Something.

The qualling moldwarp seeps.
Crude and distinguished.
Outcasted.
For and lived full.
Of rot in the crimson wave.
Veined
And insecure.
No high or lowering end.
No result in castled eyes.
Or mothered neutrons of the sick.
Sick.
So.
So.
Sick.
Too sick to rest.
Been gone and too many killed by thought.
By the drowning of the subliminal courage.
By the spinal departure in the sands.
And without welcoming of the azure.
Footprinted only to be pulled into red.
And entombed into onyx.
Never to receive the final wail of grief.


Garrett Johnson.

One.

Dead.
It stands.
Illustrated
For nothing.
Too nothing.
In the isle.
Of Loath.
And weeping to the ecstasy.
That shown once before.
The crystal eyed.
Slept none.
Cabin soft.
Escape.
Playing mindful.
Collage of inner chaos.
Volume languid.
Unreal.
Illusion
It thinks to an eroding tone.
And still present when it leaves.


Garrett Johnson.

Said to be said.

Grime slapped into verses.
Grabbed by infinity.
A lonely grasp.
Swollen faced security.
To self destruction.
Meadowed in suicide seating.
Think of her often.
To leave and ride eternity.



Garrett Johnson.

Evening Motion Sickness

Twas for the river that I think of you.
About that agony smile.
The denim closing stars following as we walk to "Fourth time Around".
Those grey soaked fingers.
The curls of brown blanketed.
The easy clouded stride.
That soft sight peaking back like film.
The grasp in grasp.
That defying glide from the lips.
The silent dance from the waist.
So wicked.
The further air.
The fruitful chaos.
And the watery time known before decay.



Garrett Johnson.

Museum.

Once again it crumbles in solitude.
Mourn weeping groan.
Please don't bring it here.
It only causes happiness.
Thick and shadow showering sound.
Like the sick child.
No more.
No more.


Garrett Johnson

Angular relapse.

Like a tongue on a hot pipe.
Gets blistered.
Boils in the star in the sky.
And pops.
Pus.
Picking up even the stongest bones crunching.
The whimper.
The moonlight.
The **** in the head that fries.
Pretend to even act.
Like the little voice beating between the ears.
Meaning nothing and everything.
For everyone and Nobody.
But stills crawls.
Back into an acidic center.
Home that could never be home
And flushed into. . . What be formed into silent ends.


Garrett Johnson.

To the sidewalk at Night

Cranberry to the house.
It's not right.
I feel old.
Like the rust of speech.
Like 3 degrees off and a letter from Jack.
Takes all 2 seconds to get used to it.
The nearness of you.
And the walk back home.


Garrett Johnson.

A dream I think.

Out of the car.
Up the stairs.
Inside.
Walk around.
There she is.
Talk a min.
Follow.
Get lost.
For even longer.
Been found.
Found a way
Pinkie promise.
For a song.


Garrett Johnson.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

Wellness.

None at all.







Garrett Johnson

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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. ;)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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

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

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.

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.

Goodbye.

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



Garrett Johnson

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Once again

I fell into those eyes,
Once again.




Garrett Johnson.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.