Leave The Past In The Past

 

        Leave The Past In The Past


He drifted into town. He stayed all alone.

No one knew where he called home.

He kept to himself. He liked it that way.

They say, it was likely, he wouldn’t stay.

He was a mountain of a man. Easy to spot.

Most tried to avoid him, likely as not.

Then came the day when men were crying.

The café caught fire & people were frying.

He ran in & carried people out.

Two at a time. He was stout.

He survived, but was badly burned.

He had little money, it was learned.

Through donations his bill was paid.

He got a job worth his pay grade.

He was called “Big Bad John,” after the song.

It wasn’t his name, but he went along.

One day he walked into church.

He sat in a pew like it was a perch.

He decided to tell the pastor. He was no fool.

He told the pastor his past, which no one knew.

The pastor turned white, while sitting in the pew.

Yet, he knew the story he was told was true.

“None of this is a sin by you, son.”

I Know”, he said, “Thy will be done.”

The pastor invited him to join the church.

He said he would, for what it is worth.

It wasn’t long till he became a deacon.

He accepted without even blinking.

He met his soul mate at the church.

They dated a year. He put her first.

The wedding was a lovely one.

The whole town came, just for the fun.

Within a year they had a little boy.

He grew like a weed. He was their joy.

He was a chip off his old man’s block.

Looked just like him. Solid as a rock.

Then, some bad men came to town.

They were following the son around.

One day they grabbed the son and tied him up.

They weren’t gentle. They treated him rough.

They called his dad and said “We have your son.”

“You tried to get away, but you could never run.”

“We hunted for you for years. Now, you are ours.”

“Your son will die if you don’t meet us at the bar.”

His past had caught up with him.

He knew that he had not done a sin.

But, he might now, if his son was hurt.

He flexed his muscles, which tore his shirt.

He went  to the bar. His son was there with them.

They immediately put a knife under his chin.

His son strained his bonds and broke free.

He started kicking ass on the closest creep.

Soon, father and son were mopping up the floor.

Till the bad guys couldn’t fight anymore.

They were turned over to the police.

They went to prison for kidnapping the son.

It was party time for everyone.

People shouted “Like father, like son.”

Soon, election time had begun.

The Dad was elected mayor on a write in.

Everyone felt real safe with him.

A deacon, mayor, hero, and local legend.

He was very proud to be their leader then.

His life was much better than his secretive past.

He only prayed daily that it would last.

———————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

The Hitchhiker’s Guide To Happiness

       The Hitchhiker’s Guide To Happiness

I met her while hitching through the western states.

She said she was ‘drifting’, if I heard her straight.

She gave me a lift into Reno, where we stopped.

We shared a room to save on the cost.

We decided to travel together. We needed jobs.

We found them in a casino. We beat the odds.

I worked security and she was a dealer.

We lasted about a year till long hours defeated her.

We pulled up stakes and traveled on.

Ended up in San Jose. I got work before dawn.

She painted and sold them on the street.

Also at flea markets and at artist meets.

We liked where we were. It was quiet.

Till we got caught up in a Trump riot.

We decided to look for greener pastures.

I remembered a little place from last year.

We ended up in Pahrump. Not a lot here.

Desert like country. Hot . I needed a cold beer.

Little work to be found. Fast food or car wash.

In two months we left, at any cost.

We headed for an ocean side town.

Much cooler for us all around.

Fishing and work with seafood was good.

We had a good time doing what we should.

We came to depend on one another.

Before she knew, I was more than a brother.

She became the most important thing to me.

We stayed six months, before we got itchy feet.

We went east and ended up down south.

The Alabama food was watering to our mouth.

We ended up in New Orleans during Marti Gras.

Things were kicked back. There was no boss.

We liked it and wanted to stay for awhile.

We found good jobs and were living in style.

I started thinking of maybe settling down.

She looked at me with a funny frown.

She really didn’t have much more to say.

Then, came that wonderful, fateful day.

She told me she was in a ‘family’ way.

She was pregnant, she meant to say.

So, we decided to marry and settle down.

This would be our final town.

I am not sorry for the way it turned out.

You will never see me sit and pout.

I had all I wanted the day I met her.

It was the end of her ‘drifting’, that’s for sure.

We now have two boys, who are doing fine.

I sit back with a glass of wine.

I said, “Let’s make a toast to their future.”

“If they ‘drift’, let them be true to her.”

“For they will find the girl of their dreams.”

“Let them enjoy the road and all it brings.”

—————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Freedom Has Its Price

Freedom Has Its Price 

See the wild horses running free.

The eagle flies far above the trees.

The butterfly flirts here and there.

There is freedom everywhere.

 

My heart is chained and nailed down.

I have no freedom to move around.

If I try to be free, I will not succeed.

I am caught in the spell you’ve weaved.

 

Usually, lovers don’t want to be free.

They are enjoying all they see.

In this case,—- it is a living hell.

I am being smothered, I can tell.

 

There is no way out for me.

I will die in total misery.

You will never let me go.

I am the star of your show.

 

Without you I am half a man.

With you, I only do what I can.

I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.

I feel like I should, but you know I won’t

 

This is going to end in a bad way.

I can see it coming this very day.

It will be nasty for both of us.

I can’t just get on the bus.

 

There may be 50 ways to leave your lover.

But, my only way out is like no other.

I can separate the light from the dark.

Despite saying we will never part.

 

Where I go you won’t be able to follow.

I am not talking about Sleepy Hollow.

It will all come as a shock to you.

Then, you will realize you have been a fool.

————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Love Is A Mystery

        Love Is A Mystery

There is mysteries all around.

Always, there are more found.

But, the greatest of them all

is love. Do you hear its call?

 

It can beacon from near or far.

It can reach you where you are.

Some love makes no sense at all.

Others can leave you standing tall.

 

Love can come and love can go.

Love can make your entire show.

Be it sweet or heartbreaking.

Love is worth the undertaking.

 

Love can lift your spirits high.

Love can hurt till you want to die.

It can tear your heart into.

It can make a fool of you.

 

Love can fill your every need.

It can leave you wondering , indeed.

love for one another is great.

Each giving what they take.

 

Why love comes our way

is a mystery for every day.

Where it comes and where it goes

only God really seems to know.

 

You can know how to make it better.

Or, you can get a ‘Dear John’ letter.

Just give love as you want to be loved.

The rest will come from God above.

——————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Mother Nature

 

        Mother Nature

It was carried on the air.

You could hear it everywhere.

It reaches deep within your soul.

Stimulating you from head to toe.

 

It has a fragrance with it too.

The smell of spring or morning dew.

Fairies dance in its glow.

You’ll speed up, then take it slow.

 

It is around us every day.

Stimulating in every way.

Makes the old feel young.

Making every moment fun.

 

What it is, you haven’t a clue?

The parade is passing by you.

Take some time to smell the roses.

Listen to the song it composes.

 

See the colors in her dress.

She always dresses in her best.

She spins and twirls all around you.

It is Mother Nature, always true.

—————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

 

Not The Way Of Nature

      Not The Way Of Nature

We were going down a narrow path.

“Hands up, or I’ll blow away your ass!!”

We were mugged on a mountain trail.

“Is nowhere safe!,” my partner wailed.

 

The man had his face covered up.

His hand was steady, sure enough.

The pistol he used looked big to us.

Fast and efficient, without any fuss.

 

This man has probably done this before.

From the non-descript clothes he wore.

He was average height and weight.

A Caucasian, make no mistake.

 

I wouldn’t know him if I saw him again.

Except for one little thing, my friend.

In my wallet was an explosive ink pack.

It’s on his hands now. I’m sure of that.

 

I only had it for demonstration purposes.

I sell them,—– but the worst is

It won’t wash off. He’ll be marked for a month.

This could help lawmen get the jump.

 

He is probably wearing gloves in the summer.

Very suspicious and a real bummer.

Hopefully, they will nail his hide.

Not right to rob people when outside.

 

Not right to rob people at all.

Time for him to take a fall.

Then my nature walks will go my way.

I can hardly wait till that day.-

——————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

The ‘Cosmic Trigger.’

           The ‘Cosmic Trigger’

It was something called a ‘Cosmic Trigger.’

Sent from the Dog Star.—– Go figure.

What it was can’t be described.

If I told you, you’d say I lied.

 

Call it mystic. Call it spiritual.

It didn’t require a ritual.

It was ‘dogmatic’, to say the least.

Some say it released the beast.

 

Call it an idea or an epiphany.

A ‘New World Order’, or a mystery.

It started as a movement of minds.

Like thinkers, drawing their lines.

 

It was a thing way overdue.

It was tasty, like a porridge stew.

It wasn’t food, nor anything close.

It was just pleasant to most.

 

It was a new way of thinking.

A way to make the most of linking.

Linking one to another to one goal.

A drawing together of the inner soul.

 

Every person becomes as one.

An equal meaning for everyone.

Central and equal in every way.

It will lead us to the stars someday.

 

One for all and all for one.

The 3 Musketeers have finally won.

The whole world pulling together.

Toward a central goal forever.

 

Did aliens dabble in world affairs??

Are we showing off their wares??

Are we better off with the ‘Cosmic Trigger?’

Or, was it just blanks?—–Go figure.

—————————R.W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Infatuated

              Infatuated

The aqua color in your eyes

matches the sea at sunrise.

The tan color of your skin

Shows the beauty from within.

 

The color of your lovely hair

Is enough to make me care.

Your stature, straight and tall

is like a goddess; you enthrall.

 

Your lips are of a color, rare

that blends with all you wear.

Your walk is quite the sight,

it brings one to his knees , alright.

 

But, the beauty from within

Is what makes you a win.

You are ‘personality plus’

with nothing I don’t trust.

 

With all of this going out the door,

you are someone I can’t ignore.

Somehow, I have to make you mine.

Someone I can cherish for all  time.

—————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

 

 

The Mystery Of Life

          The Mystery Of Life

I found it’s like a squeaky door.

Squeeze through to see some more.

Once there you wonder where to go?

Not possible to blend with the flow.

You get bumped and jerked around.

Never knowing where you’re bound.

If you knew up from down while here.

You might be able to make it clear.

You just want to get through it.

Keep the stress to a little bit.

But, things are never easy.

Even if you are a little sleazy.

Over time you learn much more.

What am I really here for?

Take it all and form a picture.

Mental process is much richer.

Time flies by and you reach the end.

Which way will you go my friend?

Will you slip out quietly?

Or, make headlines for all to see?

What you did here lives on.

In the memory of others who carry on.

What comes next, you haven’t a clue.

Take it on faith. Don’t be a fool.

Some peoples trips are shorter.

Other’s are a lot longer.

Either way, your beginnings are the same.

Your endings may not be yours to claim.

Yet, after exiting, all blends together.

In the minds of those who write these letters.

—————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

The Desert Blooms

         The Desert Blooms

It is always hot in this desert town.

Even in the winter it is warm.

Not many want to hang around.

It is a hell of a place to be born.

Those raised here stay around the most.

If not for that, there’d be only ghosts.

Then what was she doing in this town?

Originally she was passing through.

Good looking, yet hanging around?

Got herself a job at the diner too.

She doesn’t talk about her past.

Mostly, she just stays to herself.

I didn’t think her stay would last.

Yet, she’s never asked for help.

One morning we got to talking.

She shared a few interests with me.

Enough that I didn’t feel like walking.

Hiking, fishing, and bikes, you see.

I asked her if she would come,

I could take her to some real action.

Sunday there would be a dirt bike run.

Ride like the wind if you have traction.

She said yes and it was settled.

Sunday I went to pick her up.

She had a dirt bike. Not one you peddle.

I put it in the back of my pickup truck.

We went out to Big Sand Hill.

Lots of bikers already there.

Trying to ride to the top for a thrill.

Most didn’t get anywhere.

I took off and barely made it over.

She came right after and came right up.

The first girl to make it over.

She was too good for it to be luck.

She wouldn’t say where she learned to ride.

She made it up several more times that day.

She made it every time she tried.

I fell more times than I want to say.

I said she could ride. Next we’ll try fishing.

She said she would be happy to go.
I didn’t want work to think she was missing.

Evening is a good time to go.

That next evening I towed my boat.

We went to the river to launch it.

In an hour, I thought I could gloat.

But, I had three more fish to get.

She had caught three more than me.

She wouldn’t say where she learned to fish.

She was good. Said it made her feel free.

The outdoors type and still a real dish.

I offered hiking next. There was no winner.

I really am not the competitive type.

She said she wasn’t either, so would go.

There is nothing but fun to take a hike.

That weekend we were ready to go.

We hiked about ten miles to a deserted mine.

It was a pretty desert spot there.

It was a good place to kill some time.

We started talking. I didn’t care.

She finally told me of her past.

She ran away from fame and glory.

She knew that life wouldn’t last.

That was the end of her story.

I said I didn’t think so. It had just begun.

She said what did I mean?

If you feel like I do hon.

Then you know just what I mean.

She smiled and gave me a big kiss.

I knew I was into something good.

This could lead to real bliss.

In this desert with nothing good.

————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)