Humor – Page 4 – Word Smith Wisdom

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)

It’s A Crazy World

It’s a Crazy World

I was there when it started coming down.

There was no more happiness to be found.

All there was, was heartbreak and misery.

There was no way to reverse it, that I could see.

The parents told me to get the hell out.

But, I wasn’t going to sit around and pout.

I went about proving that they were wrong.

I didn’t want this to take too long.

I was not two timing their daughter.

It was all a bunch of hog fodder.

I will get the bastards who said such a thing.

They are not getting away with anything.

I followed my sources to the very end.

It pays to have some real friends.

The last clue fell into place.

I almost fell right on my face.

The culprit of rumors was my sister.

Just because I wouldn’t kiss her?

I told her it was the wrong thing to do.

I’d rather kiss my girlfriend than I would you.

She vowed to get revenge.

She wasn’t sorry, so why pretend.

So, I gave her a kiss and told her to talk.

Most won’t believe it, as likely as not.

She came clean about the whole darned thing.

Told the parents why she tried to make a scene.

The parents apologized for saying I flirted.

But, still no dating, cause I was perverted.

I almost flew into a rage.

I felt like I was in a cage.

I’m not perverted, it is my sister.

They said that’s a real twister.

How do we know it doesn’t run in the family?

I said, I don’t try to give little girls candy.

They finally relented and said we could date.

My girlfriend said I was a little bit late.

She found another to occupy her time.

This whole thing almost blew my mind.

But, the men is white coats are nice to me.

They let me roam around on the grounds, you see.

My sister comes to visit now and then.

She seems to be dating my X- girlfriend.

———————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2017)

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)

Moderately Confused

Moderately Confused

I want it all, with nothing lacking.

I want it today. Just like fracking

Bring it on. Give me more.

Before I head on out the door.

Love is a four letter word.

You’ll give it all, I’ve heard.

Give me exactly what I need.

No, don’t give me a joint of weed.

I want the real thing.

No, not Coke. I want a fling.

Quit trying to dodge the request.

Let’s put this whole thing to rest.

Do you love me or do you not?

I have pinned you on the spot.

Give the answer and tell the truth.

This is not an election booth.

I have chased you long and hard.

I ran half way across the yard.

It’s time to make some front page news.

It is not time to pick and choose.

Do not say I am too demanding.

What we need is some understanding.

Two people meet. They fall in love.

They are like two turtle doves.

They love each other in every way.

It is not a dirty thing to say.

I’m not weird, I am horny

I know you simply adore me.

Why hold back. The time is now.

Don’t look at me with that scowl.

Lovers are as lovers do.

What do you mean I’m such a fool?

I don’t only talk about sex.

Like it is some kind of hex.

I just want to show you that I care.

Put a flower in your hair.

You’re not falling for any of this.

Can’t I even have a kiss?

What the hell? As she slammed the door.

All I wanted was a little more.

———————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Shutdown In Bed

Shutdown In Bed

It happened on a day when all was right.

Two hot cars, looking out of sight.

The day was here for the big race.

They both would give it all it takes.

My fuel injected Sting Ray and a 413.

Revving up their engines and sounding mean.

When the flag went down we were off.

All the smoking tires could make you cough.

He was getting rubber in every gear.

But, I was still out front without any fear.

All was just a blur as scenery flew by.

He was getting beat by ’that other guy.’

‘That other guy’,—- meaning me.

I was ahead, and all could see.

He had a ram induction, but it’s understood.

I had a fuel injected engine sitting under my hood.

Just before I won, I woke up in bed.

What were these dreams in my head?

I don’t race cars. I’m way too old.

I would never do something so bold.

Must be a flashback of childhood dreams.

Brought on by The Beach Boys “Shutdown,” it seems.

That song made me feel alive back then.

Now, I’m dreaming I am at it again.

————————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

A Fight To The End

A Fight To The End

The guns kept firing night and day.

The war was over, but they will not obey.

They will never surrender their will.

They will fight and continue to kill.

They are free and will stay that way.

Better to die than give that away.

They have their God and their religion.

Their dove of peace won’t be a pidgin.

There is no white flag above their door.

They are dedicated to their very core.

Guerrilla fighters, they’ve been called.

They fight at night and in the fog.

They do all that they can do

to not surrender, like a common fool.

Their spirit is strong. Their cause is true.

They are fighting for me and you.

True, they see no end in sight.

Still they battle with all their might.

They must be admired for their zest.

They will give all for their quest.

Women and children will fight too.

There is nothing they won’t do for you.

Who are these fearless fighters, I say?

They are those who want a better way.

They are known by their cause.

They want better overalls.

————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Human Lab Rats

Changes are happening to you.
I can tell it through and through.
Changes are happening to me too.
What in the world are we going to do?

Just one sip of this ‘wonder drug.’
It didn’t take much to change your mug.
I am surprised that it changed me too.
Now I am starting to look like you.

This drug, we may not want to keep.
The mirror cracked when I took a peek.
Do you think we will be a hit with girls?
They will instantly break out in curls.

If we can get past all the screaming.
Maybe our lives will have some meaning.
We could be monsters in a horror show.
Scare people way back in the last row.

Quit necking long enough to scream.
It will cause panic and quite a scene.
We will become instant horror stars.
That is, if we don’t end up behind bars.

We’ll be the hit of the Monster Mash.
We will become a graveyard smash.
Not the results we originally wanted.
We’ll make the most of being taunted.

We might even make a ‘how too’ movie.
Now, wouldn’t that be real groovy?
Our lab screw up will make us idols.
Even though, we get chased by Fido.

————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Love The Hard Way

I think that I will never see.
Since you beat the hell out of me.
My eyes are blackened and all puffed up.
Just because I asked you “What’s sup?”

There was a time I would have won.
I would have fought back some.
But, now I just roll with the punches.
Don’t hit a girl is what my hunch is.

Don’t go around breaking little girls hearts.
They will get pissed and rip you apart.
But, I didn’t do a thing to deserve this.
The rumor mill has really got me pissed.

Beat up by a girl is the ultimate insult.
I would rather fight gators in a moat.
Especially when I didn’t do a thing.
The rumor mill said I had a fling.

It is all lies!!—– Dirty rotten lies!!
My last girl tried to claw out my eyes.
She probably started the rumors.
I should set fire to her bloomers.

Women. ….It should be: Whoa, men.
Beware!!—– Here she comes again!!
She will turn you every way but loose.
You will feel like you were hit by a caboose.

Why should men be abused by women?
“It’s not unheard of.” Said milk toast, grinning.
“Show superiority. Scratch them with your whiskers.”
She would like it better if I only kissed her.

Two weeks later, I could see again.
I knew I was different than other men.
She forgave me and made love to me.
But, I didn’t do wrong. Can’t she see?

Just forget it and reap the reward.
Love from her is a gift not ignored.
Maybe it’s true. Men fire on one cylinder.
I hope this thought isn’t killing her.

Our relationship is much better now.
We learned to trust through this somehow.
A world without trust is a world of hurt.
Usually for me, from the one in the skirt.

—————————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

There is a mystery around every turn.
Someone threw a ‘glob’ into the churn.
People who used the butter didn’t get sick.
They didn’t thrash around due to a fit.
They developed some amazing powers.
They could predict rain, or just a shower.
They could see a plane fly overhead.
Tell you who was onboard & who they wed.
Given any object at all, they knew its history.
Right back to the day it was made. No mystery.
They could track better than the best blood hound.
They could even ‘root out’ an evil clown.
Such powers haven’t been known before.
Where did they come from? What’s at its core?
The word is, an alien handled the ‘glob.’
No, it wasn’t Uncle Bob.

He is an alien too.
But, not the kind we were exposed to.
What was the object with such a gift?
Did he make other aliens miffed?
Such powers in our hands could be a hazard.
Election day would go bad for the bastards.
Nothing would get past those with ‘the power.’
Election day would be the ‘bewitching hour.’
But, never fear—-“Power Man” is here.
Just kick back and have a beer.
“Power Man” will weed out the truth.
No need to go to the voting booth.
He will set you straight on all, but your mate.
He has to draw the line somewhere. It’s fate..
It is now a better world. Thanks to the ‘glob.’
With just a little help from Uncle Bob.

————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Finite Man

Lucinda was mine
Till the time
That I found her
Holding Finn.
Loving him.
Then you came along.
Loved me strong.
That’s what I thought.
Then, me and you,
That died too.
Don’t know that I will
But until
I can find me
A little girl who will stay,
And not play
Games behind me.
I will be what I am.
A finite man.
A finite man.
This poem can
Make you a better man.
Sounds like “Solitary Man.”
Do it, if you can.
No need for women to trample man.
When you can be a finite man.
Take things in hand.
Come on boy.
I know you can.

——————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

Category: Humor