Gumball
Do you ever
Wonder why?
Silence sits
Coiled and posied
Its apearence
Appears unexpectant
The dark shape it has
Is Easly recognizable
Watching the blades of grass
Winds sweeping them......
Their texture moves eneven
They have talked before
A gumball, bought from machine on the street
The choice received was red
Its color painted on my lips
Facinating me of your thoughts
Or finger tips..........
poem by Howard Johnson
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Lost poem
An old familiar song
A tarnish silver cup
Filed with old wine
An old pavilion
The place where people of
Not to long ago.
Held each other close.
While dancing in a circle.
Its warped and paint flaked boards.
Distract from what it once was.
The memorial live within those who love.
will the butterflys return showing.
Their color of clamor.
These memories kept behind a lost page.
In my writing book
poem by Howard Johnson
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Look inside
Crimson shrieked into
An audible blush
Hush
And listen into quite ness
Of the new day
Squelchs the black of night
A wakening of hunger
Only to be fed
By the most passionate
Of love
The first glow of the
Footlights.
Shines on her as she appears.
Ever so softly.
The maiden of the velvet night.
Her head turns towards me
Casting a deep looking stair
Feeding the hunger
That controls my every thought.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Saint Bens
In flames, fire and sometimes cold
tormented restless souls
Demons most with exesive hair
oddly some have drooling
And yellow fangs.
The plague they bring
Darkens light within your goodness frame
They have done this for ever
Why all is known
Haunting mist And
Drooling spit
Oh soils stand where you stand
Severed bridge from here to there
scary voices shattering peace.
Loathsome hate
Release Hells gate
poem by Howard Johnson
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Love
Love is fleeing
Requires daily work to grasp its fashion
Like black and white rainbows
Impassioned rejection
Uncontrolable intimate addiction
Could saftely individualize
Walls built
Bricks of egotism
Neat impassive layered rows
Mortar made with efficent channeled efficaious pain
Impersonation of a contending composure
Courious,
Aluring Infatuation
Unoticed
Endorsing accumulative decietful foundation cracks.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Clear
It rained stars last night
Over a black umbrella
They rolled across darkness
Scatter like silver marbles
Bumping quietly against the blue moon
Mysterious coinciding their downward travel
In random circles
Solitary and circumstantial fervor
Touching my horizon
Then breaking apart.
With pittance of a mixture
Pixy dust and diamond sparkle
The lapse of consciousness creates a fugitive
Escaping the compunction of life....
poem by Howard Johnson
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A Stone Sits A Stone
Long oft towards
Where the sun light comes
Under the cover by an old cedar tree
Rest a stone upon a stone
There in a side of a hill
In wavering woods
Waters flow to the valley floor
How you sit
And tended your thoughts
Still, and motionless
Quiet enough to blend with the stone
Listen to the green woods
Beneath the freshing winds
Grows strong sorrow sleeps
Swarms of living life
And passion grows hungry
To the task of lovers lips
poem by Howard Johnson
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Summer time Peaches
I want to go
To the place where lovers go
Where butterflys rest easy
On sun ripened Peaches
Beyond extended hand reaches
As we stretched
You touched me
And held me for a moment
Which time stood still
Confine myself, immersed inside your love
I want to be there..
To rehearse your name
I want to be there
To nurse your pain
And to be there
To take you places
Where lovers go
[...] Read more
poem by Howard Johnson
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Greens of moore
Where in glooms abide
Dungons fortunes found in deadly light
The moores of black and lean
In tracts of scattered pain
Space between star lite schemes
Rain storm clouds
Too many Waters shead
From strange growning mold
A 'Rose' bud head.
It speaks loudly then it said
'From mortal thoughts'
A ray lite cloud drifted oft
Gleemed in glory greens
The dark dawn left the light then comes
Chuckled then, the morning smiled
Strips away those fears day!
poem by Howard Johnson
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He Has risen
In Spring
A warmth came
I cannot explain
A day so special that
My words, don't describe
My amazement is confessed
What my brother did for me
I tremble to know long ago
The pain he suffered
In the Hand
And upon the wrist
On that cross there he hung
In his holy name
The earth did rung
His body, now cleaned
And resting
Placed behind
A sealing stone
[...] Read more
poem by Howard Johnson
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