Free bird Poetry – Page 54 – Word Smith Wisdom

Fractured Nursery Rhymes

Fractured Nursery Rhymes

Mary had a little lamb.

It’s fleece was a dirty mess.

So Mary washed it in the creek.

As it dried it choked to death.

Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater.

Had a wife & couldn’t keep her.

He put her in a pumpkin shell.

He ate the whole thing. He did well.

Bah, bah, black sheep.

Have you any wool?

Take a guess, creep.

Get an eye full.

Jack Sprat could eat no fat.

His wife wouldn’t eat any lean.

So he divorced her & got a cat.

The 2 of them licked the plate clean.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had quite a fall.

He splattered yoke on the stones.

Now he lays there in rapture & moans.

Jack and Jill went up the hill.

They said they were going for water.

What they did gave them a thrill.

Now, soon he will be a father.

Hi diddle diddle. The cat & the fiddle.

The cow jumped over the moon.

On his way down, he said with a frown.

“I think I’ll make buttermilk soon.”

Tom Thumb, said with a gleam in his eye.

“I really like pie.”, as he stuck in his thumb

and he pulled out a plumb. He said

“”Damn, I hate plumb pie.”

Who goosed the moose?

Who turned the lunatic loose?

Who wrote these nursery rhymes?

“It was I” he said between the lines.

——————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Loneliness Here To Stay

Loneliness Here To Stay

He saw the man sitting on the park bench.

He looked so lonely it made his teeth clench.

He wished he could wipe out all loneliness.

If he could he wouldn’t stop at only this.

But, how could such a thing ever be done?

A general solution may not work for some.

Probably what each one needed was a friend.

He couldn’t be friend to all. Why pretend.

Maybe each lonely person needed God.

That solution would not be too odd.

But, not everyone wants a religious life.

Though it would help them get things right.

Finally, he reached a final conclusion.

There is no universal fix. It’s a delusion.

Now he was becoming depressed himself.

He wished he had magic,—- like an elf.

Wait a minute!! He just had an idea.

One didn’t come often. Not like diarrhea.

If lonely, you could read poetry & books.

It would be great if that’s all it took.

Creating their own world, they wouldn’t be lonely.

They could read and write. Create a pony.

Create an imaginary world that had friends.

Maybe that could work. It all depends.

Would it be enough to delete the lonely feeling?

Or would it turn them into a different being?

Someone lost in the world of imagination.

Getting back may take some creation.

I had better lay this one to rest.

I think that would be for the best.

There is no universal cure.

If there are people, the lonely will be here.

———————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Solitary Man No More

Solitary Man No More

Nobody knew where the money came from.

It was enough to cover all of his fun.

He avoided other people’s curious looks.

Writing poems & reading exciting books

carried him deep into each night.

He would start over again when it was light.

He was isolated. He lived alone.

In public, his face was rarely shown.

He said he was his own best friend.

His poems & his reading he would defend.

He had an imagination that knew no limits.

He could create a whole new world in minutes.

He didn’t watch TV or hear a radio.

Newspapers & magazines were a no no.

Sometimes he relaxed with music.

Not that often, but he liked the acoustics.

His poems reflected his isolation & life.

He would bring out how to avoid all strife.

He was called eccentric and a little odd.

He had his own thoughts & views of God.

He was not into penitence, or any such thing.

A monk’s celibate life wasn’t his to bring.

Yet, he never dealt with the opposite sex.

A slightly risqué’ poem was as close as it gets.

His books gave him ideas for new poems.

Read only by him. He accepted no coins.

He didn’t publish, sell or put them on the internet.

They would probably be found upon his death.

One day he wrote a poem of his life.

He thought: ‘Wait, this doesn’t seem right.’

He began to see just how eccentric he was.

He wondered why he was like this? Because??

He couldn’t come up with a good reason.

He decided to go out. It was the season.

Of course, he went to the library.

He soon met a sweet girl he would finally marry.

How that came about is another story.

But, I can assure you, it wasn’t boring.

She liked all the things he liked to.

She was an introvert. He said “I like that about you.”

They both loved poetry. She wrote some too.

She said “I love books, but mostly I love you..”

Life went on, but now there were two.

His poetry reflected a different point of view.

Life was good from all he could see.

He even wished the same for you and me.

——————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

The Dragon Rider’s First Quest

The Dragon Rider’s First Quest

The Dragon Rider heard the news.

Some ‘baddies’ were abducting kids.

Selling them for money and booze.

They were sold to the highest bids.

His dragon knew when he did.

Their minds were melded as one.

He met the dragon where she hid.

There was a battle to be won.

He flew his dragon in the night.

They flew to where the ‘baddies’ were.

They knew what they did was right.

This would be brutal, they were sure.

They found the ‘baddies’ all tanked up.

Sitting around a small camp fire.

He had a tightness in his gut.

There would be no talking to the liars.

The dragon swooped down & screeched.

They looked up & were sprayed with fire.

They had no time to gain their feet.

Instant crispy critters & burned up liars.

Booze & a camp fire should cover it.

But, one witness saw the whole thing.

Word spread that a man on a dragon did it.

Who could believe a man on the wing?

The legend of The Dragon Rider had begun.

It spread like wild fire through the land.

This would not be the only battle he won.

He became known as The Dragon Man.

————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Rude Awakening

Rude Awakening

Someone keeps calling my name.

Is it the whispering of the wind?

Somehow, it doesn’t feel the same.

Is it a voice from deep within?

Someone keeps calling my name.

I see no one as I look around.

Sometimes, it drives me insane.

I hear it often. That same old sound.

Someone keeps calling my name.

Is it someone from my past?

I know that sounds a little lame.

Sometimes I feel harassed.

Someone keeps calling my name.

Is it a voice from up above?

If yes, there is much to gain.

I must handle it with gloves.

Someone keeps calling my name

I awake and look around.

“Get up for school, lame brain.”

My mom is who is making that sound.

—————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Avoiding Commitment

Avoiding Commitment

I am drifting free in the wind.

Nothing to anchor me from within.

You are chasing me where I go.

What you want, I just don’t know?

Perhaps you want to throw me a lifeline?

You will just have to bide your time.

Where I drift to, I do not know.

I am not putting on a show.

I am as free as the birds can be.

No permanent ties to anchor me.

I float around here and there.

Taking the best from everywhere.

Never touched by feelings of remorse.

I try to stay on a steady course.

My shields are up as I float along.

Not being hurt will keep me strong.

I am free as a form of defense.

Maybe this doesn’t make sense.

But, to be hurt is what I avoid.

I would rather stay in a void.

My emotions are tender and raw.

I can’t take a chance I might fall.

There is not enough trust out there.

I could be hurt almost anywhere.

Obviously, I have been hurt before.

I totally trusted & was hurt to the core.

This is my new way to cope with it.

Avoidance makes it worth the trip.

I am as free as the birds can be.

No permanent ties to anchor me.

I float around here and there.

Taking the best from everywhere.

Never touched by feelings of remorse.

I try to stay on a steady course.

My shields are up as I float along.

Not being hurt will keep me strong.

I never want to crash and burn.

Brought down by a lover’s yearn.

I stay superficial at all times.

To do less would be a crime.

I always keep the emotions intact.

I never commit a foolish act.

I stay free and flow with the wind.

If you don’t commit, there is no sin.

————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Waiting To Make A Move

Waiting To Make A Move

Well, I was moving & grooving with a friend of mine.

Thinking that maybe I should make her mine.

Things seem to go along o.k.

She is always willing to go and play.

Maybe there will come a time

when I can make a move and make her mine.

For now, just being friends with her

is more than enough to hope it may occur.

We blend together like bread and butter.

We would rather be together than with another.

She is supportive in every way.

The best friend I could have today.

I do not know if she would want to go further.

If she didn’t it would really be murder.

My emotions would be blown down like sitting ducks.

I would slip into a depression worse than a rut.

Maybe just friends is the way to go.

I know that is not quite the whole show.

But, it beats depression any day of the week.

Let the earth be inherited by the meek.

Meanwhile, I will bide my time.

Maybe get a clue if she would be mine.

Then I would know what to do next.

We could finally put the mystery to rest.

Things would then change for the better.

With improvements made to the letter.

More than a friend, more than a lover.

Someone I love as much as my mother.

A soulmate for the rest of my life.

I will wait,—- so there will be no strife.

—————————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Wrongly Accused

Wrongly Accused

You want revenge for a nasty act.

Though you don’t know who was at bat.

It was not me. The rumor mill lies.

Before I would do such a thing, I would die.

You want to crucify me on your anger.

For your revenge there is no languor.

I don’t blame you for being upset.

But, there is only one thing I regret.

You jumping to conclusions that are not true.

I was not the one who has did this to you.

I have no idea who it could have been?

Whoever did this was not a friend.

I would tell you who, if I only knew.

I can see what this is coming to.

I am being hung out to dry.

A scapegoat, hanging from a pole in the sky.

You will feel foolish when you see you’re wrong.

By then it will be too late. You came on too strong.

What we had will be totally destroyed.

Do not let this happen, I employ.

You’re not listening. You’re insane as a goose.

You’re mind is made up. You’re irrational side is loose.

There is no way to bring you back in.

Except to tell you I was with your best friend.

She can give testimony to this.

I know that is like a punch with a fist.

Caught between a rock and a hard place.

There is no other way to state my case.

I am damned if I tell the truth. Damned if I don’t.

Yet, I am innocent of it. To admit it, I won’t.

Either way I am screwed, blued, and tattooed.

Yet, I won’t confess to being so rude.

Being with your best friend isn’t what you think.

I got advice for a gift for you. I said with a wink.

You’re birthday is coming up real soon.

I wanted to surprise you with more than balloons.

Now, since you think it’s me, I feel like a goon.

Take time to think this through.

You will find I have been true blue.

——————————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Badly Burned

Burned Badly

He’s been down and out. No longer around.

He has not been seen around town.

He’s like a $2 novel without a cover.

Still,—– his story is like no other.

He was burned badly and didn’t recover.

An emotional burn is like no other.

He’d been dropped, stomped, the fire put out.

Yet, the pain continues. He feels like a no account.

She tore him every way but loose.

Ripped him up like the red caboose.

He didn’t have a prayer going in.

He was too trusting to ever win.

He gave her his heart and soul.

She torpedoed them like a soccer pro.

Kicking his heart all around.

Ripping his soul till it can’t be found.

He was only looking for a loving commitment.

She led him on then gave him a shipment.

A shipment of suffering and pain.

Since then, he has never been the same.

He did nothing to deserve what he got.

But, she nailed him when he was on the spot.

It is just the type of girl she is.

She’s a heart breaker, without any fizz.

She tore him every way but loose.

Ripped him up like a red caboose.

He didn’t have a prayer going in.

He was too trusting to ever win.

He gave her his heart and soul.

She torpedoed them like a soccer pro.

Kicking his heart around.

Ripping his soul till it can’t be found.

He is afraid to show affection again.

She has destroyed his desire to win.

He may never find the love of his life.

She gave him too much pain and strife.

He has withdrawn to within himself.

Almost catatonic. Nothing can be felt.

He will never be hurt like that again.

Nothing touches him when he is within.

———————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)

Defense For Summertime Blues

Defense For Summertime Blues

It’s summertime and time to have fun.

I can’t stay long. I have to run.

I have money in my wallet.

It’s for a swinging weekend . Just call it.

Whatever you want for a good time.

Excluding drugs, alcohol, or any type of crime.

I know, I know. You have heard it before.

Yet,—- I am going out the door.

If it’s a yes,—- get a move on.

If it’s no,—-then I am gone.

I’ve gotta jet. Life is waiting.

I don’t have time for debating.

I know you have heard it all before.

But, this time I mean it to my core.

I am ready to rock and roll.

So come on. Get ready to go.

We will find some swinging hot spot.

We will have a blast. Believe it or not.

What brought about this change in me?

It is summertime. Time to be free.

I feel good when the weather is warm.

The nights are nice & the fields are full of corn.

After the club, time for a moonlit ride.

The top will be down with you by my side.

The wind will whistle through our hair.

The stars will be out everywhere.

We will pull over in a cozy little spot.

There will be necking, like it or not.

But, I all ready know you like it too.

After all, it is the popular thing to do.

Next day, we may go to the beach.

I know some mouth to mouth I can teach.

Later, we can go on a hay ride.

Or, stay there and listen to the tide.

Anything will be a blast with you.

The best defense for the summertime blues.

———————————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2015)