Lost Gold, Found & Lost

      Lost Gold, Found & Lost

The dust storm was severe.

I was lost, that was clear.

Grit was getting in my eyes.

It was burning, making me cry.

I kept staggering along.

Wondering which way I had gone?

I couldn’t see a single thing.

Wondering what each step will bring?

A wet handkerchief over my face.

Goggles on, I can’t see this place.

I was out, mining for gold.

“It’s in the desert,” I was told.

They failed to mention the storms.

Now, I feel so forlorn.

I may die before this is over.

They will find me pushing up clover.

Suddenly, I fell and rolled down a hill.

A sand dune, building for the kill?

I imagined it falling and covering me.

There was nowhere for me to flee.

The wind was much less down here.

It felt better, that was clear.

I found I could see around a bit.

Sand was blowing over a rift.

A small bluff of higher land.

Behind it, I was below the sand.

Then, I saw something shiny.

It was gold! Quite a find for me.

I dug around & found a bunch in a sack.

I had found some miner’s pack.

I would lay low till the storm blew out.

Grab the gold and set a route.

If I can make it out of here.

I will be rich. That was clear.

Then, I remembered the stories.

A miner left his gold behind, his glory.

He knew he couldn’t carry it out .

“I need more water,” he did shout.

Indians found him barely alive.

They helped him to survive.

He searched for his stash of gold for years.

It was lost, along with his fears.

I decided he may have been right.

I gave up the gold without a fight.

I took 2 nuggets along with me.

I made it out. I was lucky & free.

I went back to find that gold.

It was lost, as I had been told.

Which is better? Gold or life?

I’ll take life with all its strife.

That gold may never be found again.

But, overall, it is better to win.

——————–R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

A Trip That Keeps On Giving

   A Trip That Keeps On Giving

While walking in this new place,

I ended up at the marketplace.

All the people everywhere.

Many new smells in the air.

Different spices from many lands.

People talking with their hands.

As they bargained for the lowest price.

Everything here looked so nice.

Then, I saw her walking by.

She smiled when she caught my eye.

I had never seen her before.

But, I knew I wanted to see her more.

She had a scarf wrapped around her head.

Like most women, as she moved ahead.

Before long, she was out of sight.

I looked for her till it was night.

At the hotel, something was missing.

The thought of her and I kissing.

But, she was nowhere to be found.

No matter how much I looked around.

The next day she never showed.

The marketplace was growing old.

Day after that, I was headed home.

A long air flight back all alone.

The following week, I was walking downtown.

Suddenly, I turned around.

A woman was entering a store.

She looked the same as she did before.

Rapidly, I followed her in.

I was thinking how to begin.

I said: “I saw you in the marketplace.”

“Then, you were gone without a trace.”

She said: “Yes, I remember you.”

“ You remind me of someone I knew.”

“That was another lifetime now.”

“You remembered me somehow?”

She had a wrinkle appear on her brow.

“Something lit up in me when I saw you.”

“I knew I wanted to see more of you.”

“This is very strange, for sure.”

“I came home, and we meet at this store?”

“You’re from here also?”, I said.

“Yes, I have lived here since I was wed.”

“You are married then?”

”No, my husband died a few years ago.”

“You reminded me of him, very much so.”

My heart started a trip to forever.

I knew I had to be very cleaver.

But, I was sure she was my destiny.

She was everything I wanted her to be.

One thing led to another.

She introduced me to her brother.

We hit it off very good.

Everything was falling into place.

I was sure this was our fate.

If you travel abroad at any time.

Always keep this story in mind.

For, the same could happen to you.

Falling in love with the one met for you.

——————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

My Shadow Friend

          My Shadow Friend

There is something there behind me.

I don’t know what it is.

I don’t know how it finds me.

I don’t know what it is.

It is there on sunny days now.

Not so much on cloudy days.

It disappears at noon somehow.

Then grows taller later in the day.

It never says a word to me.

It is a lot like a ghostly figure.

But, it is always following, see.

I got my gun and pulled the trigger.

It didn’t flinch, it didn’t die.

It followed me till I went inside.

I almost felt like I wanted to cry.

I wanted to be brave. I really tried.

I told my girlfriend why I was scared.

“You stupid jerk. That’s your shadow.”

She talked to me like I was impaired.

She upset me, and got me raddled.

Does a shadow cut you?

Does a shadow burn your feet?

Does a shadow try to choke you?

Does it bite you with its teeth?

She said I was talking crazy.

So I showed her all the marks.

She quietly said that maybe

I should go see Dr. Clark.

He is a Psychiatrist in town.

I have met with him before.

I know that he won’t put me down.

He will help me, I am sure.

He said a shadow would not hurt me.

Only something evil would do that.

He said he would issue a decree.

For all the evil to stand back.

When I went outside the ‘figure’ was gone.

My friendly shadow was back again.

I am glad it is back after so long.

Because my shadow is my friend.

————————–R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

Time Fulfilled

          Time Fulfilled

Time is eternal, love is too.

I have enough time for you.

Distance is often a bummer

If only I could hear from her.

Days stretch into months.

I think of her a bunch.

Months stretch into years.

I see her through my tears.

Gray walls never change.

It doesn’t help to complain.

Only one word, or a letter,

and I would feel so much better.

Time passes, the memories stay.

Have to hang on one more day.

The day comes. I am released.

She is there,—– in the street.

Time becomes eternity.

There is only her and me.

My arms reach out for her.

I know she is mine for sure.

Two hearts are beating as one.

I’m not aware of the setting sun.

Here in eternity forever.

We walk away together.

————R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

The ‘Redneck’ Way

 

           The ‘Redneck’ Way

Way back in the Ozark mountains.

There are some ‘rednecks’ living there.

The census taker can’t count them.

He is told:  ‘Don’t enter. Beware.’

 

The rumors, taken all in fun.

Say the ‘rednecks’ are inbred.

They will greet you with a gun.

The women want a man to wed.

 

Most stay clear of going there.

Just in case the rumor is true.

A ‘redneck’ gal is too much to bare.

She will rape you fore she’s through.

 

Some city slickers went there fishing.

They were not seen for some time.

They’d rather be dead than just missing.

What happened to them was a major crime.

 

They wouldn’t talk about it at all.

They walked like a corncob was up their ass.

If pushed, they just started to bawl.

Given the chance, they got out fast.

 

They only gave this final warning.

Don’t go into the Ozark mountains.

You’ll be raped every night and morning.

You’ll squeal like a pig. It is their way of courting.

———————————-R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

It’s Coming Home

       It’s Coming Home

Early in the morning.

It is coming without warning.

The songbirds stop their singing.

Silence so strong that it is ringing.

It is coming home to you.

 

Way across the meadow.

Something moving in the nettles.

It doesn’t act like they are stinging.

There is something it is flinging.

It is coming home to you.

 

It is coming closer.

Its shadow couldn’t be grosser.

Its arms are almost dragging.

Tail is limber, almost wagging.

It is coming home to you.

 

Its fur is ruffled and dirty.

In a rush, there go all the birdies.

Its feet are sinking in the field.

It holds its arm up like a shield.

It is coming home to you.

 

Will the nightmare end?

Why is it coming again?

There is no way to help it now.

Not after it slaughtered that cow.

It is coming home to you.

 

It is at the front door now.

It has got to go away somehow.

You can hear its grunt and growl.

You get a whiff of something foul.

It is coming home to you.

 

Then, you wake up screaming.

You don’t understand the meaning.

A repeating dream that comes to you.

You’re shaking and you don’t have a clue.

Why it keeps coming home to you.

 

You get up to have some coffee.

First you have to stop and take a pee.

You look out the window, coffee in hand.

Something is moving across the land.

It is coming home to you.

————————R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

The Box

                     The Box

“What did you get inside the box?”

“Don’t talk about that dumb old box.”

“Why not?,” he said with a moan.

“It was there when I got home.”

“It has no top, latch, hinge, or label.”

“It was just sitting there on the table.”

“I picked it up. It was light as a feather.”

“There was no accompanying letter.”

“I shook it, but couldn’t hear a thing.”

Who thought of this to bring?

“I left last. The house was locked.”

“How did it get left in this spot?”

“My mom is at work all day.”

“My dad’s out of town, far away.”

“It seems to be a perfect 12″ cube.”

“The edges are sharp, well hewed.”

“It’s light, like the metal on my bike.”

“But, it won’t reflect any light.”

“You have got to be spoofing me.”

“Pick it up and you will see.”

“All right, I will take it outside.”

He tried to lift it by its sides.

In his effort, he turned red.

“It’s heaver than hell,” he said.

“What!!” “You lie.” ” Let me try.”

I tried till I almost died.

“I picked it up awhile ago.”

“It was super light, you know.”

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Let’s go. I don’t want it near.”

“Jimmy, I’m home.” I heard mom say.

“Anything interesting happen today?”

“Just that box on the kitchen table.”

“Who’s it from?”  “It has no label.”

“It was there when I got home.”

“I locked the door before I left home.”

“How did it get in here then?”

“I have no idea how or when?”

“Move it to the coffee table in the den.”

“I can’t. It is way too heavy.”

She picked it up with no effort at all.

Then moved it to the den down the hall.

“Your dad will be home tomorrow eve.”

“He may know something, I believe.”

We both pretended like it wasn’t there.

Then, next morning, it wasn’t there!!

“Did you move that box somewhere else?”

“No, I haven’t.” I said with a belch.

We looked high and low for the box.

All I found was a pair of dirty socks.

We told dad all about it that evening.

“I know nothing about this scheming.”

Days later, It is still a mystery. I say:

“Did a box show up at your house today??”

————————–R.W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

The Evil Within The City

                    Evil Within The City

I am riding through the forest on horseback.

Plenty of leaves and stuff to cover my track.

The sky is darkening. A storm is coming.

I find a place that looks becoming.

I pitch my tent. Cover it with a tarp.

I finish just as the rain begins to start.

I wait inside for the rain to end.

There is no one else, so why pretend.

99.9% of all humanity is gone.

The catastrophe has lasted so long.

I haven’t seen another in eight months.

Those left are gathered in a bunch.

“I am on a pilgrimage to New York.”

“There is great evil there.”, I retort.

Then I set out on my way.

I am still headed there today.

I may stay here for the winter.

There is a river that is near here.

I trap and fish for my food.

I even eat roots when in the mood.

The winters are rough with all the snow.

Food is scarce now, don’t you know.

Spring came and it was time to prepare.

The towns and villages are everywhere.

They are vacant. Little left that is useful.

I found enough to make weapons though.

I had to forge my own sword and knives.

I made a crossbow that was very nice.

I would follow the river to New York.

There are no laws or any courts.

I will find this evil that calls to me.

I will kill it and then be free.

I have no idea what it is.

A transformed human? Whatever it is.

It is very strong, mentally and more.

It reaches to within my very core.

I must succeed for all mankind.

No one can live with ‘it’ in their mind.

The days pass on into summer.

It is warm and there’s lots to plunder.

I am getting well fed now.

My strength is building up, somehow.

I finally reach the city limits.

I have miles to go within it.

The evil is in the heart of the city.

I hope it doesn’t have a committee.

I can sense no others as I ride along.

It knows I’m coming. It won’t be long.

The closer I get the more I can feel.

There are others. He makes them knell.

I don’t know how I can get to him.

He has a small army of men.

Finally, I realize where he is.

The Empire State Building. Top floor is his.

He can reach very far out from there.

Mentally, he is everywhere.

He is drawing all men to him.

To answer to his beckoned whim.

I hear him, but I have my own will.

I hope I can hold out till the kill.

Now, this close, I know what he is.

He is responsible for all of this.

He was messing with the genetics of man.

“I’ll make them immortal, if I can.”

His experiment went all wrong.

He created carriers that destroyed the throng.

His serum also altered a virus.

It spread in humans like a wild fire crisis.

He made changes and tried it on himself.

The results were horrible. I know how he felt.

I don’t think he is human now.

He became super strong, somehow.

His brain power is, by far, the worst.

He can control all others. Make them thirst.

Make them dance, make them laugh.

Make them come to where he’s at.

They bring him water and food.

Whatever he wants. They can’t elude.

I can resist, but for how long?

He is mad that I can still get along.

The few that survived the plague, you see,

had a lot of new abilities that shouldn’t be.

Some could mentally talk with animals.

Others could read minds like a manual.

Other mental abilities were displayed.

Levitation, crop motivation, relayed.

But, none had strength and control like him.

He could know all minds through thick and thin.

How can I get to him when he knows all I do?

I’ll figure a way.—– I’m not a fool.

If he thinks I will surrender to him.

There may be a chance I can win.

His minons will bring me to him face to face.

I feel he will slam me all over the place.

Yet, I have to take the chance.

Or, no one will ever find romance.

I have a girl waiting for me.

Or, under his control. I must set her free.

She is probably headed here now.

Like all others, even animals, somehow.

His minions are coming. I feel them close.

I could avoid them, just like a ghost.

But, I must go with them for my plan.

I hide my weapons and walk like a man.

My weapons are on me under my clothes.

Hidden on me from my head to my toes.

I can keep them from searching me at all.

I have some mental skills after the fall.

Mine are much like his, though weaker.

That is why I was called The Seeker.

I don’t know if they are enough.

Pulling this off is going to be tough.

They take me up to the very top.

A lot of climbing with a lot of stops.

He is waiting in his throne room.

The sun forces away the gloom.

Male minions to do all his bidding.

They get for him whatever he thinks fitting.

The female minions were all naked.

Their modesty is totally deflated.

He sat there upon his dais.

Looking proud and pious.

Bigger than humans, with muscles bulging.

He looked at me with a look of loathing.

He was a disgusting, sickening sight.

Enough to give anyone a terrible fright.

“So, you’ve finally saw the light.”

“Beg for forgiveness with all your might.”

“I am Lord and Master here.”

“I am a God, who all should fear.”

“This world is my world now.”

“All will bow a knee to me, somehow.”

“If they don’t, then they are dead”

“I can mentally blow up their head.”

“How about you? Drop to your knees now.”

“Pledge your allegiance to me and cowl.”

I dropped and pledged my allegiance.

I begged for forgiveness with antecedents.

He had me rise and stepped off his throne.

His mental pressure was making me moan.

Then, quick as lightening, I moved apart.

I whipped out my sword and drove it into his heart.

All the minions froze right where they were.

A mental blast, I thought I was dead for sure.

It didn’t last as he fell to the floor.

I came close to do one last chore.

I lopped off his head with one mighty blow.

That put a final end to his show.

The minions were suddenly free.

They were as happy as they could be.

The women quickly clothed themselves.

The men asked me if I needed help.

They kept thanking and praising me.

I said I am nobody, as they could see.

They took the body and threw it off the roof.

Like King Kong, who was not bullet proof.

They wanted to know what to do now?

I said they could survive, somehow.

Time to prosper and repopulate the city.

Make it look alive and pretty.

I slipped away when I could.

Headed for my home in the wood.

I whistled and my horse came running.

“Are you ready to do some hunting?”

I headed on the long track home.

I soon found I was not alone.

It was people who were under his spell.

Also heading home now, and doing well.

Another year passed and I finally found her.

The love of my life, waiting, for sure.

She knew I was still alive and well.

She had been through a living hell.

He kept drawing her toward New York.

She had made it to a major fork.

Then, his control disappeared.

She headed for home again in fear.

She didn’t know if it was over.

Soon though, it was crimson and clover.

A few months later I arrived.

That is when we both came alive.

Years have passed since that mighty quest.

Our children will tell you about all the rest.

———————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

Long Winter Nights

 

  Long Winter Nights

The nights are long.

The days are short.

Since you are gone,

There’s little to report.

 

This winter is cold as hell.

Every day cuts like a knife.

Look how much snow fell.

Facing it without a wife.

 

Life alone, and snowed in.

Time passes slow as molasses.

I play solitaire, sometimes gin.

Use the computer, till it crashes.

 

I could do more with you.

We kept busy all the time.

Plenty of things for us to do.

Now, I have nothing, but time.

 

Time to think, and to cry.

Time to sort out the blame.

Can’t get past the you in I.

One or the other is the same.

 

I hear a snow mobile near.

I go outside to see what’s up.

It is you, my darling dear.

My face became all lit up.

 

You flew into my arms.

Kisses covering me all over.

I am captured by your charms.

The snow becomes crimson and clover.

 

About what happened is not spoken.

We are now as one forever.

The fire is hot, no longer smoking.

Wrapped in a blanket, we cuddle together.

 

Before we know it, spring is here.

Snow is gone. Flowers are in bloom.

We are both extremely happy, it is clear.

Soon, another will join us in this room.

————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

 

 

 

 

More Than A Friend

 

          More Than A Friend

When you came to me in the light,

I knew I wouldn’t be afraid in the night.

I knew I wanted you to stay.

There is not much more I can say.

 

The world is dark and you are light.

Things that happen make me uptight.

They scare me and it won’t go away.

Maybe things will be different someday.

 

You calm me down and that is well.

You have a way to quiet the quell.

Darkness moves over the land.

You come close and hold my hand.

 

The angel of death makes its flight.

I ask you to hold me tight.

Hell breaks loose and all is moved.

Stand by me,—– I behoove.

 

Finally, light breaks upon the land.

I will smile,—– if I can.

You have brought me through.

I am truly indebted to you.

 

This world is full of sin.

There is no way I can win.

Just cling to you until the end.

You are so much more than a friend.

——————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)