Long Johnson Poems
Long Johnson Poems. Below are the most popular long Johnson by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Johnson poems by poem length and keyword.
Unafraid of hits on my life by
the mafia Ciro Gargano arson
murderer it's been a hit on my
life since Christmas eve 1984
tailor shop murders inc. go
ahead Ciro hit me again how
about another assassination
attempt or go all the way out
with another bomb in my face
now that was very effective right
traumatic brain injury just so you
and Jamaican jay townsend
Johnson Henry could extort
my american poetry murder me
for witnessing the plotting
of arson murder of 9 people
hit me Ciro Gargano go ahead
and hit me again I will never
ever fear organized crime
corruption abuse of power
bullying intimidating me in
American
Let me tell you about the best year of the 20th Century, a year that was great.
It was the year when my mom was born and that year was 1948.
That was the greatest year of the 20th Century, that's how I feel.
1948 was great but 2013 sucked because of a terrible ordeal.
2013 was a terrible year because that was when Mom died.
After she perished in the hospital, I came home and cried.
Please listen to this advice, don't ever take your mom for granted, she's somebody who you should always appreciate.
If I live to be a hundred, I will not change my opinion, I believe that the greatest year of the 20th Century was 1948.
[Dedicated to Agnes Greene-Johnson (1948-2013) who passed away on March 6, 2013.]
He was turbulent, fearful, and a dipsomaniac. He was dead to the target, undeniable emulation of his father. So I've been told.
Equated with many of his uneducated and socially stigmatized peers, starting at an early age he worked menial jobs until he married and asserted himself to a position on a cargo ship as a Merchant Seaman. So I've been told.
He traveled the world and had many long tales to share. Tales when spread made him a hero of many causes, and these inflated tales rein the peninsula and many compared him with John Henry and Jack Johnson. So I've been told.
He was a tall sepia man with a handsome face that was divinely chiseled to the image of Hermes. So I've been told.
He was a courageous bull that suffered his demise at the hands of his enemy. So I've been told.
He was a vigorous bear with broad shoulders that expanded forever like the Baeke plateau and was a comforting pillow for my weary head.
His legs when stretched out from a sitting position was a nuisance, a tripping device for a young child whose vision was aimed high when walking by.
He smelled of stale tobacco and Old Spice.
His tatami cheeks pricked fingers to the touch with delightful pain.
His long fingers with soil underneath its horny protective covering could move swiftly over finger plates of a saxophone or skillfully up and down the fretted neck of a guitar if he, so willed. Yet he titillated my ribs, under my arms and the soles of my feet.
His voice vociferated like thunder at his adversaries and changed to an astonishing softer degree when he called my name. This I know and so you are now being told.
copyright Labyrinth of Life
What I Want For Christmas
By Curtis Johnson
I suppose I could use a new pair of pants, a suit of cloths, a coat, or a light jacket. But that is not what I want. I don’t need new front teeth, but I suppose that I’d be happy with a nice new Volvo. But that’s not what I want. So please don’t ask me about needs and wants, because the media keeps me occupied with such things.
When I consider the plight of the lonely, the wounded, and the poor, I suppose that I would be happy if I received nothing at all. I would not complaint if I were simply blessed to be alive, fed, dry, and warm.
It’s Christmas, and there are always many things that people seek. Christmas is a season to draw near, to be dear, and to show love outside of the box. It’s even more meaningful if we keep it simple, avoid all the fuss, the rush, the stress, and maybe spend a little bit less.
There really is something that I would like for Christmas, but it’s more to do with giving to others and nothing to do with personal getting. It doesn’t cost a lot of money or a lot of time; and I don’t have to camp out in front of a store or form a long line. It’s like this: I want to see my family get together on Christmas eve, enjoy one another, have a nice meal, and share a gift or two. I want the satisfaction of knowing that two families in Uganda, Africa will eat on Christmas Day, because my wife and I sent money to them on December 3rd.
Christmas doesn’t have to cost much, if we would stop the rush, and cease buying so much of such and such. This blessed Christmas season, I would like to recapture three captivating moments that I experienced as a little boy at Christmas time.
I would like to recapture the aroma of my mama’s fresh baked cakes and pies at Christmas time. I would like to recapture the magnificent fragrance of apples and oranges throughout our house at Christmas time. And I would like to recapture the pleasant look on my daddy’s face after he had done his best to make all 12 of his children happy at Christmas time.
The blessedness of family life, and being able to give a little love outside the box.
Recapturing the aroma of mama’s baking, the fragrance of fruit, and daddy’s face at Christmas time. Some things in life are costly, but what I want most for Christmas is priceless.
Cj121107
To the most Heavenly of YOUR Angels, “LENORE ELLEN”
C / O my Higher Power, the Supreme Almighty Being; “GOD”
North-East-South-West : Present-Past-Future : Up-Down : Left-Right
1 FOREVER-ETERNITY LANE , HEAVEN
11111nth
MY DEAREST, BELOVED LENORE : “Nubbies” : I miss YOU so much.
I hear YOUR Sultry voice, see YOUR Angelic face, feel YOUR Delicate touch.
I smell YOUR Womanly Fragrance : Caress and brush YOUR long Auburn hair.
I see YOUR sexy wiggle as YOU go walking by, in YOUR Silky naked skin so fair
I see YOUR smiling Rosa lips : Hypnotized by YOUR beckoning Green Eyes.
My Heartbeats’ every second, is Dedicated to YOU : You dry the Tears of “CRIES”
I know I should have written sooner,but the language of “GLORY “ I do not Know
I was afraid that the earthly words for Happiness and LOVE : to GOD I could not
Show
Many years I’ve asked myself What did our Heavenly Father say
about “WOODSTOCK”
YOUR Greeneyed Soul is with HIM: When I get to “PEARLY GATE” I do not see a
lock
Thank YOU GOD: what a Hell it would be, I could never see My Heartbeat, My
LOVE
LENORE== Never again hear HER POETRY, never again know HER sweet LOVE
I shall write again :(SOON : to YOU in Heaven) to me forever long, August 25 at
noon
OUR ANNIVERSARY
With every Heartbeat, Every Breath of Life, waiting to be with YOU again
"Nubbies" LOVE FOREVER and ETERNITY YOUR Husband
Harry D.Johnson
In LOVING MEMORY of LENORE ELLEN ADAMS JOHNSON
November 4 , 1951--- August 25 , 1971
Dedicated to My Mentor: CAROL BROWN
Dedicated to My POETIC LOVE: Jill Martin
The road to Rio ran his every day
Aerobic fitness was his daily way
The lactic acid ate his muscle mass,
but soon the aching pains began to pass
The win reward a fine line to the tape
He fought the fight to get into best shape
He made his time to take him to the start,
to peak his strength and win the race an art
Just five circles his only dream tattoo,
or maybe under forty three will do
A gold the prize for him, a life reward
it looked so easy, Wayde’s new world record
He lived the dream a life in golden hope,
but ductile gold a sweet success tightrope
-A tribute to Wayde van Niekerk’s new world record in the 400m almost breaking 43 s yesterday. The record was held by Michael Johnson and was 16 years old-
I have attempted to capture my favorite major league baseball players in this little shape poem of home plate. Included are (in no particular order):
Say Hey Willie Mays Walter Johnson (Big Train)
Randy Johnson (The Big Unit) Babe Ruth (The Sultan Of Swat)
Tony Gwynn Jimmie Foxx
Ted Williams Maury Wills
Stan “The Man” Musial Johnny Bench
Ken Griffey Jr Greg Maddox
Henry Aaron Lou Gehrig
Roberto Clemente Ty Cobb
Satchell Paige Ernie Banks
Rickey Henderson Carl Yastrzemski (Yaz)
Trevor Hoffman Albert Pujols
Gibson (Bob and Josh) Honus Wagner
Rogers Hornsby Cal Ripken
Robinson (Jackie, Frank and Brooks)
Some favorites I had to leave out…
Christy Mathewson Warren Spahn
Sandy Koufax Tom Seaver
Mickey Mantle Rod Carew
Joe Morgan Ozzie Smith
Mariano Rivera Miguel Cabrera
Pedro Martinez Ichiro Suzuki
David Ortiz Jose Altuve
I’d love to see your faves mentioned in the comments section!
written 24 Aug 2020
It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb.
Your death has brought about tears, despair and gloom.
Usually pregnancies last nine months but you had a longer wait.
You carried me for ten months, I was a month late.
From the day I was born until the day you died, we shared a special bond.
You were always there for me and I'm still unhappy because you're gone.
You didn't deserve to suffer the way you did, what a horrible fate.
The doctors did all they could but you went to the hospital too late.
I didn't know what I had until I lost it and I lost you too soon.
It was forty-three years ago today when I left your womb.
[Dedicated to Agnes Johnson (1948-2013) who gave birth to me 43 years ago today.]
I awoke early that morning as Venus is fading from dawn's sky.
Watching sun rays skate upon the mirror of ripples,gently flowing by.
On the deck of a Princess ship, suspended between the Heaven and the sea.
The mirage of a double Sunrise,as the sun shone upon itself and me.
Today is the day I say "I DO", take thee as my Wife: for the Eons of Eternity.
Bible in hand, the captain stands in Dress Whites, as does his loyal crew.
Arm and arm with daddy,as he gives her unto me; to start a life of Love anew.
Her emerald eyes try hiding behind a transparent Pure White vail; only to fail
Her auburn hair is dancing below her shapely hips: I long to kiss her Rosa lips
Do YOU take this woman"Lenore Ellen Adams" as Your Always and Forever Wife.
I Do echos across the Caribbean Sea. I Do reverberates in the bright Blue sky. "I DO"
Inspired by Dan Kearley's Contest :"One Of Your Greatest Days
Dedicated in Loving Memory of "My LIFE, My LOVE, My FOREVER, MY WIFE
"Lenore Ellen (Adams) Johnson - Nov. 4, 1951 - August 25, 1971
Okay, I must admit - no names have been changed to protect anything or anyone! PLEASE do not turn this political and no letters from any woman who might be offended or grievances from union members, this is something that should have been addressed long ago but thankfully we have righted the ship. Just a note for clarification - scientists call them "Coccinellidae", North America calls them ladybugs, the UK calls them ladybirds (no offense to the Johnson family)...other names are lady beetles, god's cow, lady clock and lady cow (the one that might offend women) I DIDN"T INVENT THE NAME - some thankfully long deceased scientist did! Anyhow I know you needed to know this...I'm a victim too - I peed on an electric cow (no pun or fun) fence in the fourth grade.
Oh, little bitty lady cow,
our fabled friend coccinellidae,
what will they call you now?!
Bring us luck, away you fly,
quickly now before you die.
Oh, black dotted ladybird,
our lady beetle garden friend,
everywhere your name is heard;
on your help we can depend
and all the lady luck you lend.
BUT there's a problem in the air;
ladybird, lady beetle, lady this, lady that.
The guy bugs say, "It's just not fair"!
So after a beetle union chat,
on their guy bug butts they sat.
So this year everything will change-
those changes have been made before;
so Person Beetle will be the new bug name.
After all, no reason to start a war
when correctness will equate the score...
written April 2013 - still work to do