The Mystery Of Schizophrenia

 

      The Mystery Of Schizophrenia

He was locked away in a padded room.

He just sat there in the gloom.

He did have outbursts in the past.

Now, he seems calm, at last.

The diagnosis is Schizophrenia, Undifferentiated.

Though a Psych diagnosis is highly overrated.

He is obviously in a world of his own.

Sometimes he will smile. Other times he will moan.

Mostly, he likes to be left alone.

Exactly what is going on in him is not known.

Sometimes he will eat, other times he must be fed.

He will usually use the floor as his bed.

Are there demons screaming in his head?

He is totally delusional, it is said.

They have tried Electro Convulsive Therapy.

The response is less than they want it to be.

Sometimes he talks, but it makes no sense.

Maybe it does where he went.

If you had the ability to read minds.

And you entered his, what would you find?

Would you want to come back out again?

Or, would you stay there within.

Would it be like entering the 7th level of hell?

Or, would it be an escape from this place we know well?

What has happened to him & why it does

is still a mystery that eludes us.

Some day we may open that door.

And the patient may say: “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

—————————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow’s Game

Tomorrow’s Game

Tomorrow’s game will be done a different way.
There will be changes that are here to stay.
A I will require different rules.
Privacy is out. An automatic loose.
Androids, cyborgs, and humans too.
Will there be any chance for you?
Sex with a robot will be an extreme.
Much more pleasurable than it would seem.
Who says one life style is better than another?
Will a long black tube be your mother?
Someone of today’s mind thought won’t fit in.
It will be hard to tell what is and isn’t sin.
Science fiction is what you say.
Let’s hope you won’t live to see that day.——R.W. Johnson—–(2019)

No Man Is An Island

 

      No man Is An Island

Emotions are like a killer disease.

From the inside out, ripping you apart.

Destroying all that you are with ease.

It starts working first in the heart.

The seat of all your strong emotions.

Like love, desire, and admiration.

Nothing helps. No kind of lotions.

Nor, anything you do in desperation.

You are a rock. You are an island.

A rock feels no pain, & an island never cries.

Like the song by Paul Simon.

 

But, this also means he never tries.

The disease has reached his brain.

It is doing its deceitful work.

At this stage, he feels no pain.

He has totally withdrawn, like a jerk.

He can no longer function in society.

He has withdrawn all contact.

 

Don’t say you have your books

and poetry to protect you.

You should say you’re goose is cooked.

If what you say were really true,

you would not have a problem.

Man is meant to be a social animal.

Your soul is distorting, like a goblin.

Becoming a microbe, instead of a mammal.

You need to swallow your pride.

You need to harden your heart.

You need to go forth, a new man inside.

Time for you to make a new start.

—————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

 

 

 

Heart Resuscitation

 

      Heart Resuscitation

Let me take you to a cold, black place.

Don’t worry, we’ll go at your pace.

A place that’s shriveled and dead.

No, it’s not a place in my head.

Your beauty will light up the place.

Warmth from you will fill the space.

Warmth from your kindness and

understanding.  A  real man

would blossom with the touch of it.

It will revive something that won’t quit.

Love would be reborn & thrive.

Like the Phoenix, it would raise

and grow, encompassing us both.

It would be like waking a ghost.

Love, long dead from a tragic past.

Would thrive again, & this time last.

Yes, the cold, black place is my heart.

In my past,—- it was torn apart.

Crushed,—- and  presumed dead.

That was until you got into my head.

Please, help me put her out of my heart.

Then, you’ll have me & we will never part.

———————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

A Lost Pixie Finds Home

 

      A Lost Pixie Finds Home

She awoke thinking about  this.

He’s been gone long enough to miss.

There was a whisper of light.

A rare thing since it was night.

The moon was full, time to collect.

She never left this to neglect.

She was alone in the down under.

She could still hear rain and thunder.

Tonight, though, it was warm pleasure.

Time to look for more treasure.

She arose, washed her face, hands, & feet.

She didn’t look for food to eat.

She got her box with light within.

Off she went, her face had a grin.

 

She is Auril, a pixie. Named by him.

She didn’t have a name till then.

No memory of her past exists.

All her knowledge is just this.

She didn’t know she was a pixie.

Though, very small, this she could see.

She was like those above.

Like him, except he didn’t shove.

He rubbed against the world.

Yet, he accepted her and she was thrilled.

She only knew herself, no others.

This was her world. She knew no mother.

Silent things were her company.

They all impressed her. One could see.

She knew each thing had a special vibe.

She could read this far and wide.

 

She made her way out of down under.

Watchful not to attract like thunder.

She slipped off into the woods.

In search of food & what she could.

She went where she hadn’t been before.

A space in the trees,— like a door.

Moonlight guided her path.

Then, she heard a little laugh.

Quiet as moss growing on a rock,

she slipped up to the spot.

It was like she was drawn there.

There was laughter & singing in the air.

A pond with a waterfall at one end.

Fairies and pixies were swimming within.

Some were sitting on the shore.

Behind them were even more.

They were giving off vibes, bright.

Singing and playing in the moonlight.

She quietly slipped down among them.

All of them stopped and began to grin.

“Our lost sister has finally come home.”

Auril said “What?,” Then she was shown.

“Your mother & you were caught by men.

Long ago. We felt we wouldn’t see you again.”

“We felt your essence when we came back”

“But, we didn’t know where you were at.”

‘Every full moon, we would come, all of us.”

“Hoping you would be drawn here thus.

“So here you are, back at last, where you belong”

“It has been years since you have been gone.”

She told them she had no memory of her past.

They said her mother’s essence winked out fast.

They knew that she had died, or was killed.

Still, your essence, had not been fulfilled.

She told them how a man had named her.

How he came, at times, just to make sure

she was o.k. Otherwise, he left her to herself.

The fairies and pixies prayed for his health.

“Such a man is rare.” they said.

“He didn’t let it all go to his head”

So, ends the story of the lost pixie.

She made it home like it should be.

As an afterthought, she saw the man again.

She thanked him &. wished the best for him.

“If others treated fairies & pixies like that.”

She said,” it would be a different world. It’s a fact.”

———————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

 

 

 

 

Love That Brings Change

      Love That Brings Change

What does it mean when the sky turns brown?

When people’s smiles turn into a frown?

When birds stop singing and fly away?

When you get more angry with everything I say?

 

What does it mean when sweets are bitter?

When a winner soon becomes a quitter.?

When hot air balloon rides are no longer fun?

When we are back to where we have begun?

 

Why am I wrong to insist that I am right?

To scream & holler when all are uptight?

To act like an ass while in a museum?

To make everyone there feel like leaving?

 

Have I stepped over some unseen bounds?

Maybe, played the part of an insane clown?

Maybe came completely unglued?

Maybe, acted like a spoiled prude?

 

It seems I have done all this and more.

Now, I am no longer welcome at your door.

I have embarrassed you in front of your friends.

There is no quicker way to bring on an end.

 

What can I say and what can I do?

I am still madly in love with you.

I need a attitude adjustment and more.

Till I can no longer pick myself up off the floor.

 

Yet, it is a fact of life. Love brings heartache and strife.

Much of it brought on by my own actions in life.

I admit, I need to step back and take a look at myself.

Try to understand how other people have felt.

 

I love you with an undying love from the heart.

But, I sabotage it and rip it apart.

I am a winner who can never really win.

I will screw myself over before the end.

 

It is wise to learn from your mistakes.

I just hope and pray I am not too late.

It won’t be easy, but I will look in the mirror.

Then say “You will change, or die alone, I fear.”

————————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gone, But Not Forgotten

 

      Gone, But Not Forgotten

I thought the obituary surly lied.

How could Charlie have ever died?

I felt like crying, but tears wouldn’t come.

Way back, Charlie and I had so much fun.

 

Charlie was the kind of guy

who would take any dare, come do or die.

He did tons of crazy things.

Yet, he was never hurt. He earned his wings.

 

He had his way with the women too.

He scored with twice the girls as me & you.

He had a line that wouldn’t quit.

The women went for every bit of it.

 

He was the class clown in school.

He perfected the part of being the fool.

Charlie stood tall. A man among men.

A real hero,— again and again.

 

We probably have all known a ‘Charlie.’

Somewhere back in our iniquity.

A guy with similar traits.

A guy who rarely made mistakes.

 

He married the most popular girl in school.

I wish she would have carried my books too.

He did his hitch in the Army.

Had an honorable discharge , then started farming.

 

He came to every school reunion.

The hearts of the girls he would soon win.

A guy like him always came out on top.

He would say: “Make the most of what you’ve got.”

 

He did that all his life, till that day

they found something that wouldn’t go away.

A deadly disease took him down.

What a way to put an end to the class clown.

 

He loved life to the fullest.

He’ll be remembered,— I know it.

His oldest boy is just like him.

He might as well have been his twin.

 

As chance would have it, his name is Charlie too.

Of course, he is close to me and you.

Through him Charlie lives on.

Sometimes it’s almost like he was never gone.—R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

Fantasy Love

      Fantasy Love

I’m hidden away in a secret place.

It is in my mind where there is no trace.

No trace that I have even visited.

No one gets in unless listed.

Currently, there is only me on that list.

This fortress of solitude exists.

It is only for me to use.

I escape all my stress and choose

to be by myself in solitude.

 

What is this? Something scratching at the door.

How did this happen? It’s never happened before.

It is you wanting to be let in.

My resistance is wearing thin.

If I let you in it could destroy me.

You could be the Kryptonite to my powers that be.

It is a gamble to my very existence.

To comply would be to drop all resistance.

Let you romp freely through my mind.

With no dead ends of any kind.

This would create a bond.

Stronger than any magic wand.

The two of us would be as one.

Provided you share with me some.

Open up your mind to me.

Let me wander and be free.

Maybe I will find the love there.

That, in my mind, is everywhere.

The love I have for you.

Do you have the same for me too?

I see it now.— It is there.

We are off to all we can bare.

To a land beyond the sea.

Beyond the stars, just you and me.

We will sail the river of hope.

Laughing and singing ,  I give you a poke.

Just a light tap in fun.

Then we will be on the run.

Jumping from one giant mushroom to another.

Just having fun. So much in love with each other.

Finally, we will return to the fortress of solitude.

A new one, not created for a multitude.

But, created for only you and I.

No one else can ever pry.

All I need is you and you alone.

You feel the same about me, you’ve shown.

There we will stay in ecstasy

Till we go again to the world created for only you and me.

—————————————————————R.W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘Don Juan’ Bites The Dust

 

     ‘Don Juan’ Bites The Dust!!

“I never thought I would see the day.”

“I have never seen him act this way.”

“But, it is true” I began to moan.

“He is going home alone.”

This has never happened before.

He has always been able to score.

Was it something that he said?

Or maybe, something that she said.

He has never turned up empty handed.

Don’t say anything, or he will get branded.

They will start calling him a loser.

It might drive him to become a boozer.

I caught up with him & asked, “well?”

He said ”Someday I will marry that girl.”

He walked off & went on his way.

Left me there with nothing to say.

I don’t know what happened between the 2 of them.

I doubted it would ever happen again.

It was a different results to trust.

Our ‘Don Juan” hero has bit the dust.

I didn’t even know the girl’s name.

I guess the results would be the same.

‘Don Juan’ was, apparently, smitten by her.

It was the first time, that’s for sure.

Exactly where it goes from here

is up to them, that much is clear.

I think a legend has passed into history.

He met his match, now, he no longer wants to be free.

————————————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

 

The Mystery Of Schizophrenia

      The Mystery Of Schizophrenia

He was locked away in a padded room.

He just sat there in the gloom.

He did have outbursts in the past.

Now, he seems calm, at last.

The diagnosis is Schizophrenia, Undifferentiated.

Though a Psych diagnosis is highly overrated.

He is obviously in a world of his own.

Sometimes he will smile. Other times he will moan.

Mostly, he likes to be left alone.

Exactly what is going on in him is not known.

Sometimes he will eat, other times he must be fed.

He will usually use the floor as his bed.

Are there demons screaming in his head?

He is totally delusional, it is said.

They have tried Electro Convulsive Therapy.

The response is less than they want it to be.

Sometimes he talks, but it makes no sense.

Maybe it does where he went.

If you had the ability to read minds.

And you entered his, what would you find?

Would you want to come back out again?

Or, would you stay there within.

Would it be like entering the 7th level of hell?

Or, would it be an escape from this place we know well?

What has happened to him & why it does

is still a mystery that eludes us.

Some day we may open that door.

And the patient may say: “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

—————————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)