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32.8k · Sep 2014
kitty kat naughty
mark john junor Sep 2014
a sunshine fighter by nature
his shallow grave face
with its half buried flickers of fury
gives way to the lesser demon's like smiles
while he suffers the hopeless romance
of a cute girl who wants to lick
his carved biceps like a neo-glitter kitty kat
naughty naughty
he cringes all over with the
desperate grins that break out all over him
naughty naughty indeed
17.6k · Mar 2015
madness sunshine
mark john junor Mar 2015
flawed to near insanity
but long as you could hold down a job then its alright
isn't that a wise policy she asked
i'm not so sure
watching the clowns strut their stuff
in the midnight sun
they are reckless to be certain but self aware to a fault
just makes it all the more bizarre
watch em go at it with each other over the simplest thing
its no way to live
you can vouch for the living as long as you haven't died
and this madness is just shy of being in a pine box
so darling lets get outa this crazy place
get away from the thinking
that you gotta be like everybody else
get away from the plastic hippie rat-race
roll down the easy highway
find us some sweet sunshine to breath in
find us a better life to be
15.6k · Sep 2014
the south florida rainforest
mark john junor Sep 2014
her happier eyes
brilliant even in the sun
but she has a rough feel to her soul
she walks along the hot sidewalk with a dozen bags in arm
looks like it would tire an army of horses
but she says shes fine
"don't bug me with that 'good guy ****'
know your good, just not right now...
cause id rather be mad"

three thirty in the pool of a streetlight
we both swim in reasons
we both have battleships on fire
and its really only the hot humid air that keeps the blow by blow going

by dawn we are curled up in a park
miles from home
making love cause there aint much left to say
shes still mad
but shes ready to cry
i tell her i'm wrong
but we both know that don't matter
we both are just confused by the her that aint here
we are just confused by what should be

her happier eyes brilliant like twin starlight trains
keep speeding over me
and i keep kissing her hand
cause it s the nice guy thing to do
two hopeless romantics lost in the south florida rainforest
15.2k · Nov 2014
loves intimate kiss
mark john junor Nov 2014
they say shes waiting for me
beautifully
they say that shes there
with loves tender embrace
with loves intimate kiss
softly waiting for the mad rush of my day to end
waiting for me to come home to her arms
but for now i'm just a tinker
down by the ***** river
lost in the back roads and shadows
dragging behind a fat sack of yesterdays
building better dreams for all the pretty people
filled with longings and desires
but ill make it home to her someday
where she lay in the peaceful moonlight
where she waits for me beautifully
filled with such tender desire
with loves intimate kiss
ill be there in her arms
home at long last
never to leave again
she is all iv dreamt of
she is waiting....
11.8k · Jul 2014
country girl
mark john junor Jul 2014
like a natural country girl
took me by the hand
lead me places only country girl could
rode me like a bronco
left me with a shine in my soul
and a big ole smile on my face
like a natural country girl should
waited a lifetime for a girl like her
hay in her hair
love for horses in her heart
nothin better than a natural country girl
and the smiles we give eachother have allways been there
shes everything iv ever wanted
a natural country girl
11.4k · Jul 2014
emo-warrior princess
mark john junor Jul 2014
she has dangerous thoughts
in her hello kitty slippers
she shines when thouse around her can only sparkle
there are dark angels in her stuffed bear collection
shes a gothic stoner emo-warrior princess
she wants to be heard
and its dreamy things shes gonna say
shes sketched in beautiful ways in my heart
10.0k · Aug 2014
a september bride
mark john junor Aug 2014
a september bride her hollow sounds
fearfully echo on the leaf strewn trail
with intonations of a blushing bride to be
she makes a graceful vision
obscured only by her hamfisted collection
of undesirable father figures
who stand round the groom and brow beat
him with dire dreams
but his eyes are for her alone and
the tigers of her sensual rainforest
"lions, tigers and bears...oh my!" she whispers
into his eager ear with a sardonic grin

her hollow sounds both haunting and beautiful
they will stay with me as a soulsong
long after history has devoured her
namesake and words
a quick poet of the three line shoot from the hip haiku
pink glossy eyes all damp with remembered tears
she is the quintessential september bride
the long summer nights swayed her
the longer cold winter may undo her
but it is a girlhood dream that
she knits with papier-mâché knights and
bubblegum queens
she waits for me there
to officiate the proceedings
with a bottle of red wine and single red rose
wrapped in the tender notions of
loves sweetest kiss
9.2k · Mar 2014
salt sailors song
mark john junor Mar 2014
gulls and terns spin in the air
as waves lullaby the sleepy dreamers
with grand tales and rich promise of paradise to be
found just over the horizons edge
sailors eye to the swift wind
sure hand to tackle and line
hearty men of salted liquid soil
grown to giants in the breakwaters thunder

but gentle that hands heart
when the tolling bell calls out the names of the lost
and the sea has swept away all but her witnessed tale
to leave the widows and forlorn child to
carve name to wall and mourn

past midnight now
a dead calm
and cloudless sky reigns
with a majesty of brilliant starlight
upon this sea reflecting the heavens slow march
i lay like a supplicant muted by the spectacle
to souls hunger this moment and place
shows a deeper meaning to thouse souls with eyes to see

a dead calm
and cloudless sky reigns
with a majesty of brilliant starlight
the old salt sailor breaks into deep song
that sooths and lends hardy meal to the heart
hold fast young lad hold fast

the morning rushing forward brings
the breaking wave and unfolds sail with quick wind
and the sailors eye rejoices with
merry songs to measure the hour
and jauntily bring our fair seabird
back to her warm home
sea and sand in the salt sailors blood
and a kind heart guides the way
8.8k · Nov 2013
hometown summer
mark john junor Nov 2013
daylight had just slipped away
and the roadsters of the night had come out to play
on the yonkers line
the night held me in its hand
safe and warm
cause it was hometown summer
cause i was young and strong
she sat there next to me with her grey eyes full
of the dreams a young woman has
full of the romance of hometown summer
we spent the night there in the grass
by the old oak tree looking down on the streamin lights
looking down on the distant vast world
years before the cost of our lives became apparent
years before the bill came due
hometown summer
and its there still in my heart
comes back to when my day is too busy
and im running down the line
she is there next to me
all my friends too
on the hill looking down on the distant world
safe in our world
safe in eachother
hometown summer
mark john junor Sep 2014
her rigorous objections
are herded slowly down the sheep trail
by studious pencil thin men with stylish mustache's
who have deep pocket pickers for friends
they gather round the weak willed and the willing alike
looking for cheap thrills and spare change
everybody needs a new road
when the old one seems to never end

but she with eyes cast down
mumbles her unappeased desires
as she shuffles a little closer to the truth as she sees it
she has it all written out in secret languages
she has books filled with life's coded thoughts as she see's them
barn burners and dare devils grace the cover of her latest creation
self titled to her own romantic name
she is stylized in her own way
so she adores the pencil thin men
with their dashing devil may care good looks

i wrote her a letter yesterday
full of stories from the great highway
full of chipper go getters and the glum go gotten
she is a forever stone on a necklace
she is a moonstone on a bracelet
she is graceful when it counts and
thats more than enough for me

the pencil thin moustache men
come to conquer the all night diners
in the small shoreline towns
but slink away in dawns first light
with stolen smiles and borrowed kisses
that they promise profusely to return tomorrow
but never do
such is the romantic night by her side
such is the wonder-wheel days of our
journey on the great highway
7.8k · Jul 2014
devilishly shy
mark john junor Jul 2014
in her devilishly shy
is a wild
lips of crimson creams
eyes deep waters blue

candlelight breathes promise into her warmth
the way she holds me tells me shes mine
but moonlight dances with her beauty
without her night would seem so vain

evenings magic at her fingertips
and with its she paints such pretty pictures
dancefloor with a sea of stars
a beach with the gentle sea
meadows with summer sun
such pretty things
are just a happiness that she finds in rainstorms
are just a beauty of living that she finds in my arms
safe and warm
in her devilishly shy
she is a wild

lips of crimson creams just for me
skin willin' and soft neath my hand
and the way she holds me tells me she is mine
in her devilishly shy
i see the naughty girl smiling
and i want to take her right there
in a wild way
mark john junor Mar 2013
carving a few simple words into her memory
a whisper of hair drifts over her face
eyes shut she waits for the cold crisp dawn
the candle distracts
and weaves it own tale
soft with smoke and mystery

night disburses
and the redhead across the hall comes tapping
naked and sweating
looking to cop a fresh spike
my girl makes her wait in the hall
"rude" she whispers over and over

our days here are fleeting
soon to escape this motel
and its rodent festival
to the great sunshine
never snows

quiet destitution creeps in with breakfast
and lay in the corner with a soft sigh
down in my mind i want to sleep
but its nearly time to wait
for the mexicans at quality hill
with two $20's in my claw

I am not yet ready to write the words
that would seal our fate and close this painfull day
that poem is within me
it drives me out into the bright sunlight
and the redhead follows trying to make nice
and i know its dope game logic that drives her
i know i could get my girl to bed her
a ******* would be tasty

umm that thought keeps me warm
while waiting on the mexicans
7.3k · Sep 2014
moonlight walking
mark john junor Sep 2014
lets stay here a little longer
lets laugh and sing some more
because i want this moment to last
want this you and i
to go on all night
lets dance a little longer
lets romance a little longer
you look so wonderful in that dress
feel so wonderful holding your hand
its these simple joys
that romances the heart to believing
that sways the nightbreeze song to favor beautiful thoughts
want to walk alone with you and talk soft
lets dance a little longer
lets romance a little longer
want to laugh with you
see that light in your eyes
just let me hold you a moment longer
lets not let the night slip away
i see dawn comin
but just want one more moment
with your smile
with your hand in mine
lets dance a little longer
lets romance a little longer
lets kiss a little more
6.8k · Sep 2014
superman's wife
mark john junor Sep 2014
greyhound station
quarter to three am
in the rain
she is sitting on the bags
playing a vampire movie on the kindle
the screen lights her up
as she leans in close for the big wedding scene
run my hand along her dreadlocks
stopping to eye a new bead
thats her...a new little treasure for my heart each day

she leans on my shoulder as we
sit in the very back of the bus
bare to the warm night air
while dave matthew's sings to us
a little ditty from his long ago
has such a style don't he
she whispers a kiss onto my cheek
slips into dreamin

miles run past breathlessly
just an ebb and flow of u-gas and jiffy ****
just a parade of kids playing by an endless river
right outside this dim window
shes sleepin softly
i'm so awake to how i feel
to how much she means to me

where ya going mister
where ya headed
i point ..."thata way to the bright future"
so full of promise
so full of joys
with her at my side i can do anything
with her i am superman
6.4k · Jul 2014
hippy (hypocrite)
mark john junor Jul 2014
faintly sinister smiles
twitch their way across her acrobat face
and as her rolling and tumbling expressions
make their way through all manner of devious delight
your hearts hungry eye fixes on her
come hither and lets make whoopee nasty girl dress
her favors are optional
and she will tease but never share
the ever present dangling carrot
like a perfume
fills the air with delights but its just air
shes a happiness monger
so its best if you don't displease
its always a bitter mote neath the plastic vibe
might as well be a rocky mountain monument
little miss twisted in a little patchwork dress
mark john junor Sep 2013
its unmistakable
not just another caravan of faces
not just another passing year
under a strange sky
iv reached the edge of the world
nothing but open sea to my back
as far as the mind can see
and i'm riding a west wind on a quickness breeze
on a middle of the night skiff
to the the small island
where she waits for me
where she sleeps tonight
the bold song gone soft an slow
the guarded smile relaxed into a champion of joy
and conquers all her sadness
with a single tilt at the windmills
like a knight in shining armor

nothing but deep sea
nothing but night salt and sea

and as i draw near
she sings from her soul to mine
come to me lover
laugh
yes cry out loud with all your joys
laugh pure and easy
i'm the mood for you boy
i'm in the mood for your hand in mine
dance in my heart
its a warm night in the tropics
and we got the world to ourselfs
so may i have this dance
spin
dip

ballroom of sand
laugh with me
run with me
we are free
all our lives people have tried to put us away
keep us down
now look at
dancing in the stars
look at us free and easy
dance with me baby
make love with me honey
on this ballroom of sand
laugh pure and true
with simple joy
here by salt and sea
be young with me

tonight on this ballroom of sand
come home to me
warm me with your touch
comfort me with your eyes
iv waited so long come home to me

nothing but open sea at my back
and i feel so alive
i feel so free
and my lover is near iv never been so alive
running a western quickness breeze
on a skiff heading home
to her
jezebel
"riding a west wind on a quickness breeze" LOL not to be mistaken for a nautical term LOL
5.8k · Mar 2014
in her dreadlocks
mark john junor Mar 2014
her wrist bears a set of golden bracelets
with bells and woven beads
light blue with a tangle of red
it goes with her dreadlocks
and the trinkets woven into her hair
beads and baubles
there is amongst other treasures
on the edge of one of her dreads
a tiny box
within a small face
made of pewter
old as lord nelsons prize at the nile
old as the length of a pewter mans dream
i am the pewter man and
the absence of her perfume on the air
is the absence of my soul
and my heart labors
how will i push the pen forward
can i even breath without her near
5.7k · Oct 2013
powder donuts
mark john junor Oct 2013
roll a cigarette
and check one more time that we got enough
change to get on the bus
share an orange drink
and thouse powder donuts
it began raining five minuets ago
but we didn't even notice
your hands buried inside my jacket
snuggled up to my neck
i'm looking over your head at the road
we come down
pulling a suitcase and chasing fallen leaves
and here it comes just as you fire that cigarette
im tellin ya its magic, light one and the bus will come
we bundle our butts into the very back seat
of your standard smelly old city bus
and you kiss the tip of my nose
i tickle you
they come and go
mister and misses public and all their friends
but your all i see baby
we get home and first thing you do
is go fix your makeup
LOL baby LOL
i think the cat might be the only other soul awake
within a thousand miles
and you got to look good for the cat
kiss the tip of my nose and ill tickle ya
still got a powder donut left
lets frame this puppy and call it my masterpiece
im gonna try baby
we are gonna be ok
i need hope
i need a future
lets make candles
lets make baby bottles
lets make dust bunnies
5.4k · Aug 2014
solider, sailor, tinker....
mark john junor Aug 2014
whom do you trust
solider, sailor, tinker, tailor....
what eyes see the meaning of the blind
what tongues listen...which lies
in the picturesque morning
beauty spins its deceptions with golden hued sunlight
weaves its hand puppet theatricals made of
fleeting wisps of smiles
kissing gestures weakly delivered
    solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor...
    they gather round the dead man
    some come to mourn the lost
    some come to rifle through his pockets
    some come to silently wait for their own fate
he sits in his worn chair
in a pool of lamplight
with a small hammer in hand
his spectacles on bridge of his nose
tapping tapping ever so gently the thin metal mask
tinker...tailor...sailor...solider
the uniform of his mind shifts according to his lie
his tool is always the deceptions and misdirections
a sly smile...firm handshake...a signature style
'to whom do you trust' is a phrase that troubles him
her perfume lingers in the air
years have buried the cold war
but not its warriors
not their handiwork
     they dress the dead man for his burial
     with his decorations and platitudes
     with his shiny sword and neat uniform
     with honors they lay him
     with truths his secret they bury him
     why did he do thus....to whom did he answer
     to the tomb with his truths and lies
     to the tomb
he gathers the long coat
and the umbrella
walks out in london's chill spring night
to a bridge
and throws a small box into the river
long years after the cold war died
these men of shadows still play
these keepers of the gate still watch for hannibal and his horde
solider,  sailor,  tinker,  tailor
whom do you trust
(reference to John Le Carre's novel)
5.3k · Sep 2014
serenity sails
mark john junor Sep 2014
i was far from bright light bustle
far from humanity pressin in on me
florida's paradise night neath the summer moon
came to dreamin on a pretty girl from my long ago
came to dreamin on true beauty's name serenity

that long ago far far away
i was busted flat end of my rope
didn't see how i could go on
had fallen to the darkness consuming my sight
when she gave me the courage to breath again
with her kindest of words she saved me
carried me forward to hearts truth
she saved me

never could stand to see any hurt in her sweet eyes
never wanted to see her cry
call it love...call it knowin true beauty's name
and the wild winds pick up a serenity dream
carry me forward to knowin hearts truth
that such special woman she is to me
argue no more the light and dark
she gave me the courage to see
she gave my life back to me
no matter the miles
no matter the years
i will always know true beauty's name
serenity
4.9k · Sep 2013
the flu
mark john junor Sep 2013
got the flu..like flu-man-chu...its bad voodo...this flu...its like flu-boo-hoo...this bad flu....my head is flu-yahoo...

oh man its so im ryming...its ryming flu...im not gonna give it to you....this flu-man-choo...blue-moon-woman-choo...

LOL send help quick or

the flu-man-chu will overtake u
horrid-thing-i-do...this flu-man-choo...blame-it-all-on-you...flu-woman-choo...chase-you-round-the-apartment-choo...im-gonna-tickle-you...flu-woman-choo
4.6k · Nov 2013
doves drowning
mark john junor Nov 2013
doves drowning
in the storms wicked air
watch with empathy as they struggle in the
thrashing tides of the rainswept sky
watch as the fall from grace
in the warm tears of rain

bernie was waiting on
doomsdays last train
he kept his lunch in a sack
along with the face he gonna wear
when he comes up fore the good lord
but what worried him was if the other fella
had his ticket
he would toss his coin on
the hand he was dealt
a good man misunderstood
a simple man living a complex life

contortionist of the fable
she wrote her own storied life
on the back of a matchbook cover
after all its the flame of her heart
that set ablaze many a mans inner pervert
she is waiting on that last train too
with a devilish certainty of her destination
but she aint too worried
she knows hell is just like miami in july

doves nestled in the hands of time
make a soft sound that stirs the heart
sounds like a love affair
sounds like free flight on a summer breeze
feels like home
4.5k · Jan 2014
old man song
mark john junor Jan 2014
but it was only the old man
sitting there on the dock
his weathered smile and dancing eyes
when he spoke it was a rough sound
like cadence of seafarers raising sail
in the long rays of summer eve setting sun
off the ancient shores celebrated in song
he spun me a tale of uncharted lands
and beautiful maidens in tropical forests
wild nights in some forgotten port
*** and the dancehall glow in memory
they are the stories shared on the long voyage
they are the smile in this old mans memories
the scent of salt and the rhythm of
the waves breaking on the shore
surround as he weaves his story
with the years flowin like the waves neath the prow
tacking east to a rising sun
it seems like a living breathing dream
as alive as the sea herself
as alive as the sparkling beauty in the memories
of an old man
weaving his tale
by the seaside
4.5k · Oct 2013
selfie goddess
mark john junor Oct 2013
the wine has worn off
but my heart and head
keep ticking away the hours
like some sad and absurd energizer bunny
trapped in an eternal loop
could have
should have
would have
even as a young goddess
posts a few selfies
showing her enrapturing smile
and delicious form
but she is far away
and has a boyfriend no doubt
this motel room is too quiet
i can hear myself think
and i don't want to think anymore tonight
i just want
that energizer bunny to fall off a cliff someplace
just want to go to sleep
not think theres something else i could do
to fix this
to fix me
fix her
them
it
something
somewhere someday
4.5k · Jul 2014
consequences handiwork
mark john junor Jul 2014
consequence has no face
but he has a voice
speaks so loudly in the lives of the unwary
i can hear him now talking like misery in the
background of her eyes
her loves are empty
her love will only last till the sun has ground down
the lion of your beautiful moments
look at his once proud mane matted with
the dusts of your life of compromise
its consequences handiwork illustrated in sorrowful colors
a lover of the feelin fleeting and vain
a stealer of the better things
a child of her consequences
bitter is her joys
in her sour smiles
4.5k · Feb 2014
paper airplanes
mark john junor Feb 2014
paper air planes made out
of tiny pieces of a torn up heart
they are red
but they have these streaks of black in them
it is a terrible blackness like rotting
thats unhappiness
it is poison
paper airplanes
tiny paper airplanes
he folds them quick and quiet at the stone wall
end of the driveway
at the bus stop where little old ladies dither away
long summer afternoons
tiny paper airplanes dogfight in the air
watch one go down in flames
made of the ripped up pieces of a broken heart
they are red
like fire trucks for the burning desire for her soft flesh
like alarm bells to warn off the unwary
they are red
tiny paper airplanes
one slips free
sees a cloud high up there where no paper airplane has dared
so far up in the wide open sky
none have ever even dreamed such a thing
he slips free and climbs
faster and higher
he climbs
free
4.1k · May 2013
bus
mark john junor May 2013
bus
i got an extra bus ticket
for the redhead
she may come with us
she and my girl sleep toghter all the time
i dont know
menages a trois
work somtimes
but not allways
hey would anybody like to try a collabrative poem....we each take turns writing a line or two and see where it goes.
edit: after i hit him over the head with a frying pan for posting my age, ill forgive him :-)
mark john junor Mar 2014
winters day getting a tan in my yard
i can feel the ocean of the spring breeze
taste its intoxicating salt and sand on the air
feel its breathtaking beauty as the sea washes up on me
only a few hundred feet through that tangle of palms and
tangles of quick brush
lay wide open lush sands
and forever summers soft light
and the beautiful breaking waves

in staunch hand needed but the
deeply tanned smile on the old mans face
as he holds out a greeting and offer to run out to your skiff
but you'd rather swim
at last the days full face comes to bear

a hippie family roasts hot dogs in a pit fire
and you share some white wine
music plays from a transistor radio
that has seen better days
but this is the land of forever summer
and nothing can taint the smile you share
with your lover
nothing can touch the soul deep
expression of joys
4.0k · Sep 2014
my wife
mark john junor Sep 2014
sitting on the floor barefoot in a baby blue dress
perfections dreamscape hewn in lace
romance flower of such gentle strength
and such sweet grace
my life was a blank page
waiting to be written
waiting for my wanderers heart to be smitten
for this wild child dreadlock princess
for this gentle soul to sing her heartsong for me
tremble no more for all darkness is gone
with eachother we are stronger than moonlight
with eachother our hearts beat as one
my life to you and for you my sweet
be my wife
be my life
all of you are invited to the wedding...itll be a classic hippie wedding barefoot on the beach at dawn with a rock band playing grateful dead songs :-)
mark john junor Mar 2014
heavy traffic
so we stash ourselves in the publix parking lot
and watch the flashes of the departing thunderstorm
she lays out on the buicks hood in a bikini top
a bead of sweat kisses her bellybutton
her thick dreadlocks spread like ropes
i pick one up and stick it in her ear
shes not happy with that

afternoon is all sunshine and watered down sodas
isles of plastic goodies and elevator musics
the old woman pushing her empty cart while dragging a bag
she goes to get her nails done
i push pebbles into parking lot puddles
and watch the sky drift in the reflection

she is half my age
she sticks her tongue in my ear
i dont mind
there are palm trees and lizzards everywhere
and pebbles in puddles
im a pebble and shes my puddle
shes all wet
im hard

we laugh in the forever summer sunshine
we dance in the parking lot puddles
of the fiveashes publix lot
and daydream the stars above
this is no ordinary love
this is passion's fire in the hearts eyes
shes my jezebel
im her poet
(alternate title "heavy traffic)
4.0k · Sep 2013
tangle of dreadlocks
mark john junor Sep 2013
the long day
has given itself into evening
she and i lay in eachother's arms
beneath the traces of stars
watching the lights  of passing ships in the sea
listen to the waves rock our skiff
taste the salt air in our every sense
and slowly the rest of the worlds  fades from view
to just us
as our soft talking drifts through the hours
she caresses my arm and laughs
i breath her hair and all the scents  of her womanhood
and  i feel like i could break with all the love i feel inside of me for her
like a window to all the hopes and dreams i ever had
telescopes into one moment

any moment she and her hippie girlfriends are gonna
roll in with sandwich's and green tea
for the hungry masses
and smiling they will pass the time talking
and laughin with young voices
and my neighbor catches them in watercolor
a bright flowing device and masterpiece
his old fingers dart over the canvas
and you can feel the sunlight in his images
you can hear the sweet laughter

we wander long the back street
with the open air market
they are callin out in happy voices
in the strong trade winds
and don't cha know that its so easy to forget all your troubles
and leave the whole world behind
here in the ocean breeze
here under a tropical moon
they all end up sleeping in a pile on the bed
i slept there too
one hippie chick is living on a carnival ride with lifetime
supply of cotton candy
a couple of hippie chicks
is nothing short of
well....everything you could have ever wanted
rolled up on your bed a tangle of dreadlocks arms and legs
3.9k · Oct 2014
heavens lawn chairs
mark john junor Oct 2014
grey and worn
the lawn chair has dead leaves stuck to it
its one bent arm an expression of pained indifference
mud clings to its feet
and a single vine like a thin snake
wraps its way across its frame seeking the sun
i pull at it to set the chair right
to seat myself
and **** at the breeze from the open field
marvel that a cow stands not five feet away
silently watching my every move with a wary eye
lunching on the grass and ****
but the chair now uprooted from its long held position
seems more than ever a proclamation
of mans intent to be seated here on heavens lawn
clear illustration of the intent that you are supposed to
take this bent greasy seat
sit at your leasuire
in the bountiful sunshine
it is one of a dozen in the field
in this beautiful slice of heaven

the lawn chairs
litter the field like broken teeth
set in a line that wanders across the wilderness growth
each having suffered from years standing in the open field
two almost completely consumed by bushes
one had been tossed into the tree
where time had swallowed it into the bark
this broken and brutalized fence of chairs
these lawn chairs of heaven's field
sit in this beautiful place some would say eyesore
i say artwork of life's randomness...
what party of fools once sat here
dressed no doubt for the occasion
perhaps celebrating
perhaps mourning
then got up from these plastic seats
and left them behind as testament
to that forgotten day...
so i sit in heavens lawn chair
a mute salutation to my unknown compatriots
who painted this pastoral scene
of plastic in a field
3.8k · Sep 2014
make my heart sparkle
mark john junor Sep 2014
soft now
please step careful round my heart
soft now with all these shouts of joy....
know how easy to get carried away
but lets not get too far ahead
lets just see where firefly's land
lets see where the day takes us
please step careful round my heart
soft now with all these shouts of joy....
cause i really love the way your
open hearted eyes look at me
really love the way your lips feel on mine
so step careful round my heart
soft now with all these shouts of joy.....
lets see how we dance together under the moon
lets see how you romance with picnic basket summer day
lets see how we kiss in the rain
step soft till i know for sure
that you'll make my heart sparkle
3.7k · Nov 2013
pastel thinking
mark john junor Nov 2013
pastel monotone thoughts paint
an image of me in her mind
complete with shrinkwrap
and a bright smiley face sticker
her eager hand sweats the dealt moment
she awaits with impatience for
her daily christmas time package
her daily reprise of her happy moment
she remembers it with fondness
her pastel colours spread slowly
like an intellectual STD
a malfunction of the common man
she is a true modern miscreant
she wants a pretty girl lover
that comes complete with emo look a like
laptop gamer girl
attached the hip down to matchin **** selfies
a hundred smooth moves and cheat codes
she wants the complete package at the discount rate
shes a card carrying member of
some fan girl fandango
she calls me captain saveahoe
street nasty superhero with kung-fu grip
trailing through the dank alleys
in search of the legendary ultimate dumpster
the prize of every divers wet dreams
wandering all night with a few vampire hangers on
looking for a fashionable means to a glorious end
meanwhile the corner girl is waiting on me
thinking i'm just trying to find her a safe place to be
she is my safe place and i'm hers
the few of us that survive the moment
stroll on through the rain
to the dairy queen
to see and be seen
dont cha' hate that whole show up
to show off
she lives to die for it
but thats ok
cause i love her just the same
3.7k · May 2013
serenity
mark john junor May 2013
"the picture you called badass"

i keep coming back to this image
your gaze is shifted off
as if to say that you wished
not to speak with your eyes
wished not to show too much
of your beautiful soul
strands of your hair
scattered across your soft skin
every beautiful line
every sweetly scented soft taste
and the warmth i see in you
enraptures me
i feel dizzy
with thoughts that you bring out
that is what true beauty
dose to men
but you are so much more than
simply beautiful
i have seen your tenderness
i have seen that you have heart
i know you are just as beautiful
inside

i wish things could have been different
and i could have at least been your friend
i wish i were not a fool
but we all make choices that are
not the best

i am far away from you now
and i will miss you
i think that we wont see
eachother again
if i fail where i am going
there is a plan for another route
that takes me overseas

you are one of the most beautiful
and strong and wonderful women i have ever met
and i wish you nothing but love and happiness
'stay gold' serenity
'stay gold'
'stay gold' reference to 'the outsiders' by s. e. hinton
3.6k · Sep 2013
lounge lizard
mark john junor Sep 2013
but you are smooth in full regalia
reptilian in your lounge suit
your westchester upbringing
shows in your brooks brothers snake skin boots
so she knows your from old school money
and plants a perfumed eye on your rear end
it sticks there like sweaty glue
every inch of her polished skin
fermented at great expense
and you thought suntans were hard to pay off
try having the ***** pickled in whiskey
but the divorce would leave you
a destitute sideshow on rodeo drive
with nothing but your mansion and your jag
standing between you and the unwashed masses
so you make her slap on another layer of makeup
you drop another crotch rocket happy hardness pill
and slip a few more bucks over the border to Switzerland
and drop a quick prayer to the twin god of Morgan and Stanley
that the market holds for one more day
lounge lizard
pushing seventy
with a twenty two year old ******
on one arm
and the keys to the rolls clutched in your liver spotted hand
your ready for anything
you may be king of the florida keys
but
gotta respect the cash flow
if what your pointless poison
bites off your **** more than goes into your mouth
then ya gotta wonder kiddo
if moving back to the homestead
in Spuyten Duyvil
might be better than lettin lifestyle carjack your life
that twenty two year old ***** you got poured all over your lap
has more spider in her than girlish charm
shes a train wreck waiting to happen
ill get ya to the border safe and sound
don't 'cha worry bout that
have you headed north
fore they even know your gone
may be the king of the florida keys
but it high time we get ya
back to brooklyn fore they bury you down here
for a friend.
3.6k · Mar 2014
dreadlock girl
mark john junor Mar 2014
she rides her mountain bike
in the sun
dreadlocks fluttering behind like streamers
shes all smiles
as we come to our spot by the river
this beautiful place called fiveashes
and unpack the picnic basket
the world itself is beautiful when i'm with her
time itself loves her essence
even the graffiti looks like love letters the world
has written for her alone

theres something darkly romantic
about the nights down by fiveashes
something about thouse long miles
flying by on nightbreeze
with her hand in mine
with her lips on mine
its like a valley safe from the worlds seein
a place where naked and free we can be just we

down by fiveashes
the backseat of our buick is on fire
with her passions
and the lust in my soul
and theres something darkly romantic
about the humid warm air  and how her shirt clings to her **** skin
about the songbirds opening up the mysterious day
like a gift for the dreadlock girls that shine

she lay with me tangled in her afterwards
as we watch the stars and catch our breath
i taste her on my lips
i can taste her on my soul
like shes a sunrise
rapidly banishing my life's shadows
and breathing life itself into my heart
(for jezebel)
3.6k · Jun 2014
driftwood throne
mark john junor Jun 2014
she sat on a driftwood throne
at her feet lay the ruins of a stone man
her hair a wild world of winds draws you into her hurricane eyes
her lip a forest of meanings tender and soft
a single loose tear like a wild horse run free
she sat on a driftwood throne in all her glory
sun and salt water cadence to the living breathing dream
song of existence untainted

and now another song intrudes
one of loves lionhearted and bold
seafarer's son come of age
come seeking courtship of her soft hand
to be bound in the silken desire's both hot and sweet
and the dark ones such shy girl dare not speak

he brushes away the sand from her soft thigh
and within his mind romances such sweet
tender spot with a reign of kisses
but just then she arose graceful like the soft beatings of dove's wing
and emerging from the veil of his minds fanciful dreams
she laid before him her sandpaper eyes
so intense that summer sounds
like children at play and such soothing tones
could not hide her behind
he withdraws still no more than a child in her eyes
she desires a stronger, a true love
one that is not a fleeting fancy dream
one of a man who can speak his heart

the sand had invaded her driftwood throne
so into the dusk she sauntered slowly
with graceful flow
trailing his eyes behind her like glories of wishes
like worshiping doves
for such beauties perfection
he will return some day a man
once he has learned
3.5k · Feb 2014
storm warnings
mark john junor Feb 2014
the nature of this night
spreads its thin harvest upon my table
a gruel and water porridge feast
with the fanfares of her jaundiced hand
many more lined up with eager grin
for the warmth of paupers kinship
thin blanket wrapped round our shoulders
snow gathers at feet
she captures the moment on paper
the image of all of us gathered like when we were young

the grandiose illustration
with its brilliant colour fanfare with
jugglers and wine swilling laughing men blinded by drink
chorus line of female dancers who wear costumes of the hundred years war
lead the assault on the last bastions of the ignorance of bliss
all descrying that we can ill afford to be sleeping
while empires are built in our namesake
the so daintily shod soldiers whos feminine wiles misunderstood
have taken over the dancehall beneath us
and have taken up song
the grandiose illustration
caught by her pen on sketch pad
has leanings to the Marxist revolutions
and philosophys of the rhetorical
but in the end we join them and
drink the port sing the song

a thousand years of tales to be told
in the eyes of a single girls sweet thoughts
epic landscapes filled with noble men and storybook girls
the grandiose illustration
shows the two of us on the beach
with the sun racing down to touch the high towers of miami
and fill the laughing joys of thouse who toss and
tumble in the breaking waves
the nature of this night
in one small corner of the illustration
a simple window with the shade drawn
that says goodnight
3.5k · Jan 2014
sharp edge of cloud
mark john junor Jan 2014
vexed by the solidity of the granular surface
of this rough and tumble dream
i awaken to a forest of sunlight's in a dark world
to my sleep numbed mind
it resembles
the artwork of french revolt era
royal court damsel in distress figurines
dancing with dark-ages statues of plagues death
the starving meet the fed
and they struggle for who leads this dancehall of the marcarbe
burning the ashes of the old worlds dead flames

i look away to find her face
near mine
cut into shadowy sections
i hear within her spoken thoughts
the contortions her life has suffered
at the hands of grey faced strangers known intimately by her
i wish with heart and soul to reach out
and comfort
to remove the burden

the shadows of her face
are reflections of the world as she sees it
she is mesmerized by its ugliness
and she cannot close the door to her past
it lay like her childhoods bedroom
filled with broken teddy bears
and soiled sheets
if i could heal you
if i could even ease your moment
i would trade my living soul to have your smile
you are loved
you are so loved

a lame beggar in the rags of a monk
limps slowly from the effigy of a old world
as it burns with unspoken rages
white smoke from the roof
another chapter of history closed
with too many secrets
too many
but the beggar takes consolation
that she was given a second chance
a dove birthed from flames
here in the dust of the old world
you are loved
you are so loved
3.4k · Jul 2014
under sweet summer sun
mark john junor Jul 2014
sweet summer thick with late day sun
all the the children running with laughter's an joys
the men plowing in the rich soil
the women hands to hips all the washin to be done
hear em singing as each stitch laid to cloth
hear em laughing under the beautiful sun
aint no living to be done till you lived
natural on the land....
sweet summer thick with late day sun
walking back now to gather for supper
hear em singing with joys bounty
aint no living to be done till
ya come live under a sweet summer sun
all the children sleepin under the night sky
all the folks dreamin wonderful lives
aint no living like under the natural sun
3.4k · Jul 2013
beach bike
mark john junor Jul 2013
the moving shadows of
the men gathering
flicker in my vision
cause me to ponder the moment
in a way i had not seen before
cause me to fracture the vision
to decode the meanings in
each mans motion
each mans meaning

her long black hair entangles my head
as dose her deep long looking
her neat clean eyes frighten me
with their possibilitys
with their depth
with their hot beauty

it is not my place to find
a place in this womans life
i am but a distraction to her
somthing to occupy the moment
to phish for lost keys
in sections of some dreadlock music
she erased poems to fit onto the kindle

she removes her shirt
to rinse out the sweat
in the tidal pool
a young woman nearby stops
and stares
smiles when they meet eyes
and i am surfing my beach bike alone
walking it
home?
where am I
where am i going?
3.3k · Sep 2014
rad lizard king
mark john junor Sep 2014
the dead poet of your romantic youth
left behind his melodious words in song
left behind his roadside fast eyes neatly packaged
still can purchase his dream down at the five and dime
still can find a tight leather pants version
of his photograph looking lizard like
in clean bollywood style

the dead poet of your romantic youth
lingers there in her eyes
she always said he was so rad
with her eighties big hair
the dead poet was in one of his many revivals
they would drag the poor old slob out
prop him up and take a picture
the dead poet lizard king
his words faded now
as his star on the walk of fame
tribute to jim morrison (i still like his work even after all the hype)
3.2k · Dec 2013
tortoise shell
mark john junor Dec 2013
her smile
and tortoise shell glasses
her picture perfect
delicious curves scented by parisian roses
she steps neatly into the bustling room
and with just a hint of a smile
she stops the room cold in it tracks
as all heads turn
and i must stop and smile to myself
even the other girls desire to be in her arms
even they dream for a moment
of dancing in bed tonight
she leans down and places a tender kiss on my cheek
and the room slowly drifts back to its own dreams
she a tender perfection worshipful and giving joys
she sits with me and
her tight jeans are soft and warm under my hand
and i find myself fascinated by
how she fills up my senses in a moment
i make love to her essence on the air
and passionately tenderly kiss her presence so near
to me that it sets me afire
she takes me
as i take her
3.2k · Jul 2013
tokyo bike
mark john junor Jul 2013
he rides his bicycle in the the
torrential rain
plowing a froth quick and fierce
through the rivers created

the cycle once bright orange
has patches of rust the size
of cantaloupe
and has a blue hoodie wrapped
round the seat which smells musty

you can feel him panting
bathed in sweat
as each hill retains more and more of
his hard earned pace
but mother nature is kind to her
strangest son
and every hill has a
fly by the seat of your pants
whoop whoop laughing
breeze in you hair bugs in your teeth
downhill

shift to vision miles distant from
that smile
the cycle lay in the weeds by the river
broken
the night obscures
the riderless iron steed
its form twisted
it has expressions of pain in appearance
that paint cannot contain
pain for its own lost
freedom of the road
but pain for its rider

the years count on and on
from that downhill smile moment
that lives on in the heart
LOL...oh god, i have another editor :-) what is it with the women i bed, allways correcting my spelling LOL
mark john junor Mar 2014
the hour slips by without a sound
and through the looking glass window
the days unfolding scene
gives life and motion
to the surreal stillness within
the silent theatricals of man and beast
strive and fail under the shifting skies
like the rise and fall of nameless empires
their brilliant banners swiftly stirred by
the storms and seas

i walk along the fresh laid carpet
with bare feet feeling the texture
and stand at the doorway
with its wooden contraptions ajar to allow breezes
to walk into the dark house

the heavy presence of paint on the air
and the devices of workmen underfoot
soon will fade to memory as our polished lives
are neatly adorned and trimmed
we have become what we dread
civilized

she walks from the bedroom
wearing nothing but her dreadlocks
as i finish making dinner
we have duck and wild rice
i teach her some ballroom dancing steps
we laugh and whisper
the night has come to its fading
and though we are restless
we trek to our bed
and wrestle eachother to sleep

this is evening with her
and our elegant love affair
3.2k · Jun 2014
sundown for the foolish
mark john junor Jun 2014
the folded man
sat creasing the edges of his wallet sized heart
and stared off into the romantic night
full of lovers embracing
and others who silently wished for a hand to hold

he waited for her soft footsteps
but she just sat in her bedroom mirror brushing her hair
thinking of some boy from long ago
sundown was just that kind of girl
trade your temptations today for the empty promise of yesterday
she will stay here another season
maybe he will pass this way
maybe the storm clouds gathering will go away

the harlots all dance with unacquainted tenderness
not all embraces are done with joy
call it a sundown's choice cause its a bad one
and the gambler brushes dust off his neat appearances
each detail of his solitude lie must be cared for
lest it crumble and expose hes just a green kid
from illinois
we all put the best face we can
some just take it too far

she went to the picture show
and looked for familiar faces in the crowded hall
but the folded man had already slipped away
with one of the harlots
who will make a pretty bride someday
everybody gets a second chance
they just may not want it once they get it

she brushed the ashes from her clothes
they fell like thin snowfall on spring day
a last taste of winters hand
out of the burnt shell of the dancehall at dawn we came
the thick smoke splayed out on the thin wind
wound its way past catching the dust and
making the sunlight a dull brown
she looked at me with tears for eyes
asked me to take her from this place
everybody gets a second chance
they just may not want it once they get it
(her name, what the hell was her name...something childish like tranquility)
3.1k · Aug 2014
teacher
mark john junor Aug 2014
the skilled craftsman
he labors pen on page in nights silence
the names and faces of his students
vividly painted to him in small ways on each page

the girl with her flourish of drawings
in the margins of her work
a bird delicately drawn to appear to be dropping
the words onto the page
in amongst her arguments that shakespeare was a charlatan...
the young man from the morning bell
who dose not write as much as he carves and hacks
his words into the dull instrument of the page
crafting it in his way to resemble the angry face he wears within

this quiet man
teacher
he learns too
from the patchwork quilt of humanity
that passes year by year through his world
some shine brightly
others faded away into obscurity's cage
see him sitting in nights silence
pen in hand
a master craftsman at his labor of love
(for my brotherman kristian...get well kid :-) ..........)
3.0k · Feb 2014
porridge and whey
mark john junor Feb 2014
she hovers over the handwritten letter
with maniacal grin gripping her face
as she devours his texted words
with weeping eyes
and she sings in unnatural tones a child's lullaby in some
forgotten french dialect
delightful reflections in song of the garden gate
leaning broken onto the rough hewn path
where the soulless cherubs cherish their seed

in haphazard rows cherub faces sling silent tears
and labour at the desires never felt and
the dark soils never fertile
seeking redemptions in the rebirth of the harvest moon
which decorates the far wall of the tomb

the cherubs brief delighted laughters
soon sputter and fail
as in the dying light of day
reveals that they must labour yet another day
to no useful end

she lives in this place
a cottage of straw with dark windows
and a wood stained door
she sits on its porch with knitting in hand
weaving futures for her beloved cherubs
weaving pasts for her own
she devoured him like she did his words
and came home to roost
like her innocent faced dragoons
she will someday march forth with this army of doom
but today she is content to be contrite
knitting porridge and whey wall hangings
from the tables of the
steampunk princess
3.0k · Oct 2013
laughing cowgirl
mark john junor Oct 2013
vapour locked
her vacant eyes looking
up at the falling stars
at the laughing cowgirl riding a
rocket to the moon
a hero to her generation
a pin up girl flashing a bit of skin
but the intent is betrayed by the feeling
that this endless road has consequences

she wanders the shopping mall of our world
with a loose credit card
as her only symbol of belonging
as her only connection to humanity
guard your purchases against theft
guard your heart against pilfering
but she just looks through you with
a dazzled distraction
that defies definition
she's happier there than most of us
are here

a white picket fence
surrounds the ruins that she picks through
the rubble of her thoughts in a scattered pile
while the tatters of her former life
now decorate the walls of a fools parade
now is the poster child of the loosing war
but she endures the winter rain
and stacks the broken bricks of her former world
neatly into the categories she was shown
as a child
and that's all she wants to return to
the innocence of childhood
no complexity's  
no hangups

vapour locked into the
moment she escaped all the things
she thought
and the things she almost but not quit felt
when her man came round
trying to convince herself that
if she fakes it long enough
she be happy someday
playin the housewife and mother
playin the well adjusted and smiling face
she has plastered on every morning for twenty two years

but in her heart
she's with that cowgirl
riding rocket to the moon
and kissing all the girls
kissing all the girls
then she'd be happy
and in her heart she knows it
so why is she lingering here ill never know
ill never know
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