#johnny
Is it not ironic that millions and millions of American
heterosexual teenagers more than over a half century
ago fell in love under the spell of Johnny Mathis's
love songs? I was one of them, and today I begin each
day listening to him sing his magical songs on YouTube
while I drink two cups of coffee with milk (ratio: 1: 1)
to wake up. I, like most of you, have spent much of
my free time listening to enchanting love songs. Someone
once asked me if I had a hobby. I paused for a few
moments, then replied, ""Yes, I do have a hobby. My
hobby is collecting beauty--beautiful music, beautiful
memories, beautiful sunsets, and the like." I think the
best single singer of my lifetime, male or female, is
Johnny Mathis, who is still alive and performing as
I write this. Remember "Chances Are," "The Twelth
of Never," "Wonderful, Wonderful" among countless
others? The irony of which I spoke? Johnny is gay.
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 1:00 PM UTC
Indestructible, for Johnny Cash
by Michael R. Burch
What is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash is gone,
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Can a man out-endure mountains’ stone
if his songs lift us closer to heaven?
Can the steel in his voice vibrate on
till his words are our manna and leaven?
Then sing, all you mountains of stone,
with the rasp of his voice, and the gravel.
Let the twang of thumbed steel lead us home
through these weary dark ways all men travel.
For what is a mountain, but stone?
Or a spire, but a trinket of steel?
Johnny Cash lives on—
black from his hair to his bootheels.
Originally published by Strong Verse. When I was a teenager Johnny Cash used to pop into the Nashville McDonald’s where I worked to buy burgers after the Grand Ole Opry let out. True to his nickname, the Man in Black always wore black. I think he’s as immortal now as human beings can become, since someone will be singing songs he wrote and and recorded till the end of time. Keywords/Tags: Johnny Cash, black, hair, clothes, boots, voice, rasp, gravel, steel, guitar, songs, music, mountain, stone, heaven, manna, leaven
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC
One very bright day,
the sun will melt
these frozen fragments, away,
where you will become one with her, loving her more,
a little while longer my friend
all the way.
Dec 26, 2019
Dec 26, 2019 at 6:29 AM UTC
He drives into the desert in a Toronado,
Dust in his eyes from the open window,
Sun on the burned skin and black mascara
That augments his vivid gaze.
Black orbs that stare at the burning sand,
His mouth is defiant and morose,
He turns off the path into the sage and saguaro.
The car is like a black beetle on a carpet of tan.
He lifts a shovel from the trunk, looking crazed.
Digs a shallow grave in the sand,
He rips a talisman from his neck
And declares he is looking for something
Unclear and he slurs a chant.
“Something is coming”, he seems to say.
He buries the necklace and drives away.
Will he come back for it or leave it
for the spirits of the desert?
No, he will come for it every day
Bury it again and again
Until the spell wears down,
The perfumed season is done,
Or perhaps the spring floods
Wash it all away.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 7:47 AM UTC
It was dark and day
the day I read the words came straight
from [redacted]'s brain placed upon
this coded page
Oh my delightful
bedstand book took the rope and pulled
from the poetry a noose
with which to cull
its zombie
body
infused
with life
only as
love peace
& pros
per
ity
[redacted],
imbue
me be
fore I
leave
O,
please
Jul 8, 2018
Jul 8, 2018 at 9:46 PM UTC
He played me
like a 3-chord riff
Old Johnny boy
Kiss the girls and
told every one of them
she was the one
I needed to believe him
black Johnny
with his slick honey tongue
talking and come singing like he
was a charmed cello box
build good bridges Johnny
you never know
when you'll need them
He spoke to me in runes
casted a spell on me
with his lips
then saved my broken pieces
for last
Good night Johnny
Enchanter of the song
bring me your candy even
if I'm wrong
May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 2:00 AM UTC
You want me to tell you, it's over
no more blood or useless death
It'll never happen again
wasted and worthless the breath
A fluke and a twist of bad fate
a fool with bullets, a gun
The child petulant reviled
but dangerous, down, too each one
Where O where are the parents?
the idiot creators of hell
Making up creatures and monsters
yet not recognizing their smell
So do as you wish, be ye righteous
and believe that all children are mild
Hold too the notion of innocence
but all demons created
go wild
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 9:27 PM UTC
you have mistaken us
for someone that wont
*****
word
you
?
...
..
.
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
Johnny Hallyday was a working-class hero,
From the torn seams of French society---
He put his hand on Christ’s head
And bled out like a waterfall,
I don’t know which eyes were watching
this world in their cosmic zoot suits,
But Brigitte Bardot was in there somewhere
Hiding out w/ Supergirl, her vampire’s teeth
biting only vegetables while he sings his song on one knee;
Maria Callas came by and gave him a kiss
In her silver time-bending suit---
He’s the last zazou and immortal like u
But her twin comets are falling to earth
In tandem with the time it takes
for one man to fall and rise and fall
and rise again like so many others---
He ****** Twiggy and four wives (not once but twice)
All while playing guitar, his talent extraterrestrial
from the ravaged streets of collaborators---
(shaved head dolly ***** by old men in the filthy Paris street)---
He ****** Twiggy twice & she loved it
in her English way---
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 1:24 AM UTC
At the Sky Ride on St. Thomas
We sweltered in the heat
Waiting for the cable cars to come
Strangers seeking tourist treats
Up the way, a pirate staggered from the depths,
Dressed and drinking imaginary ***
Wobbling a bit, the player indiscernible on first glance
From one Jack Sparrow.
I couldn't help but wonder to what depths,
Jack Sparrow's character has invaded Johnny Depp.
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 3:31 PM UTC
can you see me?
my time is now.
you can not stop me
my time is now.
is your time up? my time is now,
only you know, my time is now
its the franchise boy, my time is now
you cant. see. me.
my time is now.
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 7:55 AM UTC
As you can see now
We've lost two men to Father Time
They were your friends
As they were mine
They both were outlaws
and they lived life their own way
If we had our choice
They'd still be here today
But, I am not the one
Who took them both away
That's all I've got to say
They were our brothers
And they stood here dressed in black
Close your eyes and they are back
They're in the ether
Waiting there for their return
They'll tell us what they saw
And then we will all learn
That life's a circle
And death is no concern
When they do return....
We are all highwaymen
And we all travel different roads
We all bear witness
Carry loads
We will all pass this way
More than once I'm sure
There will be other times
When we meet at death's door
But as for now, I say
No more than evermore
For we will meet again....
Once there were four of us
And the world was our domain
We've gone away
Come back again
We sailed the seven seas
And rode the highway roads
We flew on starships
And we followed our own code
We met the horsemen
And our souls we did unload
And we'll be back again...
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
they got soldier ants
and worker ants and ***** ants
right inside that wall
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 9:52 PM UTC
I'm so fuckin' glad
I trusted you, Johnny, to
Go out and buy meat
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
Floating, drifting,
Slowly it passed from his hand
To the cold, hard sidewalk.
It once was a pretty flower,
With petals bright and cheerful
And a stem green and healthy.
Johnny’s night had not been great,
As was anticipated by his mom.
“You’ll have fun!” she said.
“But what about…” he trailed off,
Remembering the hulking ex-boyfriend
Of Lily, the girl he thought he loved.
“Just have fun,” she soothed.
Walking- no scuffling -down the street,
He remembered those last words she had said.
Even though this hadn’t been the night of his life,
He could still have a good time, right?
Five minutes later,
Johnny exited the nearby hardware store.
Four cans of spray paint in hand,
He drifted into the community center downtown.
All Johnny needed was a blank canvas
And about an hour before they closed for the night.
*I thought I was going to get my first kiss.
I could have sworn she was going to be my girlfriend this time.
If only I wasn’t such a dork,
Then maybe she would be interested in me.
I hate everyone and everything!*
The paint sprayed and splattered onto the canvas.
Johnny was breathing hard now.
Now he was ready, he was energized.
Ready to take on the world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a cover over the painting,
Johnny headed back to the dance.
He hadn’t even entered the building before,
Which meant he still had his ticket.
Johnny threw his ticket to the usher
And made his way over to the DJ.
“Turn off the music for like five minutes. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll give you three dollars
And whatever else is in my pocket.”
“Fine. Five minutes. No more.”
“Thanks.” Johnny smiled.
As soon as the music was off,
Johnny dashed over to Lily
And her giant boyfriend.
He set the painting on the floor
And grabbed her in his arms.
Johnny then kissed her
As passionately as he knew how.
Lily, stunned and confused,
Teetered back onto a chair.
Then, just when the huge brute was about to punch him,
Johnny swiftly clutched the picture and ripped off its cover.
The boyfriend gazed, along with the rest of the crowd,
At the beautiful girl on the canvas.
“You painted this?”
“Yeah.”
“You really love Lily, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you need to kiss her again.”
The ex-boyfriend smiled at Johnny and Johnny smiled back.
He looked over at Lily.
He handed his painting to the ex-boyfriend.
Johnny reached for Lily’s hand,
Wrapped his arms around her.
“Will you, Lily, be my girlfriend?”
Lily gazed into Johnny’s eyes,
Leaned in,
And whispered in his ear,
“Yes.”
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
Johnny remembers the barn
He kissed his first cow in
It burned down two years ago
Johnny holds his head low
Pointing towards the floor
Pointing towards the door
He drinks homemade grape juice
And thinks about how odd
It is that we crush small things
And drink their blood
Johnny does not want to be crushed
He does not like the sinking feeling
He gets when he thinks about
The grey silo that still stands
By the dark patch of grass
That won't grow back again
He wishes the clock would stop
Talking at such a steady volume
Johnny has trouble sleeping
Ever since the barn burned down
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC