Long Street sign Poems

Hello Issaquena
by Curtis Johnson

The county seat, humidity, and musical beats. 
After many years, I went to visit my hometown,
Hoping to walk down memory lanes of warm treats,        ...

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I was driving on Confused Avenue, only to find a T section at the end of the Avenue, I had to turn left, turn right, or simply just turn around.
	I sat in my car, to...

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I was in between jobs at the time and running short of cash,
so without a need to now explain my future don’t look flash.
I tramped from door to door to plead my unemployment case
in a...

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My mind awakens
to this extravagant pull
  like being jerked
when standing to close
to a jet engine starting.
I feel my top rise,
   mind diving
      for the feel of the...

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I was there 
On my way to Laflin when the 55th and Garfield bus slowed down.
He should have been passed out from excitement like other 10 year olds playing 
football in vacant lots,basketball in streets,...

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You are a rocket and you are a star. 
What am I? Is it ok to stand here?
My gaze is sliding through a cookie jar. 
That's how I deal with it. Two palak paneer!

And please...

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A Little Boy’s World
By Curtis Johnson

When I was a little boy, I was always well behaved.  Well, most of the time.
Being honest and respectful is the way I was raised; not to be mean,...

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~Woody Wood From the Hood~

Deep, inside yourself, you walk a sour way of life,
Carving my name, on every tree with a hunting knife
You log in, then log out
A Birdman So Fickle, he Stinks of doubt!

Blind...

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/
He stands on his corner of the street
Born to a life full of lies
Somehow he manages no sign of defeat
The city sees another dark face, no trace of the child inside
Leaving his country to sell...

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I never did do very well with survival. 
I used to yell by choice at life expecting an echo 
to call back and fall in love with my voice.
Before I fell asleep I'd dig so...

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Street sign


A walk through life
Is a wake up call to reality 
I walked many paths 
Most of them without any direction 
But still I walked

Even when life got me down 
I Always remembered to crawl...

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Do you want to talk or keep quiet?
I always have a problem with this
I talk too much
And I like to share
I always like to blobber my mouth
and sometimes I say more things than I should...

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In my dark night’s reality,

I awoke on a beautiful morning

with my garment starched and standing

firm just like the mighty iroko.

walking to and fro life’s avenue;

searching for a street sign that says

SUCCESS AVENUE.

yet nothing I could...

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We walk about bristly in the heat of the day,not knowing when it will happen.
Some watch mere predictions on picture screens before setting out to complete routine tasks;
but who is to say what will happen...

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its tin metal somewhat mangled 
            from a moving van that fetched impairment
twisted signage of thin charm
       ...

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I used to get mistletoe 
Each and every year
Lost the man who brought to me
But I knew it had to be near.

Load up the kids
In an ugly old van
Chains, food, and blankets
Who needs a man?

We...

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the very tip of the flame, the

color of shite journalism, “stars

of spectral classes f & g,” a ripe

banana peel, piss full of vitamins

being flushed out, ring around the

collar, chats n’ shafted flickers n’

hammers n’ warblers,...

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Reading is fundamental
That’s what I like to do
It stimulates my mind,
No matter what I read
Reading should be incorporated
In everybody’s daily routine
A lot of people might not understand
Why I’m saying this
But most of the people do
They...

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Seven pigeons sitting cold in the snow,
upon a street sign trembling;
and the snow is falling.

As if on cue they fly on snowy wings,
circling the city buildings;
till a safe ledge is found.

Beautiful they smooth their heavy...

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Seven pigeons sitting cold in the snow,
upon a street sign trembling;
and the snow is falling.

As if on cue they fly on snowy wings,
circling the city buildings;
till a safe ledge is found.

Beautiful they smooth...

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Watching this colourful stream of lives passing by children without a care ? Moving
Along as making my way to the library aneath mid-morning's shade; her breezeway
Splashed another poetic palette; trying to avoid these clichés stepping...

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The crossroads made of fire

I walked my share of crossroads
But this path was mine to bare,
The street sign made of brimstone
And sulfur lingered in the air.
The journey made me weary
Voices heckled in the dark,
Depressed and...

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Four Crows on 76th Street


High above the intersection,
Four Crows look out on the rest of us.
Some of us stop at their light, some of us
turn right or left.
The Four Crows watch all this and nudge
each...

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Black are the clouds
that sweep from the sea,
crashing through trees
to thrash toward me


Objects are flying
the air is alive,
a storm that rumbles
in sheets it arrives


A roof is walking
without any soles,
and the pants of priests
hang off light...

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