Trouble On The Muni

       Trouble On The Muni

I took a ride on a Muni bus.

Everyone was in a rush.

A man started throwing a fit.

Started cussing and wouldn’t quit.

He pulled an old lady out of her seat.

Then sat down before anyone could speak.

The old lady hit him with her cane.

He called her a whore by name.

He got up and punched her lights out.

She hit the floor without a shout.

People grabbed him without a word.

As the driver pulled to the curb.

They threw him off the bus.

He started to rant and cuss.

The driver pulled back into the street.

As the guy was climbing to his feet.

 

Later, I read in a local paper.

The guy thrown off turned into a hater.

He tried to sue the old lady & the bus line.

Said they hurt him & he wasn’t fine.

Someone recorded it all with their phone.

The jury watched it as he let out a groan.

He is in the slammer now for assault.

I hope he knows how the old lady felt.

But, most likely, he didn’t learn a thing.

Who knows what trouble these idiots will bring.

——————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

A Trip Within

         A Trip To Within

Why did I wait until the end?

To try and travel within.

Within the mind of another.

Not talking about my brother.

Into the mind of one disturbed.

I know, you think it is weird.

This ability is only mine.

I have known about it for some time.

I decided to try this trip.

I work with patients that will fit.

I got one to sit and relax.

Said I was looking for facts.

Didn’t tell it all to him.

Just to relax. Rest from within.

Slowly, I eased my way in.

I didn’t want to disturb him.

I had explored this way with others.

Other people, like my brother.

They all were considered sane.

The trip didn’t cause them pain.

When I reached the area of thought.

I was wondering what I sought?

Everything was jumbled here.

It was hard to see things clear.

Was that him riding a white horse?

Dressed up like a knight, of course.

He pointed his lance at me.

Then, started charging, you see.

Just before he ran me through.

The scene changed to something new.

He was small and quite ashamed.

It was causing him a lot of pain.

He had done something he knew was wrong.

He feared his parents, who came on strong.

He always felt small, and unworthy.

He had a fear of getting dirty.

His parents would whip his ass good.

He couldn’t please them, but, he knew he should.

His thinking became warped and delusional.

He withdrew into a world unusual.

He was the authority here.

He generated nothing, but fear.

His word was law to all around.

Else, he would smash them into the ground.

This had little to do with reality.

It was his way to compensate, you see.

They say he is a schizophrenic.

Not someone you would like to mimic.

I withdrew, understanding much more now.

Now, if I could only reach him somehow.

There may be hope for him to see the light.

To no longer fear that it may not be right.

It will take time, but I have a direction.

I must show him that I respect him.

Decisions for him are hard to make.

I want it to become a piece of cake.

Time will tell if this all paid off.

I am not one who will scoff.

——————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Missing Him

          Missing Him

Sitting here in a blue mood.

Just staring at the moon.

Thinking about you.

Where ever you went to.

You’re on a secret mission.

One Navy Seal is missing.

Missing from by my side.

I miss you so, I cried.

I know it is your job.

I pray for protection from God.

Please let him come home safe.

Let that be his only fate.

He does it for his country.

Let the children run free.

Let us maintain our freedom.

He fights so we can see them.

Yet,—– I miss him so.

Let someone else do the show.

He has paid his dues.

I hope it’s me he’ll choose.

His hitch will be up soon.

Let him make my heart swoon.

Let him tell me he’s home to stay.

All my prayers will be answered that day.

————————R.W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

A Mystery Bird On Christmas

   Mystery Bird On Christmas

A bird appeared on the porch today.

A single bird on Christmas day.

Not a partridge or a cardinal.

I wondered if he had far to go?

A black bird. A crow or raven?

I gave him seed. He stayed then.

He brightened up the day for us.

Hopping around and strutting his stuff.

Was this a sign of something coming?

Some kids went by out front, running.

He didn’t fly away. He just watched.

He flapped his wings. Then he stopped.

Moving aside if someone went out,

He wasn’t afraid, just hopped about.

He stayed on the porch all day.

He was a blessing, I must say.

Each time we looked he was there.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was all a mystery to us.

Why did he think we, he could trust?

At sundown he pecked on the door.

Was he hungry and wanted more?

We opened the door and heard him say.

“Merry Christmas,”  and he flew away.

———————–R.W. Johnson—–(2016)

It Was A Lie

             It Was A Lie

I didn’t want you to go away.

Your place is here by my side.

Tell me why you wouldn’t stay?

I wasn’t taking you for a ride.

 

Someone has been telling you lies.

Someone who was jealous of us.

I couldn’t lie to you, even if I tried

There is just no need for all the fuss.

 

You’re the one I’ve always dreamed of.

I felt you were sent from God above.

I cherish you more than life itself.

This is the worst I have ever felt.

You’re hurting from a lie that’s not true.

Please,—– put it all behind you

I was meant for you and you for me.

The happiness is us together, you see.

 

The best times were the two of us.

I never wanted anyone but you.

Have total faith and all your trust

that I am true. On this point you must.

 

Come back. We must make up the time.

I’m so into you. There is no other.

I want to know you are once again mine.

Please believe me. I don’t want another.

 

You’re the one I‘ve always dreamed of.

I felt you were sent from God above.

I cherish you more than life itself.

This is the worst I have ever felt.

You’re hurting from a lie that’s not true.

Please,—–put it all behind you.

I was meant for you and you for me.

The happiness is us together, you see.

———————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Only Way To Travel In Time

 

Only Way To Travel In Time

I had a flash in my mind.

I had an idea about time.

As I walk down this dusty road.

My mind totes a heavy load.

Is time a constant, no variants?

Good thing I carry mints.

I popped one into my mouth.

It was good, as I roamed about.

Is time something we can travel?

Like this dusty road with gravel?

I move in time without moving at all.

I can’t run or move at a crawl.

Yet, something is happening here.

I can’t go back. Only look to the rear.

I move forward at a set speed.

If faster, would I age indeed?

Time travel gets scarier each minute.

One could lose one’s self in it.

The unknowns are a big turn off.

Yet, maybe, it will all burn off.

The how is the big problem here.

Can you travel within a mirror?

About as easy as time travel is.

Possible?  Maybe. But, gee whiz.

There is one way to do it now.

Imagination works somehow.

If you can think it, you can do it.

About as open as it can get.

So, buckle up and go for a ride.

Read Si Fi and ride the tide.

It is something anyone can do.

It sounds perfect for me and you.

—————-R.W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Who Killed The Robin?

Who Killed The Robin? 

Who killed Cock Robin?

Maybe it was a goblin?

Who is Cock Robin?

A bird or a bobbin?

 

Who cares anyway?

One Robin less today.

What else can I say?

Would this make a play?

 

Robins come and robins go.

Maybe killed by a crow?

I say, I just don’t know.

This would be a dumb show.

 

Why write a poem about it?

Started, didn’t want to quit.

I don’t really give a s—.

Now, now, don’t throw a fit.

 

If Robin were alive today.

I wonder what he would say?

He probably can’t talk anyway.

Just rock, bop, and sing all day.

 

That is if he is a bird.

Remember, the bird is the word.

At least, that’s what I’ve heard.

One thing I haven’t heard.

 

Would be a man named Cock.

I can’t say that name rocks.

He would need to be wise, like a fox.

He would be teased  a lot.

 

So, we come around again.

The beginning is the end.

Who killed Cock Robin?

Too bad, but nobody is sobbing.

—————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Mystery Rides The Wind

         Mystery Rides The Wind

Her name was hidden for iniquity.

It’s the ancient knowledge of the wolves.

Identify her and you will see.

She will come, like a devil on hooves.

She is a mystery to the common man.

Coming from an unknown source.

Good or evil, none know her plan..

To see her is a rarity, of course.

The colors that dance on her dress.

Can hypnotize one into a coma.

As she whirls one can only guess.

What magic it will show ya.

Don’t fall in love with her.

You will travel to the clouds on far.

You will be her slave, for sure.

Taken to a land beyond the stars.

Your fate then would be unknown.

None know them, or what they are?

Do you really want to be shown?

Leave her a mystery who rides the wind.

Do not try to pry into her world.

You may end up losing your skin.

Neither angel nor fairy, she is no herald.

What she brings should be left alone.

It is not for mortal man to know.

I hope that you are never shown.

Your existence here will be a no show. 

—————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Christmas Spirit

         Christmas Spirit

It’s a hero’s job, I know.

I heard it on the radio.

It is neither here or there.

It is everywhere.

It is the spirit of love for another.

Treat him like he is your brother.

Bring cheer to all near and far.

It doesn’t matter who they are.

It is the opposite of being a Grinch.

You’d think to do it would be a cinch.

But, it is much harder than it seems.

Such things happen only in dreams.

It is more blessed to give than receive.

Try to tell that to all the thieves.

It is a job not all can handle.

But, it seems, I have started to ramble.

Let it be said, it happens once a year.

At Christmas there is a lot of cheer.

Many step up and become a hero.

Spreading cheer where ever they go.

Few are those who act like Scrooge.

Though many don’t have a holiday mood.

Christmas’s come and they also go.

But, remember. It takes a hero.

———————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

The Library Of Babel

 

        The Library Of Babel

I am trapped with no way out.

I don’t know what it’s all about.

A Library Of Babel with endless rooms.

No way out with no ending soon.

Each door leads to another.

Endless rooms, each open to plunder.

Each room is a different time and age.

A different place to try to engage.

Every language from every time.

Ancient past to future unwinds.

Every story thats written, or will be.

Sitting there for anyone to see.

All bringing babble & more confusion.

Is all this real, or just an illusion?

Nothing to explain what’s going on.

Hallucination or nightmare, it’s all wrong.

Rooms with records of every man’s life.

Be it short or long, with all the strife.

Is this God’s record hall or am I nuts?

This is no place for the likes of us.

There has got to be a way out of here.

Maybe I just had one too many beers?

I don’t know if I am coming or going.

It is hell not really knowing.

I could stay here or move on to another.

Whatever room I’m in, I could smother.

It is too much, too big of a load.

I can’t handle the overload!!

I don’t even know how I got here?

Was I asleep or was it too many beers?

I keep thinking I will wake up.

Yet, here I am. Stuck in this rut.

Then, I have a brilliant idea to try.

“I will find the book of my life,” I cry.

It should tell me how this ends.

Will I be rescued by my friends?

After an eternity of searching,

I find my book where it was lurking

I flip to the final pages.

It says: Still in the works for the ages.

Looks like I will have to make my own ending.

I wonder if this is even trending?

—————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)