Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
Now, if you think I am the only writer or poet of my kind in this New Age Millennium, you are mistaken

There is me that is, Sammy Kendricks and my crew of reject ragtag writers extraordinaire who are going to change this world

First on the roster we have Haden Zanders, a poet who tackles topics from a humorous but  intelligent and eloquent way

Then there's Zach Nichols my personal shaman, he's into paganism, mysticism, alchemy and spirituality as a whole
His writing is out of this world, literally and add to it he's a musician who is single handedly innovating the neo tribal music genre

Next In Derek Neman, a poet and musican close to my heart, a bit younger than the rest of us but still hold his own
He is loving, caring and has a strong spirit that I know will take him wherever he goes
His words can make mountains weep

Then there are Kaspar and Otto
Kaspar is a poet of the romantic variety, hopelessly devoted to love
Otto is a writer who can sum up any topic in a matter of a few lines
But powerful lines they be
Short, sweet and to the point

Up next is my good friend Jeeves, Jeeves isn't his real name
His real name is Nat but that was too boring so we all call him Jeeves
He is one of the mad ones, stricken with a severe case of wanderlust and wonderment
He served in the navy for three years
Now he's back and writes of his travels and his loves and losses
He paint, plays bass and philosophizes the human condition

Of course how could I forget Pete, a clean cut good 'ol boy
Always down to meet woman and have a drink and make a night out of a day
He writes rhymes like I've never seen
So vibrant and addicting

We all have that friend we **** heads with and Sonny is that friend for me
We're opposites in every sense of the word
You all know me so imagine the reverse
But his writing is political, realistic, stoic, emotional and completely him
I love him to death, there will come a day where we throw down

Now finally last but not least
You know him
You love him
You hate him
It's the Don Juan of Dumont
The one and only
Quincy Valero
His writing reads as fast as he lives
A mile a minute
Girls, cars, drugs, food, parties
Excess and excitement
Memories and mistakes
Highs and lows
Yes

But of course we have other non writing friends
Zeik Adams my engineering friend whos gonna be rich someday
Nyal Jensen our dancing friend who always brings it to the floor in every club we hit
Ahio Rikashi our best bud from the far east, romantic and deep
Kyle Filmore my trippy drummer
And Mike Neman, Derek's younger brother and one of my closest friends

We've all shared pain and laughter
Trips, drunken evenings
Road trips, meals
Quarrels and misunderstandings
But we all care about each other
And all of our writing and our goal to always be there to check the pulse of this world
Hell, even start it up when it wains off every now and then
We're here to give this generation a kick start
A reminder of what we can and will do
We can revitalize our world with knowledge, understanding and unity
We are the pulse generation
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
The Mecca is the trifecta of the vertex of the epicenter of the apex
But we just use that as a reference point
We refused to be swayed by centripetal force
And peeled back the layers of the mind to find the inertia that had given us the centrifugal force to push us in our quest to find the ultimate reality

I saw a vandal giving in to voyeurism
When a watershed moment happened

He had a sudden premonition
There were nervous virgins about to take the plunge
There were people giving hi 5's to each other and making pinky promises they swore to keep
There were poor soul's trying to quit cold turkey
Eating molten ****** cakes

I looked to the East and visions came to me as well
I saw kids having fever dreams of pitching fits and fever pitches
I saw liberated lesbian librarians eating their feelings and playing
"**** one, **** one, marry one"
I saw the extinction of guilty pleasures
I saw a man being caught up in getting up to speed with
I trifling teenagers
Low on money but high off drugs
I saw myself checking in to check up on the check out line to pick out and pick up a new catcher's mitt
I caught a case
A call
And a cold

I saw the love of my life running towards me on a soft white beach
As she came closer I could see her beginning to decay
Her skin melted
Her organs and blood fell from her
Her eyes and teeth dropped out of her head
Her hair fell out
And her skeleton came into my arms and I heard a whisper
"I will always be with you, my uncrowned king"
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
I'm the reclusive wreck-loose
Who's about to let loose
And instigate and substantiate the fact that society's narrow mindedness is there for us to instantiate that we ourselves have to promote understanding and antiquate hate
Accidents happened and mistakes were made

They take a sardonic look at the schematics of a systematic syncopated symmetry    
They say we dare not deviate from the Fibonacci Sequence
But to matriculate
And be quick on the uptake
Then add ourselves to the division of labour

I make empirical claims to disarm ephemeral things
Fashion
Technology
Music
Life as a whole
But then I'm the *******
They salt the songbird's tail
Clipping the properties of personality

"Bide your time so you don't do anything foolish and bite your tongue so you don't say anything you may regret"
But this is this part of the cocoon effect  
Waiting to see all the failed racists
After this metaphysical metamorphosis
So modern
So contemporary
It's classic
Soon to be ancient
The adages and aesthetic aphrodisiacs

'Who do you want to be when you grow up?"
"What do you want to be when you grow up"

"I want to be civilization as you know it..or as you like it"

Peradam-  Something that shows itself to those who truly seek it.
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
My hear pounds as the thunder fills the spaces of sound.
And rain begins to trickle down my awning and into a puddle outside my door.
I look out and see a dark grey arrangement of clouds covering the morning sky.
The clock is screaming the reminder of my lateness.
I haven’t swept or made my bed yet.
Ah, never mind that as I rush down the staircase attempting to put on my coat.
I mustn’t miss it this time.
A ****** my notebook and pencil case.
Throw my scratched burgundy leather shoes, step into the spontaneous downpour.
Locking the door and running out into the storm.
My hair messy and wet, my pants becoming drenched in no time at all.
I need to make it this time.
Stomping through the mud covered roads and soggy plains.
My watch prompts me that I have only a few moments before the time has passed.
Oh cruel planet, may the spinning of your axis come to halt for just this moment I beg of you.
The hopes in dreams of this flashing moment dancing violently in my head for days now.
The thunders booms over my head, throwing off my equilibrium causing me to slip and slash my knee.
None the less I stride on to my desired intention.
Over the bridges, passing decayed and blooming trees blowing in this calamitous squall.
My coat fluttering in the opposing wind.
Almost
There
My socks drowned, my pants saturated, my shirts soaked and my coat overtaken by the rainfall and all its enormity.
But my determination dry and steady as anything.
I will not, cannot stop.
Lightning now fills the sky and my pounding heart skips a beat.
Time is running thin, just a little more to go.
Must procure this task that has been asked of me and carry it out with the greatest of precision.
My feat now wet and blood from dashing through a rocky river bed.
I can see it, the house, I’m almost there.
Lightning and thunder engulf the atmosphere and sound barrier.
My clothes must be twenty pounds heavier since I’ve walked out of my house.
Ah, but sweet relief and victory now come to me as I open the door and sprint into the house to water my dear friend’s house plants.
A promise I had made to her before she left for Denver.
Perhaps she has an umbrella I may borrow for my venture home.
Oh the suns breaking through the clouds, the rain is dwindling down to a drizzle, thunders dissipated and lightning is no more.
Good.
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
My mind is out of focus
And my mouth is dry
My eyes are too heavy
'Im so very tired

And my face is blank
My heart is slow
My body is so warm
Then it turns cold

Now my body twitches
My breathing is getting deep
I can't trust my ears
Or images that I see

It seems that I'm here
But my mind is gone
Time seems so short
But feels so long

My system needs a shock
Or a wake up call
When you talk to me
Its like conversing with a wall

Caffeine don’t do a thing
Caffeine won;t do a thing
Caffeine does nothing
Caffeine do something
The sunshine hurts my eyes
My mood is so damp
I'm like a zombie
Try to get up but I can't

Brain drain
Brain drain
Causing me mental pain

Brain drain
Brain drain
My head can't sustain

Brain drain
Brain drain
Everything looks the same

Brain drain
Brain drain
I feel so lame

Brain drain
Brain drain
I can't concentrate
Brain drain
Brain drain
Worn out from this game

Wake me up
Get me up
Keep me up
Give me up

My head begs for endorphins
But I cant oblige
Now I'm feeling down
It weeps and it cries

Keep my head spinning
At every minute of every day
But now I'm running on fumes
You got nothing to say

You got my heart, hold it oh so tight
I go behind your back doing things that ain't so right
Wrap me up in all this drama I wanna leave
I need to take a break I'm almost outta steam

In school I'm barely getting by
Because I'm focused on getting laid and getting high
My mind wandered off
To where it shouldn't have been
So now it has died
And buried with my sins

I wanna go back to normal
Original thought process
Mind and body went to hell and back
All I can do is digress

I had too much fun for way to long
So now my right is left and my left is wrong

I've got all this stress and it piles up
But it's on my shoulders and I can't pass the buck

I find no enjoyment in what I once held dear
Becoming eternally empty is my deepest fear
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
Pawn to E-4
Just jumped my way to some money
A favor, a ride and some of my time
I'm not sure if I’ll survive

On the way to Newark to make a pick up
What are we getting?
Don’t worry about it
Just be cool

We have to go to the pines first
Pick up a friend
Out patient
Addicted to *******

The truth comes out
And what a smack in the face
We’re getting ******
And it's going in my trunk

The two start doing lines in the back seat
As I get on to the highway
My palms sweat and thoughts go 70 miles per hours as the car goes 50
How did I get here?

I’m an escort
Escorting them to buy powdered death
To spread to the junkies and the ******
And I’m as guilty as they are

We get to a burger place
And I run to the bathroom stall
And I make a call to my friend
I tell him what's going on

I rant and rave
And plan an escape
But there's no way  out
And I'm stuck here now, ride it out

We get to the destination
We walked through the doors
Three guys pulled out their guns
And patted us down

They're clean
We were clean
I felt anything but
Covered in guilt and doused in paranoia

The money is traded for the smack
We all walk away happy and less tense
All but me, I leave with anxiety and a deep fear
So much fear

Fear of getting shot
Fear of getting caught
Fear of killing someone
Fear of myself

I let myself get here because I wanted an adventure
I continued even after I found out where we were going and why
I even took part in buying it with them
And now were off to Ridgewood
Who am I?

Come and get it
The eager hopeless junkies flock
In half an hour it’s all gone
I held the money
It was so heavy

The weight of the guilt and shame dragged me down
Down to a place I'd never been before
Where I know how disgusting I am
The thought of myself was enough to make me *****
The two guys I was with couldn’t be happier
They made their money for the day
The two of them made me apprehensive
So uneasy and unfamiliar

The one kid had sold me the key a few weeks back
And now hes asked of me the task I had completed
He had just tried this stuff yesterday
And plans to do it again, hes gone

His friend, had more experience
Heroine, coke, uppers and downers
Addicted, enslaved to substance
His manic mental state didn’t help matters either

By then my trunk was empty
And my heart was full of guilt
My mind was full of whys
But my pocket had 50 bucks in it

And now we all ride back to school
I cut class for this adventure
I went to the farthest place from my comfort zone
And now I know my limits

Never again
Never again
I'm sorry, never again
Check mate
Tommy Johnson Mar 2015
Rebellious youth stay still
Drinking until you get your fill
Violent youth, angry youth
Mom and dad don’t know what to do
You are proof, you are the truth
You are the reason that your parents fight

With home behind him, the future in his hands
Free from sin, never to be touched again
Let his life finally begin

Rebellious youth stay still
Drinking until you get your fill
Free from sin, never to be touched again
Let his life finally begin

Rebellious youth stay still
You won’t give up no you never will

That's it we're shipping you off to Siberia!
Next page