felt like I was in the gutter.

The reward is being with you.

For this, I will do all I have to do.

You are worth all my contemplations.

The friends I had have bad relations.

They want to make me suffer.

They want to treat me rougher.

I screwed them all over to get to you.

For you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.

I know all this, you may not approve.

I’m not in a rut, I’m in a groove.

A love like this, I can’t control.

Please, just let this all unfold.

You will see I was meant for you.

And you were meant for me too.

Our friends will forgive us in time.

Once they see you are truly mine.

Love is blind and I did run amuck.

Like being run over by a garbage truck.

I can’t control what I may do.

As long as the end result is you.

We are there. We must make it last.

Or else, they all will beat my ass.

The path to true love passes through forever.

A signpost up ahead. Eternity or never.

Take this trip with me you won’t regret.

You won’t feel sorry for the day we met.

—————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

Real, Or Not??

             Real, Or Not??

There are changes going on in me.

Since I was young and free,

I went through life not knowing.

All that time, I was growing.

It started way down in my toes.

As it grows it twitches my nose.

It is worse when the moon is full.

Then, my fingers start to grow.

I grow long nails, like claws.

My feet look almost like paws.

My nose turns into a snout.

What the hell is this about?

Hair was popping out all over.

Ears became pointed, like Rover’s.

My eyes look like a wolf’s.

My smell is better. That’s all it took.

I took off running through the woods.

Howling, I would fly, if I could.

I wanted fresh, bloody meat to eat.

I caught a rabbit. What a treat.

I have a fear of other men.

Their smell is strong, like rotten gin.

I am fearless otherwise.

Nothing can hide from my cunning eyes.

I run, howl, rip and tear.

I can go most anywhere.

Morning comes and I am home.

On my bed, I let out a grown.

What a nightmare. I am a mess.

What is this blood? I can’t guess.

Could this nightmare have been real?

Was I a werewolf? That’s how I feel.

No, that’s impossible,—– right?

There are no werewolves in the night.

I push it all out of my mind.

Save it for another time.

———————-R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

A Land Without Signs

      A Land Without Signs

Lost in a land without  signs.

How it would be if I were blind.

No ‘do this,’ ‘do that,’ or whatever.

I don’t know if this is better.

Advertizing is out the door.

For that, I’m happy to the core.

No road signs or mileage signs either.

Bad news if I get cabin fever.

No sign to keep off the grass.

Someone yelled “Move your ass.”

No warning signs of danger.

Walk carefully, if a stranger.

No buildings with names on them.

Embarrassing, walking into a girls gym.

Where’s the bathroom? I got to go.

Without a sign, I’ll be quite a show.

No stop signs. Drive with care.

No signs that say BEWARE!!

I don’t think I like this place.

I’ll take signs, whatever it takes.

A cop tapped me on the shoulder.

Woke me up, without being bolder.

The sign said no loitering or sleeping.

He waves me on, the park bench creaking.

I was back, as I kissed the sign.

The cop just shrugged. He didn’t mind.

————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2017)