The Flying Monkey’s

 

        The Flying Monkey’s

I spent many years in my search.

Following every lead, for what it’s worth.

You may think it all kind of funny.

But, I found the land of the flying monkey.

 

It is a place shrouded in mystery.

A place that doesn’t have a history.

It is an island lost in time.

It is a place that’s hard to find.

 

I arrived in the murky mist.

I really wasn’t sure of this.

My crew and I went ashore.

Like a demon opened a door.

 

We couldn’t see much in the mist.

I pointed the way and made a fist.

A jungle started at the shore.

We used machete’s to make a door.

 

We hacked a trail for a couple miles.

We marched along in single file.

Then, we heard a screeching noise.

It sounded like a monkey toy.

 

Overhead, something flew by.

Scared me so bad I thought I would die.

More things were seen flying around.

Then one landed on the ground.

 

A flying monkey. There was no doubt.

This is what our trip was all about.

They kept their distance. They were smart.

We couldn’t coax one into a cart.

 

I wouldn’t shoot one. It’s not my way.

We found a skeleton the very next day.

We had pictures and we had the bones.

It was time to leave for home.

 

We had our proof they did exist.

There was little that we missed.

We kept the location secret.

Protected the monkey’s, with no regret.

 

The flying monkeys are still there .

Living free and flying everywhere.

We have the proof they do exist.

That’s all we wanted. Cross it off the list.

————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Creatures Of The Unknown

 

       Creatures Of The Unknown

There are people; creatures that are around.

They come and go with an eerie sound.

They are not of this world, it’s true.

They could be coming just for you.

Call them creatures of the night.

To see one is a real fright.

They are the basis of many legends.

Real or not?—– It all depends.

Many strange things lead back to them.

To believe is more than just a whim.

Would you take a chance it’s all a hoax?

No more real than a ghost?

Have you heard of the shadow people?

Black eyed children and haunted steeples?

A lot of things from the lunatic fringe.

Most make no sense until the end.

But, by then, it is way too late.

It has already sealed your fate.

Do not mess with the occult or unknown.

The result is not good, it has been shown.

You’ll end up a part of a scary tale.

One quoted over a glass of ale.

Your fate will become a fright.

Told around campfires late at night.

Compare it to the bogyman children fear.

Maybe, it was ‘them’ that was near?

Children have vivid imaginations.

Amazing how they see the situation.

So heed my words and be on guard.

Learning the truth can be real hard.

—————————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Magic Today

 

             Magic Today

I shouldn’t be so naive, they say.

Magic does not exist today.

I knew that, but then it happened.

It didn’t come to attack them.

It came in the night, like oozing ochre.

It was enough to scare the Joker.

You could tap in, if you believed.

No telling what you could achieve.

Practice makes perfect, they say.

It took much more than a day.

All the magic described in books

could be done, even by crooks.

It is a different world we now live in.

The best sorcerer would always win.

There was nothing online to help.

This wasn’t for just any whelp.

It took belief and a strong connection.

A good defense for protection.

Lightning bolts were flying fast & heavy.

One blasted out the local levy.

The flood wiped out the evil wizard.

Others said they would fry our gizzards.

The battle goes on with little relief.

One is lucky if they don’t lose their teeth.

How long will this magic stay?

For us, it is impossible to say.

But, while it lasts there will be no peace.

Evil wizards play for keeps.

———————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

 

Traveling In Time

       Traveling In Time

What if time was not linier?

You could jump around in time.

I know, it is a little queer.

But, all good times would be mine.

I would have the best of times every day.

Visit them again and again.

Every day I would play.

I probably wouldn’t know where to begin.

I could transverse time to my own pleasure.

Relive some of the most loving moments.

There are times I really treasure.

Go back to when I could eat donuts.

But, such an idea would be unsafe.

Man has not matured enough to handle it.

Some would try to manipulate a better fate.

The result would be bad, if they don’t quit.

No, man is not ready to traverse time.

We’ll have to learn from our mistakes.

If we do that, we may find

a better world, it will create.

Until then, it doesn’t hurt to dream.

We can come up with wonderful things.

Make them happen, if we scheme.

Amazing what imagination can bring.

————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

A World Of Change

 

   A World Of Change

Welcome to my world.

If you are like me.

There really isn’t much to see.

It is not worth hanging around.

Yet, you stay, as I frown.

 

My life is boring.

Not much going on.

Most everything is gone.

It feels like the end every day.

Yet, you want to stay and play?

 

Welcome to my world.

What else can I say?

You insist on having it your way.

Soon, you will say ‘This sucks!!’

Welcome to all the muck.

 

I said it was boring.

Now, you know what I mean.

Will you up and split the scene?

I wouldn’t blame you if you did.

I often feel like I’ll flip my lid.

 

Welcome to my world.

It is what it is.

I have nothing left to give.

In this life, there is no rule.

Except I can never leave too.

 

My life is boring.

You can never run away from you.

This rings so very true.

I am stuck with what I have made.

Yet, you will not let it fade.

 

You are part of my world.

Things are changing fast.

I never thought it would last.

I can’t recognize my old life now.

It has all changed somehow.

 

My life is no longer boring.

You have turned the magic key.

You found the better part of me.

My world is magical, with no end.

I have found much more than a friend.

——————-R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Fantasies Of A Poet

            Fantasies Of A Poet

When I think of the emotions wasted on you,

It burns me out. Through and through.

I showered you with all my affection.

All I ever got was just rejection.

Makes me wonder if others would?

I feel ousted out, like rotten wood.

Then, I met her briefly, and I was hooked.

I saw her by a bubbling brook.

It was a beautiful day in the park.

When I talked with her I felt a spark.

A small fire starting in my heart.

Desire, but not knowing where to start.

I have to quit writing these poems.

Get dressed and grab some coins.

Find her again and let the fire grow.

Then, I think about why I was feeling low.

I don’t know if I could take more rejection.

It would be harder than losing an election.

But, I will never know if I don’t try.

I strap down my heart and prepare to die.

I may be headed for another crash landing.

I know a relationship takes understanding.

When I was with her we seemed to click.

Maybe getting to know her is the trick.

If she likes poetry, I will write her one.

Make it a happy one, just for fun.

There will be a method to my madness.

In the end, I pray for gladness.

I have nowhere to go, but up.

I just need to make sure I don’t get in a rut.

—————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

Hillbilly Justice

            Hillbilly Justice

Twinkling lights. Stars all around.

Yet, here  I am,  prison bound.

For a crime that I did not do.

I couldn’t do such a thing to you.

The judge said “guilty” in a make believe trial.

Said I would be put away for a long while.

Someone shot and killed you.

That was something I wouldn’t do.

I loved you with all my heart.

I thought we would never part.

There is no justice in this hillbilly town.

I was an outsider, I soon found.

Yet, I loved you. It was my fate.

You worked at the diner where I ate.

You served me my breakfast plate.

You said you hoped I liked the steak.

We started talking and I asked you out.

You accepted. I wanted to shout.
After a few dates, we were a number.

Locals wanted to put us under.

They didn’t take to any strangers.

Said I wasn’t born in a manger.

I came over to pick you up.

In your hand was a coffee cup.

You were dead on the floor.

A gun was lying near the door.

I grabbed it up and looked around.

That is the way I was found.

Neighbors heard the shot . Came to see.

What they found was only me.

They saw the gun in my hand.

I was a stranger in their land.

They wouldn’t believe my story.

The gun matched the bullet in Lori.

My finger prints, of course, were on it.

So goes the story of my sonnet.

I’m going to die in the state prison.

Every one said “They wouldn’t miss him.”

A stranger in a hillbilly town has no chance.

He’d be better off to not find romance.

A backwoods lawyer isn’t worth his weight.

Which was considerable, at my trial date.

Justice is a word with little meaning.

When it comes to keeping me from swinging.

——————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

Tea Leaf Deceived

            Tea Leaf Deceived

He was a guy who drifted around.

One day he drifted into our town.

He wasn’t one who looked for trouble.

I don’t want to be one to burst his bubble.

But, when he arrived, his fate was sealed.

You might say he got a rotten deal.

Right away he attracted attention.

Mostly from girls. Not to mention.

He was a real good looking guy.

That is why he caught their eye.

The town bully had a girl.

The newcomer gave her a thrill.

She started giving him a lot of her time.

The bully found out and said ‘She’s mine.”

He took a swing at the newcomer.

The result was a real bummer.

The new guy moped up the floor with him.

Then,—- he said with a grin.

“I’m not here to steal your girl.”

“I am looking for Jeffery Till.”

“He lives just outside town.”

“What do you want with him?” he frowned.

“It’s my business and none of yours.”

“Stay out of it or do you want some more?”

The bully cowered and scooted away.

He would settle this another day.

The new comer found his way to Till’s place.

He had a grim look on his face.

“Mr Till, I want to talk to you.”

“I have things to tell you that are true.”

“Who are you?” Till said with a sneer.

“You’ll find out. Have no fear.”

“I knew your daughter before she died.”

“She missed you. She cried and cried.”

“She was raped and beaten badly”

“Died from her injuries.”  He said sadly.

“Before she died she asked me to find you.”

“To tell you she missed you and loved you to.”

“She told me how you threw her out.”

“She didn’t even know what it was all about.”

“Why did you throw her out on her ear Mr Till?”

“Yelling that you didn’t forgive her and never will.”

“She had no knowledge of why you were mad.”

“I know that you made her miserable and sad.”

Mr Till said  “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Run along now and find something else to do.”

“I loved your daughter and I’m not leaving.”

“I could beat your ass, the way I’m feeling.”

Mr Till backed up, all color leaving his face.

“You better talk or I won’t leave this place.”

“O.K., o.k. I found out she was pregnant.”

“She thought you wanted her to pay rent.”

“She was NOT pregnant. You made an error.”

“Dr’s checked her after her rape affair.”

“Where did you get the idea she was?”

“I read it in tea leaves.” He said in a rush.

“Why, you stupid old fart.”

“Your ignorant superstitions tore you two apart.”

“She died of injuries and a broken heart.”

“All she wanted in life was for you to be a part.”

Mr Till broke down in tears.

“What have I done? All these years.”

“I have always lived by the tea leaf readings.”
“Now, you bring me terrible greetings.”

“I will never read tea leaves again.”

“So be it.” Said the new guy. Then,

the bully and some friends arrived.

“Grab him boys. We’ll skin him alive.”

A hell of a fight broke out then.

Mr Till helped the new guy to win.

The bully and friends were knocked out.

“Get off my property” Mr Till did shout.

The bully and friends took off.

Mr Till gave a slight cough.

Mr. Till said “I didn’t catch your name.”

The new guy said “That’s o.k., just the same.”

“I’ll be going now. Thanks for your help.”

“I am sorry. I don’t know if it will help.”

“It does Mr Till. I pray that she knows.”

With that, he was gone down the road.

———————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

A Ghost Town Halloween

     A Ghost Town Halloween

I came into town after traveling far.

Thought I would stop at the local bar.

Get a little drink to quench my thirst.

After hours on the road, it was the worst.

 

I stepped in and looked around.

I was surprised at what I found.

A normal crowd for a Saturday night.

But, that wasn’t what gave me a fright.

 

They were all dressed up like ghosts.

Also skeletons and scary hosts.

A witch said it was for Halloween.

It all just seemed like a dream.

 

I ordered a drink & got a glass of blood.

I was shocked so he put it in a mug.

“What is this? I asked the keeper.

“A free drink” said another creature.

 

I asked “Is it a Bloody Mary?”

“No, this drink has a cherry.”

“We call it a Bloody Virgin.”

I tasted it, with some urging.

 

Then, some weird howling started.

Sounded like someone departed.

“Full moon. Werewolves are out.”

Then, outside, we heard a shout.

 

Then, a scream, like someone torn apart.

“Don’t go outside, if you are smart.”

I thought it was a joke, but maybe not.

I was shaking, yet, glued to the spot.

 

“What kind of a place is this? I asked.

“You’re in a ghost town.” Was gasped.

“Real ghosts, ghouls, and other things.”

“We come here on every Halloween”

 

My hand passed right through the ghost.

The ghoul was eating a human roast.

My feet were spinning , but I wasn’t moving.

“Stay around, it’s just getting groovy.”

 

“Let me out of here”, I screamed.

It was real,—– or so it seemed

They grabbed me and pulled me down.

I was sorry I stopped at this town.

 

I passed out. I thought I would be killed.

I woke up at dawn in a field.

I was at the outskirts of town.

A sign stated it was a ghost town.

 

My vehicle was parked nearby.

I got in and started to cry.

I wasn’t about to go back into town.

As quick as I could, I turned around.

 

I still don’t know if It happened or not.

People around let that town go to rot.

They told stories similar to mine.

Find some other way to spend my time.

 

Stay away from that ghost town.

You’d be better to drive around.

People have gone there & didn’t return.

You would think that people would learn.

 

I, for one, learned all I needed to know.

I don’t want to go back to that show.

I left that place far behind me that day.

On Halloween’s I find other places to play.

—————————R. W. Johnson—–(2016)

 

 

 

Leave The Past In The Past

 

        Leave The Past In The Past


He drifted into town. He stayed all alone.

No one knew where he called home.

He kept to himself. He liked it that way.

They say, it was likely, he wouldn’t stay.

He was a mountain of a man. Easy to spot.

Most tried to avoid him, likely as not.

Then came the day when men were crying.

The café caught fire & people were frying.

He ran in & carried people out.

Two at a time. He was stout.

He survived, but was badly burned.

He had little money, it was learned.

Through donations his bill was paid.

He got a job worth his pay grade.

He was called “Big Bad John,” after the song.

It wasn’t his name, but he went along.

One day he walked into church.

He sat in a pew like it was a perch.

He decided to tell the pastor. He was no fool.

He told the pastor his past, which no one knew.

The pastor turned white, while sitting in the pew.

Yet, he knew the story he was told was true.

“None of this is a sin by you, son.”

I Know”, he said, “Thy will be done.”

The pastor invited him to join the church.

He said he would, for what it is worth.

It wasn’t long till he became a deacon.

He accepted without even blinking.

He met his soul mate at the church.

They dated a year. He put her first.

The wedding was a lovely one.

The whole town came, just for the fun.

Within a year they had a little boy.

He grew like a weed. He was their joy.

He was a chip off his old man’s block.

Looked just like him. Solid as a rock.

Then, some bad men came to town.

They were following the son around.

One day they grabbed the son and tied him up.

They weren’t gentle. They treated him rough.

They called his dad and said “We have your son.”

“You tried to get away, but you could never run.”

“We hunted for you for years. Now, you are ours.”

“Your son will die if you don’t meet us at the bar.”

His past had caught up with him.

He knew that he had not done a sin.

But, he might now, if his son was hurt.

He flexed his muscles, which tore his shirt.

He went  to the bar. His son was there with them.

They immediately put a knife under his chin.

His son strained his bonds and broke free.

He started kicking ass on the closest creep.

Soon, father and son were mopping up the floor.

Till the bad guys couldn’t fight anymore.

They were turned over to the police.

They went to prison for kidnapping the son.

It was party time for everyone.

People shouted “Like father, like son.”

Soon, election time had begun.

The Dad was elected mayor on a write in.

Everyone felt real safe with him.

A deacon, mayor, hero, and local legend.

He was very proud to be their leader then.

His life was much better than his secretive past.

He only prayed daily that it would last.

———————————–R. W. Johnson—–(2016)