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When you know what to do but don't know how to do it.

Paris.
Springtime
Ultimate.
Suicide.
Seating.
Pinecone.
Eyes for the best.
Hallow.
And.
Saturated.
1966.
Going to the outskirts.
Looked.
Upon the fresh.
New bodies.
All over.
And opened.
Into.
The.
Dawning.
Of her
Only.
And.
Left alone.


Garrett Johnson.
Cigarette for the troubles.
May 18 · 96
Arrive to leave.
Arrive to leave

Salem.
Asylum.
For all.
Reaching.
Frantic.
Friday.
Evening.
Someday.
Antisocial.
Nev­er.
Rush.
Flash.
Such.
Wandering.
Navigating.
Endless.
Vibrant chaos.
Crusading.
Blum.
Continuos.
Relinquish.
Embraced.
Distorti­on
Within.
Grasp
Taunting.
Disappeared.
In agony.
Collection.
Mural.
Saga.
Certain of.
Past.
Parasite
Of waves.
Confined.
Seeking.
Redemption.


Garrett Johnson & Eleesha Mayo.
Thanks for the words Eleesha.
It's walking around a lot.
May 8 · 45
But the sound.
But the sound.

Left stood red on the curb.
He sits.
Reading his epitaphs and choice.
Leeching to his lead.
Pocketed mind inside his fine teeth.
Friends free loading on the 2 cent couch.
Bass played Stuntman Randy.
So the Grooves get the gist.
Guthrie preaching Cosmourn poems.
They feel the nail black.
Lagooned in haled land.
Black eyed and far away from gentle.
Coppered Pirates Poets loving.
Battered.
Laughs the words forming.
Cause back on the streets they are once again.


Garrett Johnson.
Only and all around it went.
May 1 · 128
For you.
For you.

You take off your ghostly dress.
You sell it to the baker who's new.
You look forth, back and around me.
Even As I stand next to you.
You're in slumber on the rug in the lobby.
You're coffee lips they seem down.
But I can see your intentions.
Even with your head to the ground.
So there you stand in the corner of the room.
With blanketed sound.
Of rain and Falling neon.
As you remember to turn around.
Here you are walking to me
Placing your ether hand.
To the place.
You wish a kiss will land.


Garrett Johnson.
Saturday night rehab on the walk back through Northglen all the way...to Greenwich.
Apr 21 · 133
Only but the road.
Only but the road.

With the soda sauce.
Embrace at the space needle.
And playing Neil Young on the corner.
She gets it all.
& owes none.
High parked at a stop off in Gold Bar.
Sleep in the back.
So close.
A gypsy nightmare is just a dream.
Wake to an acoustic cry.
Subtlety in early air.
We slow dance to sounds of Donovan.
And feel the feel that felt it all.



Garrett Johnson
Down by the river.
To wake on the forest floor.
Mar 23 · 167
Wellness.
Wellness.

None at all.







Garrett Johnson
Gone.
Ode to the most of it all.

Painted
Nation in white.
Rushing to and from the veins of agony.
Rash and amounted with seas of coursed grain.
& fog streamed from the consience waves of thought.
And Affection.


Garrett Johnson.
Wallow in the pond.
Mar 19 · 229
Akward insight.
For Awkward insight.

Why are you standing there?
Well I thought I'd show you my record collection.
Oh, cool.
Do you like... um The Beach Boys?
Yeah.
Do you like... Grateful Dead.
Mm Yeah.
Do you like Dylan or Jefferson Airplane?
Yeah, sure.
.
.
******, man!
You did again.
You took too much!
You took too much.


Garrett Johnson
Happens for a reason right?
Mar 19 · 69
Time again.
Time again.

Soft and mad.
Left Fields barren remaining without a soul.
Later rehydrated with life.
Cleansed for the bossom of the soil.
Begain.
Only.
To be ended.
Intime for the hard rain to fall.



Garrett Johnson.
Taken.
Mar 17 · 37
Fragments of infinty.
Fragments of Infinity.

Dabbled in the hill dwellings.
Parades of ******.
Spoons of believe to be.
Sands of purple saturation.
                                                Gone.
Stranded frozen in Greenwich street.
                                                                 Always.
Felt lively.
From grace of lips.
Only wondered.
& pure.
With the revamped spiral of life.
Given memory to moments of intimacy.
Sanctum.
Caught in form.
Of sameness.
And oblivion.




Garrett Johnson.
I was always gone.
Drabbled permease upon tatters.

Lip bricked.
Eye stabbed.
Flower bucket force.
Trauma to the shoe.
Green paint.
Done with spat face.
                                    Ripped.
                                                  Ran for closure.
****** with.
                       Then after shook the hand.
Cato.
Capo.
3rd fret.
              Be my friend.
                                      Leave me alone.
Don't go.
Just leave.



Garrett Johnson.
Fall apart.
Mar 11 · 118
Tempted Significance.
Tempted Significance.

Zero moments did I say wait.
As for the forsaken channel decided to be draped.
In electric blue.
Only to be draped back into clouds.
Passing foothold on lonely function.
& twisted return in waves.
Lay shy in the face.
A cryptic respite.
Embraced by the wolves in the atmos.
Of all self being.
Self too clear for comfort.
& too silent for silence.



Garrett Johnson.
took to Gold Bar and back.
Mar 9 · 76
Crack in the door.
Crack in the door.

Looking like Apocalypse Now.
He tips his hat.
Reaching to his catacombs.
Why are you here.
Why did you see.
Me.
Who has the fix for you.
& Me.
Disturbingly solemn.
Wearing plaid.
Lips black.
Tar for the door.
Thought of all natural.
That is the thought that counts.
But never accounted for.
Looking in.
To see only a picture.
Of a reel that'll last until I do.



Garrett Johnson.
Like he said "like a complete unknown"
Prescription Vinyl Side Affects.

Early morning- Stared too long at myself...in the dark, Drank a glass of what could have been, Watched Fife adventures while painting silhouettes.
Later morning- Started doing mescaline serious.
Evening- Read a book subconsciously, Buried the book outback near the shed, Watched Inherent Vice 7 times in a row, the book was Inherent Vice.
Early night- Drank lots of water, with lemon, drank tea for the cool down.
Late night- Cough drop for the cough, Wrote this, And This, and especially this.




Garrrrett JOhnson. ;)
Meh. Only on the cool down
Mar 6 · 58
Nurtured Destruction.
Nurtured Destruction.

Self Loathing.
In emotion.
Corroded by dawn.
Bare.
Hopeless running.
Water until the sun.
Meets thee eyes.
Left stood under what has been.
Time.
& purpose.
All while slept for the early.
& your lover's loving rise.
For eternity.





Garrett Johnson.
only in the mind.
Mar 4 · 69
Neutrophil Canvas
Neutrophil Canvas.

Twas like the sea.
Shaking.
But still.
Traced on her face.
Whispering peace.
Slow dancing with breeze.
Adrift.
On the unconscious isle.
Swept through the tunnel of blue.
As if dreamt.
Only refined to contrast.
Remembered as lines on her hands.
& reawakened to be found.
Alone.



Garrett Johnson.
Disintegrated.
Holly beach crime scene.

In it.
Stopped speaking with words.
Using poems instead.
Like the breeze swaying through the ally to the beach.
Hitting her hair.
Identical.
Like that night in 68.
Where the air cooled on top of the roof.
Where the surfers.
Dopers.
And surf saxers.
Congregated for the haze of a shindig.
And fell into the space and time.
Of love.
Acid.
And continuous sounds of The Doors.



Garrett Johnson.
What's forgotten.
Mar 1 · 65
Rapid Infarction.
Rapid Infarction.

What was.
Became through the showering sound of.
Why.
Screamed into oblivion.
The rush.
Stabbed through the psychedelic spiral.
& vomited upon from the mahogany floor.
Crashed and wedded in embrace.
Held by wind from the creak.
The silence.
The intamacy.
Only to be welded into nothing.
But the field of reeds to keep company.



Garrett Johnson.
Return of.
Feb 28 · 70
Kerouac Drive
Kerouac Drive.

Sin what he asked for.
Said his head was broken.
Only baptized needle in his vein.
Started seeing stars lit.
Only when closed.
Saw the nebula.
Rusted with violet.
Saw his love.
Open.
Saw nothing.
In nothing.
Gone.


Garrett Johnson.
Lost in the damage.
Ode to the hand that's held.

Leaf blower suicide.
German going in & out.
The precious things.
Lay on back.
Looking up.
Doing only what is known.
Wondering what isn't.
Going side to side.
Talking.
Talking.
Talk the ride home.
We only went to Wyoming.



Garrett Johnson.
& what isn't.
Feb 26 · 91
Emaciated Dawn.
Emaciated Dawn.

Surged in the ecstasy.
Catacombs she asked.
I don't know where I'm going.
Where's going being gone without
Taken.
Towards the other side.
Broken on through with leisure leaving trails.
And with the lover asking picture.
Moving languid.
Under the shirt.



Garrett Johnson
Getting near it.
Feb 25 · 29
Elevator overdose.
Elevator Overdose.

Treble through the fuckery in the wall.
kind.
& Janised.
Low downed in the lowlands.
And perish in the sweet confines of her sweater.
Scented of vanilla and coffee.
Stabbed with marrow being ripped from the spine.
& spiral up to the keeper's song.



Garrett Johnson
Kind of afraid.
Feb 24 · 96
Maroon Dysfunction.
Maroon Dysfunction.

The wall orbs in seconds.
While I dwell n loath.
Chew through blood curdled at the scene.
Pooled in awakening lithium.
Only to match the curve of the tremolo.
False.
But defined.
through friction.
& breasted shadows.
So shown.


Garrett Johnson.
never have met.
Feb 23 · 125
Marion Gaslight.
Marion Gaslight

kicked in with malfunction hair.
Spliced.
Sociopathic residue drip to the commuter of the world.
Spliced.
How do you love your warmth.
Plunder.
All and well now.
We'll just wait it out in our arms.



Garrett jOhNsOn
Shroud to the marry movings.
Feb 21 · 37
Remembered best.
Remembered best.

Conspired in listful site.
Lay upon frozen forgoing lake.
Seize in the night.
For embrace of lips of world.
Intertwined.
Only imagined.
In the mist blue grasping through.
The pines.
Glisten of eyes.
Mirrored in soft pyro
She lay.
Wrapped.
In nothing but amethyst wools.
Playing the 6 string.
She sleeps to the tune.
In easiness of the early brake of new.


Garrett Johnson
A Worthy mess.
Moonlight on her sweater.

Alex took a 3rd.
Shot in her head.
Didn't know any better
She pins the 44 at the wall.
Skulking at the rain.
Tired of the poor of it all
The lie of the weather man.
The azure wind in her ears.
Words.
Saying that ran.
Behind the fears.
Left only foam from her mouth n her toes in the sand.



Garrett Johnson.
Only and not just.
Feb 8 · 208
Ode to the road.
Ode to the road.

See you and your rivered mind.
Sought out in cyan.
And cry for the drift in your eye.
Made for.
The groove.
The tremolo in your pace.
Rose hue to your face.
And the sea to your shirt.
The one you got in Olympia.



Garrett Johnson.
I should've died.
Jan 31 · 78
Goodbye.
Goodbye.

Fall.
Sidewalk.
Streetlamp.
Hands held.
Old leaves.
New sounds.
I fell.
In.
Those eyes.
Those eyes.
Those eyes.



Garrett Johnson
Beautiful friend.
Jan 26 · 65
So Close.
So Close.

You sewed your mouth.
When it rained in your head.
For what it's lived.
& what it's not.
You sickened yourself to stay home
for me.
Come see me.
& lay in this bed.
Your algorithmic speech.
Flaunted.
Sitting sweater.
Tears seducing the *****.
Its dance.
Its cry.
You to be the muse.
You to make the sigh.
Of love & relief.
& with visions so delicate.
& prompted.
You play the strings then slumber.
Kept warm under.
Passing the sound.
Around.
& around it went.
& still goes.




Garrett Johnson.
Fifth time around
Jan 21 · 157
I die each time.
I die each time.

Rug floor.
Her Eyes.
Cosmic.
But homemade.
Satin.
& lived in.
I heard the sound.
Whispered.
Sent for.
Invitations.
For the heads.
& Sick.
With grief from the lips.



Garrett Johnson.
Always you.
Jan 14 · 173
Ode to being gone.
Ode to being gone.

I was riding o the high.
when the voice sank.
Muddled
& confused.
Reaching from unknown waters.
Beds placed in orders.
& disorders.
Wrapped upon a red vessel.
A girl.
Placed out of Her known waters.
& subtly coughed upon dining room tables.
She the contender.
She the rose no marry.
She the lovely wearing flannels in bed.
& she to touch the flower within your soul.



Garrett Johnson.
Too rare to die
Never bein who I wanna.

See thru.
neck kiss.
car hood.
lost a thing.
Don't belong.
don't believe.
all wrong.
have to leave.
don't.
.
Stay.



Garrett Johnson.
Making me melt.
I'll come following you.

The scene obscured by High flyers.
the trains.
the sculking.
the home recordings.
the film.
So roomy.
I can taste the perfume.
leaving in shadow.
left rough.
& in silk.
Acting like we never met.
I still 5 to go.
paid for exclusively.
In drachmae.
& Wheat.
But dance &.
Groove.
So weary.
Like the untested reach.
Of time.
& The never resting beach.




Garrett Johnson.
Just like Bob Dylan's green tambourine thumb blues dream
Paper rats in the walls.

& Like the life previous.
I sense them once more.
Clawing at the inside of my brain.
Turning.
Everything.
But the floor.
They wine in cancerous heat upon my door.
& Leave my wall into a galaxy of a corpse.



Garrett Johnson.
On fire in the front row.
And her kiss had to throw me.
Dec 2019 · 129
For Sara.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
For Sara.

You've lost all you've caught.
& what you've got is not your senses.
Not your lights.
Not your couch.
Not your fences.
Written on your face.
Says all is nothing.
& tasteless.
What's it to grace.
& hope.
When your atoms greet the pavement.
From a thousand feet up.




Garrett Johnson.
Perhaps it's the color of the universe.
Dec 2019 · 88
Once again.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
Once again

I fell into those eyes,
Once again.




Garrett Johnson.
As it rains in azure
Dec 2019 · 51
Still around somehow.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
Still around somehow.

You're down when they walk by.
Skulking like crimson.
On your rug.
Treacherous.
So vulnerable.
What a position.
Crying for death.
Seeing what could be seen.
The scene so meloncholy.
But we laughed.
Spitting Pneumonia in noire.
Leaving all things heavy.
N blowin in the wind.


Garrett Johnson.
Guess I'm doing fine.
Dec 2019 · 37
Laurel Canyon blues
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
Laurel Canyon blues.

Soft spoken.
As I listen to the chorus In her eyes.
She plays in the prison of Rhythm & rhyme.
& I who has lost the night to time.
Watching the form of smile in a light.
Matte.
Sat reading the arrangements.
Presented on the face.
As she sang Tell me why.
A Young song for a young soul.



Garrett Johnson.
Never my love!!
Dec 2019 · 30
When your gravity fails.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
When your gravity fails.

Lost on the texture gun.
The hopper shot Alex again.
Her hair die was acidic.
An I thought I was lost in the rug tree.
My shoes have no use anymore.
Cause I'm gonna get me a new Garrett Johnson and I'm gonna use him.
                                     See you next xmas
                                     Cliff Booth.




Garrett Johnson
Punched by a letter.
Dec 2019 · 159
Ode to Penelope.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
Ode to Penelope.

Silence.
Sweet in symphony.
For she.
The carrier of infinity.
Bound in saddened halls.
& Sheltered in my arms for intimacy.



Garrett Johnson.
These eyes that you cannot see.
Garrett Johnson Dec 2019
Won't be back till later on.

I'm gone for the long road.
To nowhere.
That's somewhere.
With her that has something.
& her that has nothing at all.


Garrett Johnson
Everybody know this is somewhere
Nov 2019 · 96
Funeral pyre canopy.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Funeral pyre canopy.

Green be thee eyes looking inward.
As the soft speaks.
I look.
I stare.
Touching not.
But cool air.
I wander.
Mindlessly in fields.
I see the eyes that ponder.
Upon me that feel.
& search for no longer nothing.
For it is now real.




Garrett Johnson.
Green is the colour of her kind
Nov 2019 · 406
Drowning like Tuesday.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Drowning like Tuesday.

Stained cold.
Pained & blue.
& blew away in the morn.
The dawn striking Like I a seven day trip to the quiet mountains.
The quiet flowers.
The quiet fountain.
The silver trees.
& The shadow satins.
Melted in a field.
And still.
Kept silent.



Garrett Johnson.
How does it feel.
Nov 2019 · 250
Saw myself as you knew me.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Saw myself as you knew me.

Where.
Do you fit in here.
What.
Do you know about sinking here.
Why.
Did you think I'd think you'd miss me here.
Here at the Pinnacle of here.
& The adolescents of never.



Garrett Johnson.
Seems so far away.
Nov 2019 · 62
Opposite loft blues.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Opposite loft blues.

I've seen the Maroon.
Moon in your eyes.
When you smiled as you cried.
From the shadow of your boots.
Dying in your labyrinth of mind.
Standing.
Gasping from time wasted.
Slapped granite blankets.
As your rust eyes close
& Your face turns invisible.
Starting with your nose.
Screaming the song.
You would oppose
But then think
Just maybe you were supposed to die.
& Then you did.
You got rid of your pains.
Starring aimlessly.
Through those maroon eyes.



Garrett Johnson.
I'll keep it with mine.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
I don't want to go no where no more.

Above us only sky.
The dirt of the no where
The blinders of the universe.
Take your rug.
Put it across the world.
My fingers are getting very cold.
And kind of tired.



Garrett Johnson.
Picturing myself in that boat on that river.
Nov 2019 · 42
Dusty Cabinet.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Dusty Cabinet.

All twisted felt the seasons closing in around.
Warped for the downtown incents.
Just to self destruct at the side of a pine river.
A blue face now a-days.
& a new chest full of fog.
Getting up in a field when you have nothing to own.
Nothing to know.
& No one to call home.
With the only thought of what to do.
Is smile.



Garrett Johnson.
Tarantula pages in the afternoon.
Nov 2019 · 82
Searching.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Searching.

Standing on that edge.
You feel so lonely.
Reaching out in that abyss
So roomy
Distracting with pleasure that told me all your news
Good & bad.
Stuck in an Romeo prison.
Now feeling glad that you lived.
Just to pain yourself.
With needles gauntly feeding you.


Garrett Johnson.
Turn, turn to the rain & the wind
Nov 2019 · 62
Fireplace eyes.
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Fireplace eyes.

Flower girl in open café.
With exploding yellow dress & cute short hair.
Sees the look on my face.
Smiles & Says nothing.
Standing curious fixing a scratch on the wrist.
I Stand outside trying to make sense.
Filling classical glasses with fog.
Distant but sure to say something.
Spotting an invitation that'll be sure to be groovy.




Garrett Johnson.
Slow in a Locust night.
Nov 2019 · 63
Ok
Garrett Johnson Nov 2019
Ok
Ok.

I left it there.
N I left it here.
**** Lighthouse Bukowski back at work
I left it on the porch.
Like a hoover vacuum.
****** up into a locker at the metro.
But who gives a ****.
Dylan Thomas never checked in on me.
Why would he do it now.
Lost that ******* hoov.
Like a rustling in a box made out of neon foam.
Lived in that tree for years.




Garrett Johnson.
personal like a planters peanut jar.
Like I can't write poems about personal events that just so happen to be on my bday.   Oh yeah, that's right
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