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Caleb A Johnson Jan 2021
Your evil made me hungry
and I'm coming back for more

I don't even give a ****
That you don't like the poor

You can go ahead and **** someone
If it will start this war

I've been starving for so long
I just can't take it anymore

Your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Even if I don't catch a break
At least I'll know what it was for

I don't care to have a Cadillac
As long as you don't get to have yours

I'll turn my back on everyone
If they won't quit what's made me sore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I'll do whatever you tell me to
I'll be your favorite *****

I'll show you all my anger
And be a bigoted bore

Just as long as you don't forget me
And relish in my gore

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
_

I don't need no learning of facts
From someone who knows more

There is no one who can take
From me what I've been looking for

Even if you prove me wrong
I'll believe it even more

Because your evil made me hungry
And I'm coming back for more
__

Now the boys in blue have turned
And thrown me to the floor

And you won't even look at me
You don't need me anymore

But that's ok because I broke it all
Those ******* who we tore

From their exalted places
From their more noble lore

It was your evil made me hungry
And I will always come back for more
Caleb A Johnson Jan 2021
I was just too angry to see
That what you were going through
Was the same things as me

I was just too angry to see
That what was lost wasn't just you
But also me

I was just too angry to see
That what I missed was not the trinkets
But the gone of we

I was just too angry to see
That the injury was not minor
But was deep as can be.

I was just too angry
To see
Injustice empathy sympathy love
  Jan 2021 Caleb A Johnson
Traveler
What if life had no mystery
wouldn’t
we  just be doing time?

What if life had no end
wouldn’t
meaning be hard to fine?

Let’s see
no mystery and no end
right back to Hell again!
Traveler Tim
Caleb A Johnson Dec 2020
Red white and blue
Red white and blue
How my heart wanted
To be true
But your devotion to me
Is not what mine was to you
Red white and blue
How I wish I could be true
Come on, open up your eyes.
Stop looking at the screen.
There's a whole world out there.
Don't read a story.
Write one.
Live one.
It's time to wake up.
It's time to live your life.
Caleb A Johnson Dec 2020
The clock on the wall is busted
I don't think I'll fix it
What causes the hours to fly?
Maybe our trespass to count it
The clock on the wall is slow
I don't think I'll speed it up
Why am I always so stressed?
It could be I am possessed
The clock on the wall has stopped
I don't think I'll start it
Why can't I not be still?
Perhaps that machinery is my ill
Is time an outdated concept?
women say they want a sensitive man but they mock me when i sit at the piano crying for hours holding a lighthearted paper candle and a smile tucked in between my lips

they say they want a hard working man with ***** fingernails but
they claw at me if i turn a sun-browned shoulder against them in bed

they say they would love a cultured man but they cringe when i kiss them with lips tasting of whiskey & cigar smoke or touch them with fingers gentle as soft old paper

they say they dig the cold but they huddle in blankets when i stay up all night dancing naked across the lawn listening to joni mitchell in january

they say they want their own sugar space but turn sour when i linger and wake up dreaming of becoming an astronaut

they say they're comfortable with my past imperfections but it's my fault when i have a nightmare about being strung out on the perfume of another woman

they want a man who can write a song but they struggle when i anchor a poem to their delicate ankles and fill their empty rooms with shamefully broken pencils

they love my beautiful tattoos and piercings but shake me when i spend days wrapped inside a coral shell singing a lullaby

they want the idea of a man they've read about in books but won't tolerate me when i read them the atrocities in the sunday paper under the lampshade of an oak tree

women say they'll take me as i am but get lonely when i wander for a week and come home buried in the scent of a rock and roll bar

they say they make friends easily, like me, but can't stand to come home to talking & laughing cynical & drunk in a house full of strangers

they want a quiet man who loves them like the stars but scream when i learn to fly at the mercy of the weather & can't be captured

they want to live naughty with the thick musk of a man but act bewildered when they're caught soaking wet and weak in the knees

women say they love men with a tolerance but get jealous when i'm dizzy drunk at dawn on cheap tequila and the memory of my mother

they want a man who lives inside a corridor of words but hate me when they realize artful compliments are only cages of pretty lies

they're helpless for a man with grace but hate me when i'm pitiful and clumsy in the dark after blowing out candles and closing windows in the middle of june

they say they'll only fall in love with a lover of music but audibly cough when i hush them as Coltrane makes dazzling sodium fall across my face

they all wish for a man with careful eyes
but mine are blue and empty in the end
& it gets lonely
so i will no longer carry a song for them in my heart
like a trail-weary cowboy
no lust
no memory
no guilt
no cups
no whistles
or jewels in my vulnerable shadow
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