March 2016 – Page 2 – Word Smith Wisdom

School Of Hard Knocks

Two little boys were huddled together.
They were in the alley, despite the weather.
They had something on the ground.
They were fascinated by what they found.
It was a little non-descript box.
The excitement could blow off their socks.
They were trying to get it open.
They thought maybe it was broken.
They had no key & there was no slot.
Yet, they knew they had to lift the top.
They twisted, pulled, pried, & cussed.
There had to be a way to make it bust.
They had no idea what was inside.
It didn’t rattle around, though they tried.
What in the world could it be?
It was a total mystery, they could see.
They decided to take the box home.
It was about the size of an old phone.
Not too heavy, but not really light.
Put in a backpack, it was just right.
At home, they went in the garage.
A big old hammer should do the job.
They beat the hell out of it.
Nothing happened. More cussing & spit.
They tried a drill, but the bit broke.
They took a brake & drank a Coke.
Then they tried to saw it open.
All they tried eventually got broken.
Looking close, they saw a little lip.
They put a pry tool under it.
After a lot of effort, the lid popped open.
Inside the box was a little token.
Stuck to the bottom to keep it still.
Was this worth all their stubborn will?
It said: I LIKE IKE in big letters.
That really fluffed up their feathers.
They threw the box in the trash.
Later they saw their dad with cash.
He said: “I found a box worth money.”
“It had an I LIKE IKE button in it worth plenty.”
Both the kids looked abashed.
Their big treasure had turned to ash.
Let this be a lesson well learned.
If you’re too greedy, you could get burned.

————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Man Finds His Pot Of Gold

I would like to get on my own boat someday.
Plot my course and sail away.
I have a long distance goal in mind.
That pot of gold at the end of the line.
The one that is at the end of all rainbows.
The one that is out where the grain grows.
That ‘non-existent’ prize awaits.
For anyone to get who has the faith.
Maybe it won’t be actual gold.
Maybe it will be something untold.
I will recognize it when it comes along.
I will be dancing and singing my song.
Finally, the day did arise.
I quit my job and set off to find the prize.
I had studied sailing. I was skilled in my ways.
There would never be a better day.
I sailed from here to there.
After awhile, I had been almost everywhere.
Then, I finally sailed home.
I was back and all alone.
This beautiful woman was at my port.
She said “Nice boat. You must be a real sport.”
I told her everywhere I had been.
She said she wished she had gone then.
We got to talking, and before long,
we were having lunch and singing our song.
I invited her to go out on a short sail.
She accepted. She loved sailing, without fail.
In a couple months I realized I found it.
That prize. That pot of gold. I could quit.
I found what I was looking for.
It was here all along. Right at my door.
It was her, who is now my wife.
Looks like happy sailing for the rest of my life.

———————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

A Clown Apocalypse

There is a war coming our way.
No, it is not a zombie apocalypse.
It is clowns,—– clowns I say.
They are kicking ass & taking no lip.
Have you read Stephen King’s “It?”
These clowns are way worse than that.
These clowns will not take any s—t.
They may be clowns from hell and back.
No one knows where they come from.
When your worst nightmare attacks,
don’t worry about, ‘How did they come?’
Not funny. They are vicious and deadly.
They will rip you up, roll you in a bun.
Add catsup & mustard & they are ready.
You will be a meal for one.
What can we do to stop such a horror?
That question has puzzled many.
Best way is yell “What a bore!!”
This will upset them plenty.
Deep down inside they are still clowns.
True, clowns that have gone ‘bad.’
They want the attention that abounds.
To think they aren’t the star is sad.
Soon, they go bonkers & do themselves in.
A bad review does it every time.
It takes nerve, but this is the way we win.
A world without ‘bad’ clowns is just fine.

—————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

The Best Laid Plans Danced Away

The time was approaching for the weekly dance.
I had a date.—– I finally took a chance.
Soon, we were there, out on the floor.
We had the moves. Everyone yelling for more.
Moving in & moving out. Dancing toe to toe.
While everyone around was yelling ‘Go man go!!’.
The sweat was popping out of my head.
My feet were getting tired, feeling like lead.
Finally, we had the chance to dance slowly.
She snuggled right up to me, fully.
After a couple slow ones, it got fast again.
I would show her she was more than a friend.
I started with the ‘Dirty Dancing’ grind.
She was moving well. She didn’t seem to mind.
Belly to belly. Belly to back.
Better than making love in a Cadillac.
Everyone stopped just to watch us go.
It seems we were really stealing the show.
I said “It’s hot in here. Let’s go outside.”
She said “Keep on dancing. Right by my side.”
I said “Let’s stop and get a drink.”
She said “Drink, drink, drink, oh fiddly dink.”
“I can dance with a drink in my hand.”
She didn’t want to stop. Neither did the band.
Seems I started something I can’t stop.
I felt like stopping, right on the spot.
But, this girl was ‘hot’, in more ways than one.
Later, I wanted to have another type of fun.
I thought, maybe, I could fake a fall.
A ‘sprained ankle’ would end it all.
Then, I figured she would find another.
Nope, I had to keep on dancing. Help me mother.
We danced till I thought I couldn’t dance no more.
Finally, the time came to go out the door.
It turned out she was too tired for anything but bed.
So was I when all was done and said.

——————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

He Has Bottomed Out

I dream of the person I might have been.
I could have been great!! I say it again.
But, something pulled me down to hell.
Like a mill stone around my neck. I can tell.
That something is you. You drug me down.
You’re a devil woman, not a clown.
You play your game with major skill.
In no time, you had captured my will.
You made me despise myself.
Made me feel like I need beat with a belt.
I gave all I could, but you wanted more.
You sucked me dry of all I adore.
You cursed me. You wanted to from the start.
Making statements like we will never be apart.
There is nothing worth saving in you.
You should be stomped under someone’s shoe.
You are a demon from hell working your spell.
My ego is lower than the deepest well.
I have to fall out of bed to be somewhat up.
I have drank your poison from a bitter cup.
I will never recover from what you did to me.
I am a ruined wreck of a man. Can’t you see?
There is nowhere for me to go from here.
I have reached my final end. Is that clear?
Move on down the road & leave me in peace.
I have gone as far down as I can reach.
I will never see the light of day again.
Just let me rot here in my den of sin.
Cover me over with the last of your scorn.
Be assured, I will never be reborn.

———————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)