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173.4k · Dec 2013
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful millennials freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will encourage them to look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuition's skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday; and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the overabundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding ******* adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grin extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple speculations and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree on a cool fall night.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be
Beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move.
To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but ****.
Then there are over the counter candies, Oxycontin, ******, Adderall and Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, ******* and speed easily obtainable to them. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so the parents can feel like they're actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on themselves because they cannot handle the way their offsprings actually are. Some parents a feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn't so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty. I've seen it, firsthand front row.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterday's conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom that groan in apathy and hold the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system is but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and dedication so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share ****** fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones and know we are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The scholars.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, The Holy Bible, mantras and meditation, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita, and Upanishads. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Goals equivalent
Kabala, Scientology and Wicca
Amish and Mormons
All separate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents stalking social media, recordings of our personal lives and police brutality. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protesters, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi receiving every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to secure our nation's investments across the sea? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the ****** machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, *******, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s *******. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who ***** them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the ****** that was just ****** deep into their *****.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to create something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chinos, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Kandi kids sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the rainy days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burly firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMT's, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout beneath flickering streetlights, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to some shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. "Gay", "****", "******", "queer", how about "kind", "funny", "genuine human being"? The right to be married and divorced should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovah's going door to door, Mormons from Burbank. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is rampant, blood diseases, ****** diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, Asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years walking down Alzheimer's Lane, not being able to remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago but revisiting gold nuggets from from fifty-some-odd years ago with ease. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some can't even sleep at night but they still carry on. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. Or be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Unhindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained  bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, ****, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
19.0k · Apr 2014
Sick And Twisted
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Hurt me
Whips and blindfolds
Boarded up bedrooms
Being satisfied
Hard bulbous *** toys
Using flavored lubricants
Deep scratches
Red marks
Rope burn
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
We are all human beings
We all have our own lives
And different ways we live them
But each one of us is a writer
And this poem is for all of you

All of you who have virtues and use them in your writing
Those who use flashbacks and revisit mental photo albums

Beginning the story from the middle for that’s usually where you mind is at
Looking back then looking forward
Studying the past so you can be ready for what is to come

Recording catastrophes with a number two pencil

Tales and blurbs of tragedy
Caused by love or the lack there of

Rewards and punishment
Self-reliance and self-fulfillment

We are mere narrators
Humble, maybe unreliable
Equipped with numerous devices
Ironic Paradoxes
Red herrings
Fortuitous plot twists
Allegoric hyperboles
Oxymorons and onomatopoeias

We sling Chekhov’s gun like bandits of literacy

We’re visionary revolutionaries
Revolution of the mind, body and soul

Changing ourselves and examining who and what we are
To become what we are destined to be
The best

Rejecting convention
Building our own paths
That lead to cliffhangers

Romantic lust
Comedic affairs
Dark massacres
Spiritual healing

Religious speculation
And the questioning of the way we, the people are being governed

We use the tools we are giving to sculpt new art that the world can stand in awe of

Symbolic imagery

Practicing pastiche with respect
Dionysian imitatio

Surreal reality
Defying mortality

Reiteration and retort

Using nature to express emotion and thought

Doubts and fear

Morals and ethics

Satisfying curiosity

Parodying what we see
Embellishing just a little

We us word play to dive deep into the topic of conscious, subconscious and unconscious thought

Using satire to poke fun at the human condition,  its senses and perception of the universe to get readers thinking

Expressing our anger, our boundless joys
Desiring unknown pleasures

Seeing past the fallacies put before us

We write with great candor about war, personal conflicts, and self-abuse

With hinting undertones to give these ideas a second thought

We write of the supernatural, metaphysical mysteries
Outlandish, obscure mind boggling theories

As the clock ticks too fast for us and the characters we’ve created

Demolishing the fourth wall with a sledge hammer of defamiliarization

Epiphanies in a parking lot
Speaking in the 1st, 2nd or 3rd person

Using fun things like anagrams and palindromes
Candy for the lovers of such things

Spontaneity is an understatement
Nonsense is an insulting overstatement
Absurdity seems to fit just right

We are chameleons
We can write in various forms
Streams of gratifying consciousness
Brilliant prose
Beautiful poetry

And chose to use or merely acknowledge the ways to achieve these forms
Rhetoric, rhythm  and rhyme
Meter and mora
Conceit and consonance
Working with phonaesthetics  

And accenting aesthetics

A poem can or could not be organized as such
If we want to get technical about it

We have a poem
With a number of verses
And in those verses
Are lines
And those lines might rhyme
And have a meter or rhythm
Stressed or unstressed syllables

In contrast to that we may write
Without all of that and use emotion
Feeling and structure our work with what we feel is the best way
Line breaks
Pauses and puns
Silly similes
Ambiguous antonyms  
Intonation, linguistics
Fight against the fascists of grammar and conservative correctness

So, in the end we are writers of a rainbow kaleidoscope forms, devices, ways and ideas

But we alone are the ones who make the world think
Make it move
Look back

Write my friends write until your mind explodes and your fingers bleed

Read, read and become inspired
Even if what you’re reading is bad cheese

Forget getting published it’s the writing that matters
Disregard the off-putting, critical chatter

And if you think no one reads
Than be the seed and sprout a tree of astounding artistry
And let’s begin a new movement composed of ideals that will hold true forever
I might be preaching to the choir but it must be said that poetry; literature isn’t dead
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Look in the mirror
Look at the clock
Look at the time
It never has stopped
It only goes forward
It's a one way walk
See how you have been growing
You ask yourself, "where have the days been going?"
Time can only progress
Yes, the river of life is always flowing

We lived cabins
And castles and caves
We came from Adam and eve
We evolved from apes
From Socrates and Homer
To Napoleon and Alexander the Great
The minds that desired knowing
And the enlightened ones glowing
People can only advance
Yes the river of life is always flowing

Revolutions and rebellions
Riots and revolts
Great discoveries
A key, a kite and a lightning bolt
Great writings and inventions
Innovations from inspiring jolts
Improvement was showing
To the future the world was going
Humanity only began to develop
Yes the river of life is always flowing

Religions and sciences
Economics and politics
Television and radio
Monarchies and dictatorships
Tanks and machine guns
Atomic bombs and battle ships
We went from arrow shooting and spear throwing
The muskets needed reloading
To nuclear weapons
Yes the river of life is always flowing

Exploring new lands
To find the world wasn't flat
To find silver and gold
And buried artifacts
To establish new territories
And expand the map
The searching ship kept rowing
As civilization went on growing
Accomplishments of the past
Yes the river of life is always flowing

Boats and rail roads
Fair trade and industry
World wide markets
Over land and sea
To keep out nations going
And stablize the economy
But now every country has money that they're owing
And the land that they're owning
Is has evolved
Yes the river of life is always flowing

Social reforms
Counter cultures fight
They protest strongly
For equal civil rights
The world's in constant change
Every day turns into night
Every opening has its closing
And then it comes back again
As long as there's someone hoping
Yes the river of life is always flowing

We put people into space
We have fought for equality
Created a world from nothing
And advanced technology
We've struggle to go to where we are
And continue to go strongly
The opportunities fate has been bestowing
We look forward to see what is ahead
The memories and mysteries the hourglass is holding
Yes the river of life is always flowing
9.9k · Feb 2014
My Brown Eyed November
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
The moment for us to say our goodbyes has come
Our eyes will flood then we’ll be on our way
A final farewell to what once belonged to both of us
Times run out but we have plenty of regrets

My brown eyed November
You’ll never know what you were worth to me
Even after the fights, the excruciating frustration

I would walk on broken glass barefoot just to get to you
To be honest there isn’t much I’d do for you
But now I can’t do anything
I gave you everything and you walked away

I know, but you don’t
Have a clue how much damage you’ve done to me
I never told you my secrets
I never told you everything

My brown eyed November
You don’t know how much you meant to me
The moon fall and the sun rise
Shine on our lies

I knew you were treacherous
Yet I still clinged to you hoping maybe it would all change

Let’s end this, I want it
I need to calm down

My brown eyed November
You are truly invaluable
The ocean bathes us the sand dries
Cleansing our lives

You couldn’t care less
My appreciation goes unappreciated
If it isn’t and I am wrong
Please, now is the time to tell me

The karma
Bad karma
The cause of all of this

The memories of you will stay even when you are gone
Mistrust will linger but hope resonates
We’re like summer in the fall, we’re leaving
Mistreating, believing
After all this I don’t want to be your one and only victim
What do you care? You never believed in soul mates or in true love

I can’t stay, even though I want to
You gave false hope and empty promises
Injected me with a tranquilizer and put me in a state of gullibility
Was I dramatic or miserable?
I know you can’t be replaced, why would I want another one like you?
So good bye my brown eyed November
9.7k · Apr 2014
Surreal Reality
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Winnie the Pooh is trying to think
As are Plato and Socrates
While The Little Rascals get rambunctious
And The Marx Brothers cause calamities
Jim Jones stirs the Kool-Aid
And Georgie Porgie makes his move
Bo Peep and Miss Muffett start to blush
Red Ridding hood just swoons
The Muffin Man does a deal
With Johnny Apple seed
These beings and people our real
In our Surreal Reality

******* lets the paint splatter
And Moses parts the sea
Belushi buys an eight-ball
Bruce is on trial for obscenity
Rorschach is on the case
Right behind Sherlock Holmes
John the baptist goes for a swim
Along with Brian Jones
Jack and Jill meet Hansel and Gretel
They're hungry, they're thirsty
These figments of imagination do exist
In our Surreal Reality

Rasputin was so evil
As bad as Captain Hook
Now was it ** Chi Minh or Nixon
Who said "I am not a crook?"
Mao Zedong looked at Stalin
With a shared murderous grin
Booth stormed the Ford theater
And shot President Lincoln
Kennedy and King we're both casualties
Of the process of the deciphering
Of our Surreal  Reality

Zeus said to Aphrodite
"Wow, you look real good tonight"
And Handel says "Hallelujah!"
As the Wright Brothers take flight
Baby Face Nelson
Teams up with Dillinger
Moe, Larry and Curly
Mengele, Mussolini and Adolf ******
Three bears, three little pigs
Along with three blind mice
Sit together, while Maurice Sendack
Cooks them chicken soup with rice
Charlie Bucket had a buy out
Wonka gave up his factory
Fiction or nonfiction it's all a apart
Of our Surreal Reality

Chicken Little tried his best
To warm The Little Red Hen
Of the sly trickster
They call Rumpelstiltskin
Rimbaud applauds Leonidas
And his 300's final stand
Da vinci  paved the way
For both Newton and Edison
Folklore and war heroes
And those with intellectual mentality
Are all just pieces
Of our Surreal Reality

Wee Willie Winkie's scream
Wakes up Rip Van Winkle
But not Sleeping Beauty who's been asleep for thirty years
But has no acquired a single wrinkle
Caligula has lost his mind
And Nero's lost his fiddle
What does Beethoven's hearing aid
Have to do the March Hare's riddle?
Abbie Hoffman fights for civil rights
Thomas Jefferson for democracy
Products of the conceptual
In our Surreal Reality

Berryman writes an ode
To Washington's wooden teeth
Manson speaks of Helter Skelter
Neruda damns the fruit company
Charles Schultz frames the story
And Seuss gives it rhyme
Some where far, far away
Taking place once upon a time
And the villagers all had omelettes
Thanks to clumsy Humpty Dumpty
It's all food for thought
In our Surreal Reality

Santa brings us presents
And Cupid bring us love
But we can never get back
The members of the 27 Club
Warhol makes his movies
And Buddha meditates
Joseph Smith reads the golden plates
Mohammed and Jesus save
Theses figures bring people hope
In life's dualities
Trusting faith
And our Surreal Reality

Han Solo is in carbon freeze
Don Juan's preoccupied
Sinbad sets his sails
Simple Simon didn't get his pie
Caesar looked at Brutus
Brutus looked at Saddam Hussein
Hussein looked at L. Ron Hubbard
Who prayed to Eloheim  
Dionysus can out drink us all
We cringe at Achilles fatality  
As Ra soars through the skies
Of our Surreal Reality

Aristotle says to Shakespeare
"Well Billy you old bard"
Frodo trades the ring of power
To Fidel Castro for a Babe Ruth Baseball card
Biggie and Tupac write their lyrics on paper
Ted Bundy is put in jail
They're making another skyscraper
For King Kong to scale
Hemingway is too far gone
Kant's take on morality
Einstein says it's all relative
In our Surreal Reality

Churchill said victory
John Lennon said peace
Judas gave back the silver
Then hung himself in a tree
Tojo and Kim Jong-il
Wanna be as cool as Brando and Dean
George Carlin warned us all
Now Hermes leaves the scene
So do the butcher, the baker and the candle stick maker
Followed by Old King Cole and his Fiddlers Three
As they make their way to find
A sense or Surreal Reality

Odysseus pines for Ithaca
Paul Bunyan chops the trees
The Jersey Devil has not been found
Noah herds the animals by twos not threes
Anubis wraps the mummies
And Augustus leads Rome
Bugs Bunny laughs with Pryor
All at the expense of Job
So what can we all make of this
Is this all actuality?
Symbolism or nonsense?
Realistic Surrealism or Surreal Realty?
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
You live with eyes closed
Walk with an arrogant stride
You keep your hands clean
And your nose held high
There's a whole world screaming
But you just walk on by
And ignore the world's trouble
The burdens it bares
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

There's racism
And sexism all over the globe
Poverty, human trafficking
And still your shoulder is cold
Drug cartels, corrupt politicians
Murderous rapists without any souls
And you're just as guilty if I may be so bold
You just sit there and stare
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You're busy chasing the American dream
A glorious promise riches and liberty
But the hand that feeds and you wanna shake is giving the bird to you
While it taxes our rights and confiscates our freedom of speech
And you take it like a ******* gimp
As it keeps our inspiration and aspirations out of reach
You should stand up and fight for what's yours
And I urge you to grow a pair
Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You have faith in the higher-ups
In our country, in God we trust
It's all a bust
You must protect your privileges
And help in our progression
Equality for and freedom
But you chose instead to be ignorant
And see a society and not a civilization

       -Tommy Johnson
Get a higher education
Go to school
Get a degree in something
No, don't be a fool
Milk the cash cow
Be a work mule
To find a job even with your doctorate
To find employment, is something rare

       -Tommy Johnson

But you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

Terrorists instill a sense of fear
So we police the world
Oppress and occupy
Bullets, bloodshed and grenades are hurled
And back home we outsource
As history unfurls
A time of economic recession
And unjust warfare

And of course you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

They tricked, murdered and ***** the natives
For all this land
You can say "you wouldn't be here if they didn't"
Well, I feel guilty for living here because they betrayed their fellow man
Then they had those of darker skin as slaves
The decision to free them caused both sides to **** each other
And in the end the chose to segregate
Tell me the equality in that there

Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

People call each other *******,
*******, spics, chinks they say
A world that loves you if you got social status
But chastise you if your gay
But it's gotten so much better
Looking back on yesterday
But you haven't helped, you just go along
You're views are still parochial, and I'm giving you a disgruntled glare

Because you dare not interfere
You ignore it because you're scared
It isn't your problem so you don't care

You see no beauty in this world
It's like your not even a part of it
You have no idea whats going on around you
You only look out for yourself
You contribute nothing
No ideas
No creations
No light

You just leave the rest of us in darkness
To be destroyed by corruption, hatred, misunderstanding and doubt
While you become just another pawn
Another cog
Another customer
To be accounted for
You are just nameless number
People like you are the reason change takes so long
Open your eyes!
5.8k · Feb 2014
Aesthetic Artisans
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
Blasting out of the fog and mud
Past the forests in the sunrise
Farms and high ways
Trotting through suburbia
Through the tunnel
Defacing and refusing to allow themselves to be part of an unjust ******
Believe in the intermingling of colors
Waiting for the planets to fall into place
To stop for a moment and inhale the abundant harmony that surrounds them and emote and create a inspiring response in the form of self expressive freedom that matches the beauty that had compelled them
5.3k · Dec 2013
Deep Thought At 7 AM
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Take a good look into the mirror
Take a dive into your inner-self
Then gaze at the world around you
A chance to make yourself just that much better
5.2k · Jan 2015
Goddess of the Golden Spark
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
Please Goddess of the Golden Spark
I'm lost and have no idea where to start
Please Goddess of the Golden Spark
This is why I pray to you

The coffee is ice cold
My father is getting old
The walls are growing mold
And my beer is warm and going flat

I'm suffering from a headache
I feel so out of place
Self-conscious of my pace
But I feel I should ignore all that

Yes Goddess of the Golden Spark
My light for when it's dark
Yes Goddess of the Golden Spark
My maxim that always gets me through

Light up your torch and lead the way
Forget tomorrow and live for today
Disregard what the peanut galleries say
For they're incapable of understanding  what you're doing

Do anything and everything, be inspired
Work until you perspire
And reach your deep desires
A task you won't retire even if you've reach your goal

No Goddess of the Golden Spark
The Coyote howls it doesn't bark
I won't neglect, I'll do my part
Opportunities endless, mistakes I know there will be a few

So yes, I know the world is infinite
The sun will shine and the moon will rise
That yesterday is gone and tomorrow has yet to exist
Then we are to discover the unknown

Oh Goddess of the Golden Spark
May today be marked
Oh Goddess of the Golden Spark
Though these times may seem stark
I now embark of my travels
A crusade to find land and sea of new
4.9k · Mar 2014
Lion Strike
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
Lion strike
Lion strike
Laying low
A herd of antelope

Lion strike
Lion strike
Standing still
Staring down the next ****

Lion strike
Lion strike
Hurry, pounce
Abrupt jounce

Lion strike
Lion strike
Hunger subsides
And you survive
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
The rumbling motorcycle pulled in
The Cowboy entered the luncheonette
And Doctor Boss was sitting there waiting
They licked their lips, shook hands and that was it
This is the Legend of The Cowboy and Doctor Boss
Two stones untouched by complacent moss
Together they made a deal
His satin suit and His Cuban heeled boots
This is how it began

Doctor Boss was a respected physician
Shaved, shampooed and conditioned
Wore a stethoscope, had tongue depressors in jars
The Doctor had a gold tooth and fancy cars
But he was crooked as the day was long
Had no regards for right and wrong
Just as long as he was making a buck
He had connections to the cartel down in Mexico
And they lined his pockets with rising dough

Back in 1955 he was peddling dope in med school
Made the junkies line up and the women drool
Until he was challenged to a switchblade duel
Got his right ring finger sliced off and throw into a pool
He turned around and killed that man
Slashed him in the face and punctured his gut
He packed his trunk and headed north and ran
Darted toward the Jersey Horizon
On the way he picked up gun and a phony medical license

You would think a ****** would weigh on a man’s conscience
But not the Doc his mind was on motel options
He got a room and went to a local hole in the wall
A smoky, run down biker bar
“Dewar’s and water” said a pretty little thing
Boss looked at her, downed his drink and suffered whiskey sting
“Hey there beautiful, what’s your name?” “Lillian” she said
“What’s yours?” “Well, Lillian that’s not important but I’ll tell you what is”
“I got a motel room all to myself and I need some company”

Paper thin walls and a moaning women
The mattress squeaks as the vacancy signs flashing
The next morning Lillian awoke
Just to see The Boss had hit the road
She got dressed and went on her way
The motel bill remained unpaid
She wished he would have stayed awhile
But he was miles away by then
And starting a new life
This was the origin of Doctor boss
Wayward bound and identity lost
How a boy became a man
From check ups to drug trafficking now
This is how it all began

Now The Cowboy thought life was a game
A wild child that wouldn’t be tamed
He lived his life against the grain
Behind his aviators was repressed pain
He never knew his dear old dad
And his mother, run over by a drunken cab
Broken home launching pad
The kid went mad and hopped on his bike
He began his quest to quench his thirst for an exciting life

He raced and robbed from Cali to Michigan
He broke every law from Dallas to Vermont and back again
Until the day when he wasn’t fast enough
They tackled him down and put him in cuffs
He was charged and sentenced to five years in Cook County
An extensive criminal record by the age of twenty
But as soon as he was behind bars he busted out before anyone knew
Off to continue his life of debauchery
Of freedom and existential ecstasy

He was an escaped convict with a bounty on his head
The warden of Cook County didn’t want him alive but dead
But The Cowboy went on his merry way, making deals and getting laid
Getting ******, kicking *** and taking names
He was just looking for a good time
He was searching for a new trail to ride
All he wanted to do was live
Do everything in the world there was to do
To him every day brought something new

On a faithful day, The Cowboy came to Hacketts
The city where Doctor Boss opened up his practice
The tired traveler went to go get drunk
Over in the corner of the bar he was slumped
The Doc strolled in and everyone paid their respects
But there was something The Cowboy didn’t get
“Why are they kissing the ring of this nine fingered quack?”
He pulled out a knife on The Doc and a bottle went smash!
Over the poor Cowboy’s head and he blacked out

“Now, son I know that’s not how you say hello”
“And you seem to be a nice young fellow”
“So how bout I cut you a break”
“And we’ll go over to my office and I’ll clean up these scrapes”
The Cowboy agreed and got to his feet
They walked to Boss’s office just down the street
And The Doc sewed up his head
“Say, boy where you from I never seen you around here”
“It doesn’t matter you three piece suite wearing queer”

Doctor Boss chucked then pushed The Cowboy down by the throat
Pulled out his gun ,“I can **** you now but I won’t”
“No, you’re gonna do me a favor you little ****”
The Cowboy couldn’t breathe but Boss wouldn’t quit
“I got a package that needs to go to Georgia”
“If you take it there , they’ll be four grand waiting here for ya”
Now how could The Cowboy resist such an adventure?
Not to mention the grip Doctor Boss had on his Adam’s apple
He let him go and began to cackle

“Now around here, I run things”
“I’m free to do as I please”
The Cowboy was amazed at this man, he was right
He owned a gun and  got involved in a bar fight
Could this man be in the mob?
“Boy, you can call me Doctor Boss”
“Well Doc, they call me The Cowboy”
“So tell me, where am I going?

Doc Boss loaded up The Cowboy’s bike
With Mexican white powdered dynamite
“Now that’s four kilos, you got there”
“You get the money and bring it back here”
“You got it Boss, I’ll be back by Tuesday night”
And off went The Cowboy out of sight
The Doc new he could trust him
He had that look in his eye the he did those years ago
The one when you yearn to search for the unknown

This was the origin of The Cowboy and Doctor Boss
They paid no attention to consequence or cost
They saw themselves in each other
Just trying to reach one height after another
Cowboy respected a man so free
And Boss saw his prodigy
Together they became filthy rich
They shook hands and that was it
4.3k · Mar 2015
Rebellious Youth
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!
4.2k · Mar 2015
Brain Drain
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
3.8k · Sep 2014
Tommy Johnson Sep 2014
He's found himself in the closet
After he lost to himself in a game of tic-tac-toe
And tied his lobster bib tightly
Then hid his cheat sheet, for the pop quiz he knew was soon to come

It's curtains for her
She let the cat out of the bag
And now she's up **** creek with ****** for paddles to go **** herself with
Right in the birth canal

Then we'll auction off the ******
We'll pass them off as European defibrillators
Maybe some extremist will want them
If we spew out enough mindless dribble

The All Time ****-Show is about to begin
We have
The Chronic Masturbater
The Hypochondriac
And The Pathological Liar

It was either sometime yesterday
Or sometime tomorrow
Or was it sometime today?
That you were all going to make fun of the boy with the cleft lip down at the laundromat?

Out of the three of you The Pathological Lair sticks out like a sore thumb
I can tell he was the runt of the litter
Who always bites off more than he can chew

I see the Hypochondriac has convinced himself he has eczema  
He rattles off all his symptoms
Inordinate filibustering  

Now there's the Chronic Masturbater
He looks like he's over the hill
He's only twenty one
But the blue circles under his eyes and the deep defined lines on his forehead denote his inelegant aging

I sign all your lives away in my horrible cursive
And now you belong to the ragtag trigger-happy posse of gun-jumpers
My billfold his happily filled
So I must go do some reconnaissance
Spy on those who have quit their day jobs
The fish out of water

You must find that thing that really rolls off the tongue with a nice ring to it

Go hang youself with dental flossed you home-schooled fool

Indentured servants we're just an after thought
3.6k · Mar 2014
Quincy Valero
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
Quincy Valero
Everybody’s best friend
Jet black hair
Shiny brown eyes
A boyish smirk
Standing six foot something
Coming out of catholic school agnostic
Attending state college

Every word that came out of his mouth was a riot
A funny story of a bad situation he was in that he can laugh at now
An awkward moment with a girl he tried to get in bed
God awful train rides with a clueless conductor

Quincy Valero
A wanna-be Casanova
The irish-italian self-proclaimed “Don Juan of Dumont”
Roaring down the suburb streets in his bright yellow mustang
From Bergen county to Trenton
Edgewater to Ewing
Bumping R&B; from the 90's

A main girl
A side chick
And a few back pocket broads
Leading them on
To where?
I’m not even sure he knows

Quincy Valero
My best friend since I’ve been here in Purgatory
My lifelong cellmate
My hetero life mate
My brother of second thought
Our token white boy

He’s had his ups
Wild ragers until day break
A four way with me and two girls in my four door sedan
He’s had is downs
Falsely charged with domestic abuse
Community service, endless court room hearings, suspensions and a whole bunch of nonsense

Quincy Valero
The quintessential example of the modern day male
Stays up all night
Sleeps all day
And hungry

Always aching to put in his two cents
And leaving everyone in a howl of laughter
An Adderall popping
Seasoned drinker
A professional *** smoker, coached by yours truly
Fast talking baritone voice
With a half serious tone

Yes, Quincy Valero
The tight plain white t-shirt wearing
Chino sporting
Nostalgic, slightly racist, sexist, anti-semitic
Bust usually honest, friendly and apologetic
Good hearted dude we all love to hate
And hate to love

Pajama bottom ***
Talking about his Svedka regrets
And we laugh and laugh and the stupidest things
Then remember events that seem so long ago
And then make plans for tomorrow
Yeah, one of my best friends
My oldest friend
That’s Mr. Quincy Valero
3.4k · Sep 2014
Fatalistic Liaison
Tommy Johnson Sep 2014
The Nail-biter saw her as his saving grace from a life of lonesome worry
She saw him as a meal ticket and a free ride
He over looked her granny ash
He disregarded her speech impediment
Always holding his tongue when she stumbled on certain words because he loved her and all her imperfections
She had a bullet proof black hole heart and his common sense was stuck in a sound proof cell as they had what seemed to him to be, passionate ***
He worked day and night, coming home with dishpan hands
Saving up to buy her a bouquet of hydrangeas, tulips and baby's breath
She took them and said, "Wow, thank you you're such a good friend"
The Nail-biter left and drove his car into the nearest embankment
She did not attended the funeral, she was too busy having dinner with The man with OCD who didn't have tics but tocks
She knew the routine and loved every second of it
3.3k · Dec 2013
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Look at yourself
All *****
Blackened with a sour demeanor
Rip the top off

Take a look inside
An endless carousel
See the stars
And be thrown to the next page

Never to come back again
The stories for the next chapter
Clenching to previous excursions
Remnants, recollections of once new beginnings

Once you start you can’t stop
Can't turn and have second thoughts
Once you’re out
You’re gone

Falling to pieces
Smoking, dangling
A mental spasm
A lapse, relapse

Push them away
They speak too loud and bright
A half baked scheme
It’s something to pass the time

Hedges of red
Busted fence posts
Punctured shell

To the roots
Vibrations to my brain
Purple furlough
Roofs fall

Pedal till they bleed
Bleed dry to the bone
Till the bone breaks
And the pain grapples me into submission

We ignore the fruits in front
Of us for the mirages
We pretend are real
Putting In hope and taking out lies

Riding the ignorant air of pride

Crawl in desperation to continue

It wouldn’t lie
Stick to the plan
Raise the voice
So they hear and believe

We won’t stop till it’s found
They won’t stop till I’m in the ground
Buried, out to pasture
Fresh fertilizer here

I hear his deceit meshed
Deeply in his voice

Yet I fool myself to
Believe due to my denial of doubts

It won’t let me continue
Smile for no reason

When I think about it
Disorientation follows

Don’t utter another word
The grass is dead on both sides
So let’s make them equally green
Plant the seed
Pack a lunch
As we walk, we remember
The lesson we were taught to never
Tread here
3.3k · Apr 2014
Rant And Rave
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Hey man
You looking for a boost?
Some bud? Molly? *****?
I gotch you
Let's be out

Let's look forward, shifting eyes
Thick blunts, welcome to The Court of Miracles
Where no ones ever dry and everyone's good

The whole place was flooded with music
Pounding, pulsing, entrancing
thump thump thump thump
Laser lights flashing neon colors
Multicolored creatures of night dancing to the whimsical noise

The DJ was young
Attentive to his machine that dispensed exuberant sensate explosions
Rocking back and forth, flipping switches, turning knobs
We are, we can, we will live forever
Then it all went silent and the whole place shot out with a feeling of anticipation
The bass caused everyone of us to vibrate and pick up the vibrations of one another

Hey bro
Take this
Nerves become fervent

Now meet my other friend
Mind is widened
Now you're candy flipping
Hippy tripping

We met a girl
Her dad was a record producer
She was way out there
She was out of her head

We met an artist
He used different types of wood
And carved shapes and patterns in to them
Then painted it with acrylics
Then smashed it with a sledge hammer

People bought it
He was brilliant
He was ******
I was dazzled

She tasted like *****
He tastes like cigarettes
***** devils
Looking for a time

I saw veterans from Iraq letting loose
Thank you
A sea of sweaty smiles going for miles
Under a baroque moon

Sleeveless shirts
Minuscule skirts
Beads, glow sticks

Under one universe
Dedicated to this single moment
And what it means to us
One mind
For equal freedom
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground

I look at the hieroglyphics on the wall
It’s an epic story oh I’ve seen it all
This place was taken by industry
Powered by fame and the illusion of money

They perverted the artist’s proud, heartfelt ways
Forced the true artists out for the ones who stayed
They create things that sound the same to us
Dropped their talent sold their souls to business

Lost their land to a cult of executives
So now they put out songs without messages
There puppets without any ideals
But it’s amazing for album sales

They were tempted by the glorious pop charts
Every follower goes by the formula
Produce garbage without connection
With no real emotion or expression

Their distorted auto tuned emptiness
All to be on TV and in magazines
Want exposure to be recognized
Their careers won’t fade they were never alive

This place *****, robbed lied to n even forgotten
The ones who stayed chained to the corporation
Not for the sake of art but for the money
Lack of feeling and effort plain to see

The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground

Can’t understand what their saying
Fan base is alienated
Rather be an icon than a star
The space between performer and audience grows more and more

So the true artists have left n disappeared
They’ve been out of sight for many many years
There somewhere where you don’t need to be in style
Might not find them at the left of the dial

No they don’t care about TV or radio
They just want to make something with all their soul
They are all now opposed to the fame
Crossing their fingers it won’t be the next craze

But today we still have the artifacts
Amazing and impressive sounds of the past
Better than the sell outs we all know
Talent, determination, originality flow

The slaves of their passion built this pyramid
But now there’s no sign of civilization
But ancient artifact have been found
The great migration to the underground

Someone poisoned the main stream
So now it’s the same to me
Did I read the hieroglyphics wrong I don’t know?
But it was the rise, fall and return of rock n roll
3.0k · Dec 2013
Life Time Fantasy Girl
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Well she always keeps clean
And she’s up to date
And she never seems
To ever fake

She don’t take time to worry about the world

My life time fantasy girl
My lifetime fantasy girl

She can spot a liar
She’s a lady of faith
She can see for miles
Doesn’t have time to wait

She makes all my neck hairs curl

She’s my life time fantasy girl
My lifetime fantasy girl yeah

She’s my life time fantasy girl
She’s my life time fantasy girl
Life time fantasy girl
She’s my life time fantasy girl
2.9k · Dec 2013
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Take your pills, open wide
Swallow it with your pride
It’s a cure, overdose
Keep your head down and your mouth closed

We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know

You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Update status
Pop a Xanax
There was texting
Now we’re setxing

We have the gall to have a sense
Of undeserved entitlement
We’re over educated and unemployed
Apathetic and annoyed

We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know

You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Pictures reblogged
Arteries clogged
Kandi kids
Digital natives

Anxiety, can’t concentrate
As obesity permeates
What will happen? Time will tell
And remind us of Y2K and when the towers fell

We’re so
We know
We’re shallow
I know

You can call it narcissism
You can blame it on materialism
Our delusions, indecision
Children of the Great Recession
Lets the bass drop
Generation lost
It’s hard to live
When you’re hypersensitive
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Can you stand there looking on
As the innocent die?
Will you speak up for your own good
And for the sake of a life?
The guilt may not belong to them
An execution unjustified
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is it time to pull the plug
On someone who still breathes?
Who can decided when it's time
For them to be at peace?
Is it to act on their behalf
Or to act selfishly?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is the exact moment when
A fetus is considered alive?
Is it merciful to abort it when
You know it won't survive?
Was it carelessness or misfortune
That has brought you here to decide?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

Are we not all humans who may want companionship
And might be willing to take that sacred vow?
Then why are those who found it in the same gender
Told their love is not allowed?
Who is to say that it is wrong?
Isn't love what it's all about?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

Where does it say that you can't have ***
Unless you are married?
It is your own choice and we must respect
The beliefs that each of us carries
For we have our own  reasons
And circumstances varies
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

When is it right to start a war
And fight with bullets and bombs?
Religious scuffles and political disputes
About who was right and who was wrong
Does the world need more bloodshed
Or has it gone on for too long?
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you

I ask you these things to make you think
So we can find an answer hopefully
These are issues we as one world must face
And though we may not all agree
We must try to communicate
If we ever want peace universally
The only thing to do
Is pursue the truth
And make sense of what's in front of you
2.5k · Jan 2015
I'm Bad At Math
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
Nothing is absolute
And there are countless variables thrown into the mix
Do your best to simplify
Search for those high exponents to bring your base to a better place
No need for negativity
Times can get adverse and even inverse
But you must remain in power as an integer
There is no substitute for you
Distribute some of your positiveness
To all groupings of coefficients
And their properties
You have yet to reach your prime, but you will
2.4k · Mar 2014
Sudden Spurts of Wanderlust
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
This is turning out to be a sundry thing
Oddball bowties and impurities
Fruits of our labor no, vegetables of lethargy

We are always one of a kind
Listen to our veracious lies
Once in a blue we let them out

Nobody can know, everybody will know our name
Why do I always feel bad? I know I shouldn’t feel bad
I should be grateful for the rain

It’s all upside down, but I’ll be fine
I’ll take my time, I can find a way someday
It’s all right side up, I’ve had enough
Life is rough, what can I say?

Is it weird to desire change?
The sudden urge to rearrange
To color outside the laid down lines

I’m not saying to start all over
Or to tear down and build a new
I just need something different to do

Nothing to run from, there’s nothing to run from here
I must of imagined, guess I just imagined
Apologies my darling dear

We’re all glistening, with our sweat
Let’s make a bet, the stakes are set, soaring
They’re all listening, but you’re not yet
You’re in my bed, snoring

The world will always spin, so just tell me where and when
Play it cool and lay low, give me the coordinates then we’ll go
2.4k · Jun 2014
Unnamed Bologna
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
Let 'em hear ya in the cheap seats
In the nosebleeds

Trashed and thrashed
The stove heats up the whole house

The beauty pageant is being judged by those who have been bribed and the biased

There's no room at the inn
To the barn, I guess

Ring in the morning
As today's hectic schedule chimes in

The chimney sweep preforms rhinoplasty on a bobcat
And sends windup toys to Goodwill

I christen thee, Backwards!
Here, take this seven leaf clover for good luck
2.4k · Dec 2013
Ten Shillings and Six Pence
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Lectures by the river side
My my, my poor unfocused mind
Lost in the summer sun
Why, why do you run

Falling falling
Dynamic falling but into what and where

Too big to small
It’s locked
Flood the door

Weather the storm
3 seagulls
And ones extinct
Yelping from the ocean floor

Nautical and aviated creatures
Spinning, singing
Joining the jig
Go by the prophecy

Getting drowned
Getting dry
The rodent
Is out of time
The twins

honking paradox
stories missing their plots
lungs give out
as you give in

how do you do
that’s manners
pudding, pudding
who’s got the pudding?

tales of greed and trade
tales of gluttony and shame
fabrications of a hard days work
cabbages and kings

take a walk
we’ll share a talk
follow follow
into the dark

a loaf of bread
to bide his time
while I devour
you are mine
weep for you
oh I could sing
broken promises
of cabbages and kings

oh Mary Ann
she isn’t home
but she would be
but she can't

the gloves are lost
as she grows large
cant believe shes back again

the lizard
slithers down the chimney
shrieks in fear of her size

smoke the monster out
toast the *******
spark the fuse
so misunderstood

back to small
it still comes
the flower bed
over run

roses daises daffodils
an astonishing scheme of bright colors

tulips joining the 4 part harmony
in the golden afternoon
music to my ears
growing dying seconds and years

morning glories and butterflies
taking up my time
but I don’t mind
ill sit and smile

no pedals
no stem
no seeds
I’m a common ****

sit and relax
vowels and syntax
Smokey interrogation
caterpillars transformation

I see what grace meant
Looking back on it again

I’m three inches high
Now goodbye

One bight can only take you so far
The consumption
Of a mushroom
And its spores

Now that’s right
But what is left
No where to go
But some where to get…to

Striped and smiling feline
Seems like he’s hiding something
Knows something
I don’t

Points me in all directions
For no way is bad
But every which way
Is surely mad

364 days that aren’t mine
But I"ll cherish them like they are
But why
Because I can

A loon, a hare and a rat
Teapots and party hats

Blowing the candles out
Making your wish come true
Feed your head it’s the thing to do

I never got to sip my tea
What a pity
Speak in riddles
Tease in rhymes

A few tears here
A realization there
Do I ignore
Or continue to care
The roses are faux
So that she wont know
Oh the color red
Spilled blood of the dead

A place where they hail a crown
A place where heads roll around
A nonsensical monarchy
In a vast world of anarchy

Of with my head
Put me on trial
So ill be dead
In awhile, good

Wake up
Wake up
Nothing but a dream
Yes yes but what could it mean

Day dream of silliness
A place where somethings amiss
I dare not go back again
Gaze through the looking glass
To see the wonderland
2.3k · Dec 2013
The Coyote’s Memorandum
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Now morning comes with her brilliant glow
Today, we shall go back to the time I was orphaned
I’m finally prepared to come to terms with my origins

One afternoon he found himself in an abandoned car
With an unfamiliar beast snoring in the backseat
Blood dripped from its yellow hide
Every home repeats a cycle
Endless circle
The is cage locked until show time
Now rest, rest
Carpet stains, cracks in the windows
Sweep the dust under the carpets
Many affairs stick on these sheets
Virginities lost in the comforter

Starving untamed animals prowling the sidewalks, breathing heavy
A monster chained to the lies of the town
The tragic fate of his father
Decaying on the winter’s avenue
He ran out of the city

       -Tommy Johnson

He headed north across state lines
Leaving destruction and annihilation behind
No second thoughts in his mind

Hurry out the door run
Temptation’s on her way
I cannot survive this, every time she moves in closer
I allow my wall to come down
Feel the cold fear on the back of my neck
The howl of the coyote in the distance

The coyote was jet black
Frizzed and hungry
And I was too frightened to even look
The blankets were steaming locks
And my love was underneath me
So beautiful my love
Her eclipsing black eyes
Her soft, sweet tasting lips

We are all here
The values and morals we all held dear are now gone

What’s your pleasure, what’s your pain?
Are you clever, are you sane
You don’t know and now it seems
That your soul cannot be tamed
The taste of fame, this is new
Now you thrive, now you lose
Now you fear the rule of two
Just play your role and make it through

Stare deep in the universal mind
The answers to ancient riddles you shall find
The sun burns endlessly on the city
Above and beyond its limits
And the green pastures beside the calmly flowing rivers
Underneath the silent other worldly shadows of
Weary mountain men, on the cliff just over there
Wild dogs congregating
Hieroglyphics, fallout shelters, new advancements in self awareness
Hold on
The dead still linger here
Don’t pause or make one false move
My suitcase and briefcase are on the floor
We’re heading for the door
And we’re leaving now
And I guess you’re coming with me

She can’t lift the curse
I am not the one
There are a certain few who can
No one

Fighting for their lives
Crowd is screaming "die"
Savages and thieves
Bringing victims to their knees
The innocent come but never leave
Some one

Come with me
Just trust me
Some one

We hid from the swarm of nonsense and swill
The rich hide in their mansions in fear
The dead are rotting and no one cares
And we’re just lucky to be left alive

Come to me
Trust in me
Some one

His time was cut short because he crossed the line
We should have seen it, he said he was fine
The three spoke steering wheel he was behind
Enraged and drunk out of his mind

Come with me
Just with me
Some one

There are people who live their lives without faith
Now a priest is on trial and charged with ****
By some one who thought he was somebody they had known
Then and there the answer was shown

Talk with me
Look at me
Some one

I will make you mine

It was the blackened coyote
It's chaotic tranquility

We came home from
Laconia and Meredith
El Passo disillusioned
We hurried home
Past the lakes and the roads
We returned home with
Our tales so tall
For ten years I tried
To live on the island of Elba
The mind games I played there
Now I have returned
To the place of freedom, bravery and wisdom
Mother, father of the west
Infant moonlight
Which of you shall partake in this commemoration?
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
I remember it well
As if it were yesterday
We geared up and set sail
And embarked upon unfamiliar waves

It was I captaining the vessel
With One-eyed Sven my quarter master
He could cut throats and roll pretzels
His weapon of choice was his bow caster

This wasn't a mission of plundering
That alone left the crew in a state of wondering
No, we weren't looking for buried treasure
But for sheep skin seat covers and Scandinavian leather

My first mate Mr. Obanion said to me
"Captain are we off course?"
Then my boatswain , Wiley asked sheepishly
"Aren't we going for *** and ******?"

I looked them in the eye at the same time
"Gentlemen, this ship is headed to Dublin"
"We're going to see a good friend of mine"
"Now get back to your swabbing and scrubbing"

This was an order of business not some sort of cruise
I'm sailing with a ship of one track minded fools
We didn't set out on a vacation of leisure
Were on the hunt for sheep skin seat covers and Scandinavian leather

I did not mean to keep them in the dark
But they would think less of me
I needed these things
For the women I married

You see we'd been on the rocks
And I know she wanted these items
So I went over the sea with a fine tooth comb
Until I had finally found them

My men had sailed endlessly for months
They were worn down and ragged
Waterlogged and exhausted
While I always came up empty handed

But I had to save my marriage
Salvage my relationship
I knew it would work
If I gave my love these gifts

We reached the golden, calling shore
Of the beautiful Dublin
From the River Liffey and headed north
My friend Seamus let me come in

I came out shaking his hand
I was satisfied with my purchase
Until I was questioned by my men
What it was we came for in our searches

I had to show them, I was under scrutiny
I pulled out two stagecoach seat covers and a pair of pants
They were enraged and called mutiny
They blindfolded me and bound my hands

Now I'm marooned on some unmapped island
And I see my ship riding that horizon
This will sadden my wife, oh how it will upset her
She will never receive her sheep skin seat covers or her Scandinavian leather
2.3k · Apr 2014
Me In A Nutshell
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
I'm a human of the contemporary times
A millennial, part of Generation Y
A digital native in shrink wrap
An open minded, wide eyed, big mouthed wind tunnel

A genetic, mathematical, anatomic error
I'm souped up and decked out
I'm high maintenance with low standards
My humor is low brow, my expectations are nonexistent
I see the negatives as positive
I see the positives as negative
I think in subjective and objectives
I'm on the web
But off the grid

My pockets full
But my wallets empty

I'm over educated
But underemployed
I'm overworked
But under paid

I'm a bisexual, bipolar by product of society
I'm a hardworking, dedicated procrastinator
I'm an inarticulate fat head who isn't afraid to speak his mind
I'm a cold hearted hothead
I can hear, some times I don't listen
I'm clean and polished to get my hands *****
I work my fingers to the bone
Then cross them in hope of better tomorrow
And knock on wood until my knuckles bleed

You can check my Facebook profile
Read my Tweets
Scroll through my Instagram
Send me a Snapchat
And you can kiss my ***
I'm non-toxic
I'm irreplaceable
I'm a rarity
I'm an oddity
I'm offbeat
Off centered
Off color
Off kilter
Out of tune
Out of my mind
And universally unacceptable

I'm wasting time
And taking up space
But I'm living it up
I won't die down
I'm two steps ahead
I'm left behind
Coasting on thin ice
Walking the edge
Pushing the limit
And taking a nap
I'm greedy
I'm *****
I'm lazy
I'm angry
I'm cocky
I'm envious
And I'm
Not sorry

I like laying low
I love being high
I don't want to be a stick in the mud so I get ******
I'm a street smart *******
I'm book smart dumb ****
I'm an eloquent gutter mouth
I speak in
****** vernacular
Passionate profanity
Cynical sarcasm
And choleric curses
I have criminal ties
And it suites me
I'm a ball hogging, showboating team player
I'm a devoted alcoholic
I'm a thrifty shopaholic
I'm in school
But out to lunch

I've got friends
I've got enemies
I've got my family
And I've got problems
I hear voices in my head
I see things that aren't there
I over look
Over analyze
And over think
I under cook
Under appreciate
And underestimate

I use my WiFi to listen to LoFi
I watch low quality television in Hi Def
I'm a bombastic contentious objector
Taken aback but forwardly thinking
In your face
Out of stock
I get down
And get it up
I'm a low key middle man
But lovable
A grounded skyrocket
An everlasting
Know nothing
Know it all
I'm a egg-headed basket case
I'm a real heel
A loafer
I got the boot
Because he couldn't afford to live in a shoe
Or the box it came in
I'm broke
I'm busted
But I loved
I care
I help
I laugh
I try
I cry

I'm on the short bus for the long haul
I have no money but I always got my two cents
I'm good with secrets
I'm bad with numbers
And good with money
I'm bad with people
But yet they love me
I'm unbiased
And impatient
I'm abstract
I'm avant garde
I like violent ***
With volatile love
I like pornographic snapshots
******* ******* motion pictures
Live action lust
But nothing beats my meat like the real thing

I shop at second rate super markets
First rate second hand stores
I'm on cruise control in the fast lane
I'm double parked
I've been traumatized
And I've had my toes stepped on

I was a premeditated mistake
A failed abhorrent abortion
And always medicated
I have a an attention span an inch wide
But, I'm real
I'm honest
I'm kind
I go hard
But  take it easy
I'm always slick
But never ******

Wheeling and dealing
Clipping and stealing
Lending and giving
Living and breathing

I think this one's a keeper
You've all dug me a little deeper
Hope you enjoyed my veracity
Because this poem is completely me
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013

A beam of swirling light in the heart of the city
As families flee for their lives
Lightning, fire and explosions
Cars being flipped, debris everywhere
Lives taken just to be taken
Evil has consumed the city
And its flame seems ever burning


A shock to the corrupted nerves of the city
Goodness and virtue battle the tyranny
But are put in the ground
Left in the rain and forgotten
Why must there be good and evil?
It only causes pain
The division, the knowledge, the temptation and the fear

Holy rain fall on me
On these skid marked streets and grow a rose
Red as the blood we all hold
Push my whispered wishes toward your ear
They're full of desperation and curiosity
I trade you the morals, my honor and all I hold true
For all of this evil to be drained from my home
For without the darkness there’s is no need for light
And the ever spirit can rest and the world can flow as intended
So fly high red rose
Gather energy from the land and sea
Chant the sacred words and flush this place

Flashing implosion of energy silence the streets

The sun in the eyes of the saved
The children can sing once more
And we can all be as innocent as the children
May the sun forever shine

Guilt free and enlightened they give thanks
Their lives renewed and cleared
Praise the rain drop, praise the rose it has cultivated
Hold it high, in the highest power

They give their lives for the flower
The live their lives for the flower
They only know it to be the truth
For security they go to the perennial plant
But now their freedom belongs to it, instead of their own fears and temptations
Freedom taken
Dreams broken
All hope gone
The flower promised to delete all evil
But the flower itself is wicked
Draining lives and giving false hope to those in dread of the world and themselves
Ignorance is all I see
The love of being able to create something and understand it
The hate of being unable to destroy everything you don’t understand
Cry life!
Look at today you’ll soon know
With out the darkness we wouldn't need light to see
Without the light there would be no darkness to hide what must be seen
Without both there is nothing to see
The universe over my head
I see Life grows, flows and goes
Good or bad it pushes through
The pre-approved righteousness should not be your guiding light
Neither should hand-me-down precedents of malevolence  
You yourself must chose your own path for it is your choice and yours alone
And that is what life is about
The choices we make cause the earth to spin and balance perfectly
Do not let anyone or anything dictate your life or the decisions you make
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
I forgot my sunglasses
I left them on the window pane
Left them far behind
I’ll never see them again

Now the sun will surely blind me
It’ll take away my sight
In day light I can’t see
Visions only good at night

I forgot my dignity
I lost it a long time ago
Please don’t pity me
Not at my all time low


I want to let go
Hold on, hold on to me
I want you all to know
What’s wrong
What’s wrong with me
2.2k · Mar 2014
Double Edged Sword
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
Double edged sword
You gave them your word
Not a necessity
But a possessive desire
Got burnt by the fire
But it felt so good

Doing new things you’ve never done before
Inhibitions released and spirits soar
New trails being blazed and opened doors
Then the question come up, what you really here for?

When they’re happy it’s because they love you
When they’re ***** it’s because they wanna *******
When they’re mad all they wanna do is diss you
And when they’re sorry it’s because you got a shoulder to cry on and sympathetic tissues

And the situations can be reciprocal
As you put each other on that pedestal
You try to fit in each other’s schedule
And be together in the time residual

Sometimes you wanna **** them
Then you look back at the times when
You used to think they might have been heaven sent
And made changes and sacrifices as if every day was Lent

The break up
The make up
The forgiveness ****
All that nonsense for what?

To get your blood boiling
Just part of everyday mortal coiling
Suffer in the pain just toiling
Just forget about it blow it off its just annoying

You talk about kids, a house and a family
During a late night-early morning talk over some coffee
Thinking about the future is interesting
But you can’t predict so just wait and see

Then you got that real drama
Like a ******* soap opera
Know when it’s coming it ain’t ever a shocker
Just keep your mouth shut to keep good karma

Double edged sword
You gave them your word
Not a necessity
But a possessive desire
Got burnt by the fire
But it felt so good

Thinking they’re gonna be the death of you
But it doesn’t matter when it’s just them and you
In bed getting close making moves
Not caring letting loose with nothing to prove

Because you both know about that ***
That it’s just the best
When you ain’t gotta worry what comes next
And all the dramatic and arguments can be put to rest

All the jealousy
Taking its toll you see

Seeing where you’re both standing

This whole time I’ve been talking about you and I
You’re the only thing take makes me aware that I’m alive
The reason I survive
Every day with you on my side

So stop with the opposition
I got one mission
No compromising positions
So look me in the eye and listen

I love you
I hate you
I need you
I want you

I don’t know what’ll happen today
And tomorrow’s too far away
We're way past yesterday
I guess what I’m trying to say is

All that matters is you and me
And all that we can ever be
Is loyal and honest to the highest degree
And try to take it one step at a time rationally
And walk hand in hand through our clandestine destiny

Double edge sword
I gave you my word
She got the best of me
I’m no liar
So cut me, slash me
I’d die for her
2.2k · Sep 2014
A Horse Of A Different Color
Tommy Johnson Sep 2014
That was then, this is now
Who was where when what was how?
Hear them take their last breath as they're shot down
I scream
Floating in the gene pool, expecting the man who can walk on water to arrive
Sell outs and everyone who has had a bad week even though it's only Monday

Whippersnappers hang their heads in shame
I am one of twelve
So expendable
We live in gluttony
Lineleaders, math teachers, bottom-feeders have no idea
Watch them fall and be forced to crawl on their bellies
We laugh
Lewandowsky-Lutz dysplasia, getting back to your roots
Progeric clock-makers, lying dead on The Yellow Brick Road
Thin-skinned Transsexuals putting bricks in their purses
We live by eight
We die from our weight
And go unbloomed
       -Tommy Johnson
Standing in a nuclear reactor somewhere in Chernobyl looking for the truth
It might be in my contaminated endoplasmic reticulum
I am a radiant
Doppler radar
Monopoly dollar

Singing in the shower, amateur hour
Projecting sour notes
Pouring out their hearts and souls, hear them

Moo-juice nectar, spilling off The Round Table
Blondes in red bracelets, Kabbalah saves them
Henry pays no tax, John Berryman's bats tell us
You are the lunatic
We are the two quarters of a half-wit
This whole thing is insane

       -Tommy Johnson
2.1k · Jan 2015
Eat At Joe's
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
You and I are going to settle this score
Now that you've abandoned your special snowflake campaign
And overcome your Stockholm Syndrome

A dynasty has been created
The snowball's chance begins to take effect

The short order cook has taken a tall order
A citrus feast for a ship of marauders
To prevent scurvy

The  maitre d' disarmed them at the door
And allowed them to infiltrate the dining hall

The captain sat and twiddled his thumbs while his crew cut loose

The first mate drank fire water and shot it out of his nose

The quarter master ordered some fiddlesticks served on door glass

The boatswain ordered the insemination of a cow so he could eat the cow and all of its offspring
It was his first day eating meat again
He remembered his vegan salad days

The carpenter and ****** constructed a shrine of after dinner mints
And conducted a seance to talk to their old crew mate, Black eyed Ollie

He squandered his life searching the sea for a doctor to restore his sight
They planned to revive him and allow his spirit to possess one of them

And sure enough Black eyed Ollie entered the ******'s body and they took turns controlling the fleshy vessel
Black eyed Ollie got every day of the week that ended in "Y" and the  ****** got the rest

The filching crew of blighters finished their meal and went on their way
They left quite a tip
"Actions speak louder than words and money talks too
Yet talk is cheap
But time is money
So every burning second counts
Then let's freeze time
Take action and buy all the talk at whole sale price
And sell it at retail price"

So pay up man, I told you working here would be interesting
2.0k · Apr 2014
Summer Itinerary
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
This season we're going all out
And I mean ballistic
We ain't pulling no punches
Taking out all the stops
Were gonna go mad
Talk,talk ,talk
Go, go go!
I'm talking about road trips to nowhere
Bar hoping like alcoholic amphibians
Bus rides to The Big City
Cliff jumping
Hold our breaths as the fireworks launch themselves into the summer evening sky and explode
As we dance and sing of wonderful things
Debouched ***
Experimenting with sense derangement
Study the spiritual teaching from the far east
Make the suburbans myths that will never fade
Roller coaster calamities
Visit strip clubs under the unfinished highway
Lay back on a crowded beach and float in the ocean
Hike in the wilderness up a torrent mountain
And when we reach the top we'll howl at the moon in the starry midnight air
We will write compelling manifestos of freedom
And we will not sleep
We will grow stronger, wiser
And when fall comes we will be new
We'll be alive
We will have known what it means to live
1.9k · Jul 2014
A Day In The Village
Tommy Johnson Jul 2014
What have I done?
I've unleashed Quincy Valero into The Big Bad City, upon Greenwich Village for the first time
The 177 express, round trip
To Port Authority
To the A train to Canal

We missed our stop
Had to walk from Soho to Washington Square Park
But along the way we saw artists and galleries
Head shops and street performers
Hobos and junkies

"We made it"
"We in this *****!"
Quincy said as we walked through the arches

We saw a multitude of creatures
An artist drawing floral murals with chalk
Meditating Buddhists
A cello player playing for a meal
A drummer drumming for money to get back home
A jazz band
A clarinet player
Writers scribbling down whatever came to mind

We saw beautiful women everywhere
"Look, my ten, your two"
Quincy said nodding to a **** brunette wearing a sundress walking by

We got coffee at The Third Rail coffee shop
We met lovey dovey couples and a girl poet sipping espresso

Treading down Bleaker to Sullivan to Macdougal to Huston
*** shops, leather and studs, ****** and flavored lubes
"This **** reminds me of Saw"
Quincy said with a laugh
"Too much for your threshold aye?"
I said nudging him

We passed a guy selling vinyl on the street
"How much for the Charlie Parker record?" I asked
He took the record out and inspected it
"Five bucks" he said
"How long you gonna be here, like till what time?" I asked
"Oh I don't live by time or numbers" he answered
"Time ain't your mast huh?" I laughed
"Nope, you cant spell T-I-M-E without M-E" he said
Quincy and I looked at eachother with a grin
"I'll be back, if I'm not here before you leave good luck in your ventures" I said as we walked away
"Thanks brother enjoy the day" he said smiling and waving

We ate to Papaya Hot dogs
Best in the city
Then to the pool hall

Now folks, it is common knowledge where I'm from the Quincy Valero is the local pool shark
He can break and sink three *****
He can jump over your ball and get his in
He can shoot behind his back with one hand

Playing with him is a guaranteed loss
But I never cared, I just like playing
We talked and laughed about all the stupid nonsense back at home
And planned our next move

We went to The Blue Note, the best jazz club in the city
The Dizzy Gillespie All Star Band was playing that night
But it was too expensive for both of us so we went on to St. Mark's place

More head shops
More *** shops
And book stores, clothing stores
Punk things in Search and Destroy, record stores
All that good stuff

It was getting late
Back to Bleaker to start drinking
First stop, a little pub
The bartender was a gorgeous blonde, sweet as could be
We ordered two beers
She seemed to be having trouble with the tap
"Sorry guys it's a little foamy, next rounds on me"
We were amazed by that because back home all the bartenders couldn't care less if we got a whole mug of foam
We clinked glasses and took that first cool icy sip
So nice on such a hot day

"Ya know dude, this is it this is perfect" Quincy said
"What you mean?" I asked
"Well this is a great time, I'm on vacation right now and were here exploring and relaxing and enjoying the moment, this moment" he said with his beer hovering over his mouth

Quincy always talked about "This"
This moment
This time
This feeling
This thing

"This" is that time when you're in the moment
That moment of complete and total encumbrance
When you're wrapped up in what you'r doing because you love it and you're happy
The moment you live for
The moment you want to last forever
This moment
This right here
Not then, not before or after
But right now, this
We lived our lives trying to to make this happen every second of everyday
Living it up

Quincy took me to Artichoke Pizza
And my God, it was immaculate
A nine in wide, nine inch long and half inch thick slice of heaven
It was a mixture of crunchy, gooey, savory goodness
I highly recommend it

Then back to the bars
Wicked *****'s
Off The Wagon
The Bitter End
The Red Lion
Cafe Wha?

Scotch on the rocks

Smoking electronic cigarettes down cobble stone roads
Passing hipsters, college students and tweakers
Locals and tourists
"Out of my way you tourist *******" I yelled frantically pushing my way passed them with Quincy trudging behind

You can always spot a tourist because they got their cameras, their ***** packs and their head looking up saying "ooo look at the building and that one!" taking snap shots in awe

We walked to The V-club
As we walked up to the entrance a little old lady in a wheel chair called out to us, "Are you two brothers?"
We laughed and said "no, were best friends and next door neighbors"
"Oh, well you too look very similar, very young" she said
"Yeah we're both twenty one" Quincy said
"You live around here?" I asked
"Right over there" she said pointing to the building across the street
She told us about how the building was falling apart and how all the law students got booted out leaving the little old lady and one other person living in the nine floor heap
"Back in the day there were river rats in their the sized of cats, but now we only have mice" she said
"I'm being moved though, whenever the land lords and the officials decided where" she added
She had some sort old senior citizen perk that allowed her to be taken care of
She then started to spit some of her poetry from thirty years ago, perfectly from memory
It was full of truth, insight and hope
We were floored by this wheelchair bound geriatric
She was a a retired barmaid, a poet, and an ex-lounge singer
Her name was Tracy Warren

The three of us walked into the V-club
I ordered a glass of Pinot Noir
And Quincy got a draft Brooklyn Lager
While pulling out a stool a spilled my wine all over the wooden table
"****" I said as everyone in the bar watched me put my face in my palms
I got paper towels and cleaned up my mess while the bartender leaned over to Quincy and said "If you don't tip me that will be your last drink ever in here"
"Okay" Quincy said as he walked over to me laughing at my expense
"If it was Burgundy I'd be in tears" I said with a half serious frown

I went to the bartender and apologized and asked sheepishly if I could possibly get a refill

"You spilled your wine?" he asked with sarcasm
"Yeah" I said
"And you want me to give you another?" he asked
"Well, I mean I don't know if that's okay or not that's why I'm asking" I said
"We don't, it isn't okay, you have to buy another one" he said with the most insulting tone I've ever heard
"Okay" I said with disdain

"**** this guy" Quincy and I both said
I left the remaining wine dripping off the table
Quincy ****** all over the bathroom
He finished his beer and we left without tipping that bearded-high and mighty- *******
We said goodbye to Tracy and she told us to enjoy every moment and to get home safely

We went to one more bar, had one more drink and headed home
But on the way to the train we got stopped by a ***
"Hey you give me money I know you got it" he yelled at Quincy
"Na man, hes broke trust me" I said to end the oncoming confrontation
"No yous lying i know it" he said
"Na, see those shoes? I got him those shoes, fifty five bucks" I told him
"Stop putting me on" he yelled
Then some white knight hipster wearing thick rimmed glasses and a green flannel stepped in and said "What's going on here? You picking on my friend?" While putting his arm around the *** mocking him and making trouble for us
"This ******* won't give me any money for my troubles" he told the hipster
"Come on man, give 'em something" he said to Quincy
"Dude, he has no money he spent all he had today" I said to the hipster and the ***
"He's a trust fund kid, he gets it from mommy and daddy" I said winking to Quincy
"Trust fund kid?!" the hipster said
"Trust fund kid!" said the ***
"TRUST FUND KID, TRUST FUND KID" screamed the hipster, the *** and myself laughing at Quincy making a scene
Then me and Quincy just walked away throwing our heads back howling at the full moon, drunk and exhausted heading for the subway  

The subway to Port Authority
Our legs, our feet and our ***** were killing us
We just wanted to sit

We could not for the life of us find our gate
We got misdirections from officers, other public transportation patrons
Thank God for this one janitor for pointing us in the right direction out of our wild goose chase
And ***** the guy who I asked "Hey man do you know where I can find the gate for the 177 express?"
And all I got was a blank indifferent stare
"WELL **** ME RIGHT?!" I yelled in his face

Finally we got on the line for our bus
We saw some weaselly looking guy cutting the line until he got booted to the back of the line
As he passed us we both looked at his and said "Weet, get meerkatted scumbag"
He had to wait for the next bus, whenever that was

The bus ride home felt like an eternity
But we made it
We had to walk down the unpaved dirt road to our street

We did it
We took on The Village
Sailed through the bars
Walked the streets
Met cool, hip people
Made memories
And now we have stories to tell
1.9k · Apr 2014
Dishwasher/Prep Blues
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
I'm not going to the pizzeria today
Hell no, I'm not going to that pizzeria today
To go in and scrub the dishes
The bleach is burning my skin
And insect crawling on the food
While my time is just wasting
I refuse to wash another bin or tray
I'm not going to the pizzeria today

I'm not going on that sinking ship today
Forget that, I'n not getting on that sinking ship today
We have a sushi place across the street
Another pizzeria two doors down
They also own the bagel shop between us
And when bakery opens, I won't be around
I'm sorry, but I certainly can't stay
I'm abandoning this sinking ship today

I'm resigning from this bad business today
That it, I'm done with this bad business today
The boss ignored the IRS for months
They came, emptied the registers and shut us down
Sometimes there's no money in the bank
So every now and then all our checks bounce
I work for six ours for $8.25, I expect to get paid
That's it I've had it with this bad business today

I'm giving up on this lost cause today
Yes, I'm giving up on this lost cause today
It fell apart when they switched hands
Two parents bought it for their sons
And they plowed it into the ground
One's on coke and the others just dumb
When they're parents come in they have nothing to say
I'm giving up on this lost cause today

I'm not going into work today
I can not go into work today
Where the employees could care less but still try their best
And the boss act like two year old
Where we get bi weekly pay and everyday is slow
And the pizza in the case is cold
I'm giving in my two weeks notice and going on my way
There is nothing that can make me go to that godforsaken pizzeria today
1.9k · Jan 2015
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
Reanimate the dead air
But not with mindless banter
Blither blather
Comprised of
Contradicting compromises
Less is more
More or less
That's more like it
Your'e just a statistic
There's always room for improvement
Your'e only human
An ectomorph waving a white flag
A mesomorph crying "SOS"
And endomorph in the shallow end experiencing the ripple effect

It's a white world
White washed
You need a strategy
To win this raffle
So you can win a chance to rub elbows with the ****** upper crust busybodies-chatter boxes
It's  win win
A win lose
In all its forthcoming splendor
Enhance your station
You spineless jellyfish
Taking your work home with you
Giving yourself scoliosis
Bending over backwards
Looking for something to depend on
A fallback anchor
You're in the hot spot
You cold sore
It's an inside job
You canker sore
1.9k · Jan 2015
Tommy Johnson Jan 2015
The Cut-up cut out and cut down The Middle man then cut in while he and his date were dancing
He tried to strike up a conversation but struck out when she struck down upon him blows of reigning rejection

Now The Psychopath and The Sociopath are at odds

The Psychopath thinks The Sociopath is sloppy and his ideas have no longevity

The Sociopath thinks the Psychopath is just having growing pains and need to learn to live a little

The Psychopath was born into this, but the Sociopath was born onto it

The onset of calculated impulses

Contain yourself
Control yourself

Looking at it from an ethnocentric point of view
Entertain the idea that you may be the antisocial one
Humor me on this one
Would a smart person waste hard earned money on an "I'm with Stupid" t-shirt?

Postulate the theory that their are six degrees of separation
That you are a few hellos to someone who is a friend of a friend every way you turn
And that person may or may not rupture the cycled path you've been treading

Told to be prompt
To have good posture
To do regular pruning to our appearances and keep them up
But price and participation always vary

Is it a tad underwhelming or did I speak too soon?
Was it lost in translation?
It's called acorn theory

Not what you came with
Not where you came to
Or even where you come from
But what you came as
And will continue on to be

The hustle and bustle
Packing heat
Flexing muscle
In the big bad city
1.8k · Dec 2013
Castle Park
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
Said they were at the park
Stay there and hide
Until the stars filled the sky

The sky is the shelter from our pride
It has found us
We can’t hide

Leave my thoughts aside
And grow my seeds to root
And let them grow sky high

Cultivate and meditate
On everything and define
As your complete being becomes a star in the sky
1.8k · May 2014
Tommy Johnson May 2014
I dodged a desert eagle bullet and disappeared
As the swan's trumpet rusted
During the Pentecost
As the ordained minister pressed play
Chiang Kai-sheck pressed on against communists

My horse got spooked by some type of anomaly
Making me late for my two o'clock train
So now I have saddle bags of useless words
My cigarette's one giant granny ash
And my bowl is cashed
1.8k · Dec 2013
Tommy Johnson Dec 2013
When I was sitting in my desk listening to this professor speak
He went on to state that our destines are already prewritten before we are born
That the road we travel has been built previous to our conception
I find this to be false!

Oh Search engines please look for me
A place where I can breathe freely
A place where I can sigh

Tea tree oils, Echinacea Goldenseal
We’re making love that seems so unreal
So many ways to express this bliss
We moan and we bite and we scratch and we kiss
Pent up frustration inside me until
We both get naked and together it’s killed
And it is no more
Lightning strikes
And minds are lit
Bestowing gifts
Coming from nature

Dark Covens
Holy bishops
Saving men
We shall perform a hex!

This is age of impermanence
Of alternative reference
Disregarding sacraments
Where we are all immanent

Slaying Natives, ***** slaves
Freeing them then they segregate
Separate like night and day
Then at night they’d kneel and pray
Asking God for him to save
I can’t believed they lived that way

A system around the sun
Is it ending or just begun?
The path to enlightenment, there’s more than one
Leave me deaf
And take my sight

The porcelain women wet in tears
The brooding man wise beyond his years
The children living in fear
Baffled with the question
Of wrong and right
And so I write
Day is getting dimmer
Televisions muted
Collecting my thoughts
There’s still something unsaid
Somewhere in my mind
But these disturbances and distractions
Leave them to remain undefined

Venturing down splendid hallways of machination
That led to an armada of malicious tendencies
How did I get here?
To this domain of deviation

I need to turn in another direction
A new route and get out of here

Screaming for a sign
Find me
Before time runs out
Sacrifice the live stock of your pride
At the intersection
Of pain and pleasure
But it’s getting congested with
Traffic of Sunday drivers, drunk and texting
Find me
On the razors edge
In the hallway
With a legion
Ready to charge
At your deepest hidden motives
The prerogative of the compass that will point you and I in a new direction
And if need be we can always poison each other for the well being of one another
1.8k · Mar 2014
The Roach Motel
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
There’s a boarding  house off the main road

Right by the park

It’s called The Roach Motel
And that’s where we had quite a number of our infamous get togethers

When it was occupied with Latin dance music and the stomping of feet, it was like a pulsating tumor on that side of town

The Roach Motel
Because you could drink till you blacked out and then spend the night on the floor as a guest with various multiple legged pests

Silverfish on the walls
***** dishes stacked well in the sink
Day old Chinese food in the table
And of course roaches weaving in and out of the crevices of the kitchen

Yet people always came back knowing of such dishevelment

Maybe it was the fully stocked refrigerator of at least four different kinds of ice cold beer

Or the vast array of liquors that were always present
And the sodas and juices to mix them with or use as chasers

It may very well be the delicious, calming tobacco that was stuffed into the alluring green hookah with two hoses
One red
One blue

I believe it’s simply the vibe of it all

When you’re at The Roach Motel you feel free, you feel like all your worries are gone
And there’s always a drink in your hand and you’re always among friends even in strange company

Whatever it was we always found ourselves going back

The Roach Motel was owned by Venezuelan mother of six children who allowed these festivities to commence

And when word got out that there would be a party soon to come everyone spread that word all over like a pat of Land O’ Lakes on a warm English muffin

Kids from Bergenfeild
From Dumont
From New Milford, Palisades and Garfield

Drinking the night away with bugs and good friends

The mangy scruffy rat looking dog running around the whole party avoiding being stepped on
Unidentifiable arthropods crawling out the sink

Laughing uncontrollably
Conversing incoherently
Then passing out and waking up with a horrible hangover

I remember the time four of our friend puked their guts out there

One in the toilet
One in the bath tub
On in the bedroom
And one on the living room floor…there was corn in it

Two hours of comforting and clean up

I remember our 420 party
Where the legendary Quincy Valero ate his very first bud brownie and went on a trip he still to this day cannot replicate

I recall setting off fireworks off in the back of The Roach Motel and in my drunken buffoonery knocking over a lit mortar and nearly blasting the neighbor’s fence down but it was averted thanks to Quincy’s rare swiftness

This place is a backdrop of so many hook ups, so many good times and of course insect infestation

Although a great party pad it was filthy and you would feel itchy whenever you thought about how gross it was
I would never sit on a couch or on a bed
I had the fear of picking up bed begs and bringing them home

But despite that The Roach Motel was our own little slice of Dionysian Utopian freedom

It mirror all our rundown rugged ***** souls that just needed a place to unwind and fall apart and float down the bourbon river and just lose it

With a joint or an electric cigarette being passed around
And electronic music being blasted
It was always another night full of future stories to tell
The Roach Motel
1.8k · Apr 2014
Accident Prone
Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
Quincy Valero, once again on crutches
He always manages to do this to himself
This time he was in his required exercise class and dislocated his knee
I just laugh at this

When we were younger he got roaring drunk and began doing an inebriated salsa
We all chanted
All of a sudden one leg wen one way and one the other way
He screamed in pain
It was a  hairline fracture

Another time he had a lovers quarrel with this girl he was seeing
They fought all the time
Like all the time
And one night in a furious rage
Quincy punched a wall and fractured his hand

A few weeks later I had a pool party
And Quincy had to wrap his damaged hand in a plastic bag and hold it at a 90 degree angle the whole time

He takes all these injuries to heart
He's the kind of guy who has always got to be moving
He's always gyrating, talking, laughing
And when he's even the tiniest bit immobile or disabled
He goes into a short period of depression and self pity

It's just funny to me because just when I think he'll be okay
Some how he manages to just get himself hurt
The clutz haha
Even now, I'm talking to him
He hurt his thumb the other night at a party he threw two days ago

Tommy Johnson Apr 2014
You ever think about how shallow some people are?
So shallow that if you stepped in a puddle of them your feet would still be dry
The people who aim to do things, maybe even great things just to impress or gratify someone
To put someone down
To make up for some kind of weakness
To prove others wrong

Those who create this image of themselves that appeases others perception of them

Material things
Designer clothes
Gizmos and gadgets

Things that don't mean anything more than a look see to anyone of real depth

You know depth?

To appreciate everything you're lucky enough to have or gain
To understand the little things and the bigger picture
To have been through hardships and learned from them



But then, there is something worse than being shallow


To be empty of anything

No desires
No pleasure

Just numb hopelessness

The ones who have been hurt and just couldn't get back up
And fill the void with either drugs, things of only monetary value or self-inflected lashings of pity, loathing and mistrust

They look at the ones with depth and see them as idiotic idealists with no direction or any idea what it means to be part of a normal society

They look at the shallow ones and see great figures of wealthy stature
Exciting lives being lead by beautiful elitists
1.7k · Jun 2014
Tommy Johnson Jun 2014
Aborigines in the Australian outback  
Among starving dingoes

A drug deal going on behind the bowling alley
And a butterfly knife waiting to be put into someones gut

Show some skin
Then maybe you will get somewhere at the customer service desk
Buyer beware, consumer keep cautious
Lay waste to that place and get your money back

They sold you an amphibian and told you it was a marsupial
The clerk wrote your inconvenience off as null

Off in Puerto Rico there's a cockfight
Pass the bug replant
Dos cervezas por favor
It's a steel cage grudge match
Brought to you by the courtesy of some man who's name I cannot pronounce
I got my invitation to this thing in a basket of tropical fruit
Someplace near substructure homes

I see a man in a bandanna looking at me
He turned out to be a free lance astronomer who has a thesis on starry quadrilaterals in the sky
He thought by betting on the bigger rooster he would hit pay dirt
But it was I who met pay day when I bet on the smaller, faster one

The astronomer had so much hate in his eyes I thought his corneas were going to burst
Be pulled out a blade and chased after me and all my winnings with the intent to puncture my torso and pillage my pockets

But had to go see a man about a horse named "Nunya"
Luckily I got away clean to tall the tale
1.7k · Feb 2014
Father's Financial Woes
Tommy Johnson Feb 2014
Because man made spheres of synergy are treading on the verge of life support
No cooperation within the conglomerations
Perhaps we need brotherhood outside the cubical
The economy failing
Middle class working heroes about to **** themselves
But they have no money to buy a gun…out the window it is!
As insurance men and tax collectors and bill collectors beat a smile from my face with overturn fees and late fees with interest
And are all my reactions just misplaced projections?
I say **** ‘em I have no money
I’ll pay you when I can
What more can I do?
Tommy Johnson Jul 2014
A term of endearment
A pure bread

The firing squad on parade on the thoroughfare
The death squads are on patrol for run on sentences and chemical runoff
The peer mediators tell us all to calm down
The rapscallions try to push us into their get-rich-quick schemes
And the shut-ins settle down with their mail ordered brides

The wallflowers tell everyone to go to hell with great brio
I guess I'll see them there
It won't be much of an endeavor
It'll be like a dog finding its way home

The blood brothers perturb everyone else
Telling them their open blood pact is BYOB
Then starting a be-in singing Come all ye faithful and Kumbaya
It all comes full circle, monkey see monkey do
1.7k · Mar 2014
Pigeon Man
Tommy Johnson Mar 2014
TV’s going in living room
Talking about our doom
We’re laying on the front lawn
Yesterday’s long gone
Woman showing skin
Too fat, too thin
She can never win
Throwing up yet again

Listen up man
We’re all ******
Re-repeating reprimands
Demolition on demand

Locate security
Trying to make camp
In independent infidelity
Strutting to the bank
Cashing in corrupted currency
Stock markets sank
Guitar man teary eyed
Rock and roll came and died
Record producer’s big old lies
Broken dreams and wasted time
Colorado Smokey Joe lights a bone
Faded out to the ozone
Smoking on home grown
Got glaucoma? Get an O

Shut up dude
We’re all *******
Forget the olden days
Give marriage to the gays

Let go of the narrow minded silly ways
Let it be as common as classic Frito-Lays
Rolling in the new waves
Is it God who really saves?
Is there even one big deity?
Guess there is if you believe

Be born, live life
Go to college, get a wife
Get job, sacrifice
It’s the norm, is it right?
Have a kid, then have another
Father, mother
Sister, brother
Try to tolerate each other

Watch your back bro
Because I don’t know
Undecided, undeclared
Run in circles, running scared

Take a risk, double dare
Love needs to be redefined
Unanimously agreed and signed
Peace in the heart and the mind
Going down the rabbit hole
Striving for that same goal
Anti- bullying campaign
Kid comes home blood stained
Toughen up
Enough's enough
Opposing mainstream reality
Wiseman taken as a fool
Becomes another social causality

Feel it
Taste it
On the back of your tongue
Hanging by the gallows martyrs hung

Climbing up the ladder’s rungs
Foul smelling whiskey bums
Grab a *** and stash it
Looking like your bat ****
Steal a car and crash it
“Always wash your berries before you eat them and fly toward the sun”
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