Long Warmer Poems
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Since the begining of days when my heart became an advocate of concrete paths, I have
come to understand the joys that are unprecipitated fears and the fears that are purpose.
For so long I have adapted to the muddy waters that breed beautiful roses with thorns of
such pure poison. Taking into my lungs the fresh air, this same air that is only fresh with the
will of foul principle, yet some how law. Speaking the language that has no sound and
somehow it is always too loud for its own good. Induction in the chase for things that keep
my temperature down in the summer while making the atmosphere a little warmer. Like
something chilly for my wrist ,neck, ears and hands. In the most artic of winters things that
keep me warm like having a personal zoo, mink, chinchilla, fox, rabbit, beaver, and ostich
and yet winters are still so cold. Realizing that somehow winters burn the soul, as summers
tend to freeze the heart. Love is the sound of nature and its remeberance of present. Eagles
scream through the air, colts break the pavement with 38 and 45 calibers of pressure. The
floating of land crafts with special made wheels, stars, spokes, claws, blades, all in chrome
reflecting the spite of happiness in this life. Delicate feminims that perform the sweetest of
actions with the audacity to control the wheather of man. Sunny days, cloudy months, and
years of storm. Pleasure is found everywhere and yet it is never found, so pain is the
blessing of that same pleasure seeked. With each passing day I appear cleaner, except for
my work related smudges(from the parkway to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the
community). All the things I want I have and still I have nothing. Today has been here a
thousand times and only once,tomorrow will pass as yesterday returns. This is where the
truest kisses come from angels, yet the only blessings are from the breath of the demon.
This is home, the city of hustle in the divided states of atrocity. So much passionate turmoil,
so much un-affordable affection that is afforded by price and un-conditional purpose. As the
tears of an infant blend with the crying of the clouds this waters brings hope of a changed
existence. One that is the best life, not heaven or hell, not paradise, but life as it could be,
life in a drop...a single drop... Of Rain Water! Live, Suffer, Celebrate!
Form:
I'm here to take the lower approach
To what I was ordained to coach.
I'm no Preacher,
But He did put me here to teach you.
I'm not inveighing;
I'm just saying
That the only way through life is by praying.
Everyone seems to want to be a sinful conformer,
While the depths of hell get fuller and warmer.
Death and time, still succeeding the former.
See I'm a Poet
And as a person who does believe,
I perceive what others have forgotten to see.
Prosecuted not by we,
But by the persons my ancestors plotted to be.
And now I find myself trying
To figure out why you'll think I'm lying
When I reveal that what is born today,
Tomorrow will be dying.
I've seen many "joyous" christians
Everyday on thier knees crying.
Repentant of the sins Flesh had them denying.
Unwilling to make the bed
They chose to lie in.
Well predict your life on what your perceptions have been prying.
Forgetful of the One who can take
The dreariest,
Weariest,
Rainy, that drains me
Weather
And turn it into something
Sunny,
Bright,
And lovely
To make things better.
Kinda like unchanging youth
Resting on the skin like morning dew.
Now don't prosecute me for my truthful depiction.
Grinning at me with an afflicted conviction.
I'm just tryna pull you in my direction
And get you ready for the next resurrection.
Cause there will be one
Right under the blue sky:
The return of the Son!
And I can't wait.
Fate...is what Faith...is real
That crucifix around ya neck,
That's not the real deal.
It might be real steel,
But it didn't bless you with that real good meal
You ate last night.
Look at it like this:
People subdue to materialism
Thru a metaphysical way of
Praising Him.
But a faithful Christian gets blessed
Despite of "we," "she," "her," and "them"
Because in His word, He stressed:
"Blessed is the man that walks not in
the cousel of the ungodly, nor stands in
the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of
the scornful; but his delight is in the law of the Lord"
And that is blessed.
Read the book of Psalms if you need to hear the rest.
I'm not disdaining any reproach,
Like I warned you before,
I'm only here to coach
With the soul purpose to reproach,
Your processes with the lessons
And confessions
My Father had laid upon me
With CAREFUL discretion.
So to you from me:
Be Blessed, Be Faithful, and Be Ready
When America bombed Hiroshima our city,
Three days later without pity,
They bombed Nagasaki and ruined the city.
Killed at least 200,000 people.
It was a normal day.
We were all going either to work, or school.
That day, I was very excited because
I was chosen to be “it” for hide and seek.
I was counting down, when I saw
A big ball of light that came out of the sky.
It was getting larger and brighter.
Warmer and louder.
And all of a sudden,
Boom!!!
I felt like I was falling…….
The school building was crashing under my feet.
I heard kids crying,
And I felt pain and blood all over my body.
I felt somebody carrying me.
A soldier………
He carried me to a safe place,
Where I could be healed.
But, there wasn’t really any safe place.
Being carried around,
I saw dead bodies all around me,
Burned to ashes.
Those who were still alive,
Were screaming for help.
And more…….screaming from pain.
I saw a mother who was trying to help her kid.
The kid was screaming his throat out for his mother.
“Mom, Help me….. Mom where are you”
The fire was eating him without mercy.
Not able to help him,
His mother cried and said
“Sorry…..I am so sorry. I am a bad mother”………
The city that was 15 minutes ago full of life.
Was now full of nothing but ashes and a RED ocean.
You couldn’t recognize people anymore,
Nor buildings.
Those who where still alive were wishing to die.
They were hungry and thirsty.
And they were ALL in pain.
Yet, there wasn’t really any body to help them,
Nor any food or water to drink and eat.
After about 6 hours,
It started to rain.
The rain was as dark as the dead bodies,
But nobody cared.
They were so happy that they finally found water.
They didn’t know it contains acid.
Moreover,
They didn’t care.
They drank and drank.
And people started to get poisoned,
And died.
August 1945.
When my people lost their life.
A day that can’t be forgotten.
Nor can have another discussion.
August 6, 1945.
When America bombed Hiroshima our city.
Three days later without pity,
They bombed Nagasaki and ruined the city.
Killed at least 200,000 people,
And ended the war.
With a big smile and a party,
More with no heart.
Form:
If my poetry moves you to witness to stranger
Just know that I'm touched that you're "sharing my ride,"
For the fact is that giving can be fraught with danger,
But those that it calls feel much warmer inside!
I have so little knowledge to call my invention
Some came from my parents, from people I've met
But the gift of the spirit defies all convention
It's holy, profound, precious gift without debt.
Even muse I call gift, for it waters my soul's growth,
An alternate path that the spirit can take
Truth that's flavored by strangers, by loved ones, I've seen both,
Fresh air never sweeter, Grace purges mistake!
Spirit truth has no owner like jewel or gold dust,
It's one with Creation; you'll know it by feel.
Although Midas (1) got gold, all his love turned to soul rust,
The gift of the Spirit is simply to heal!
Brian Johnston
June 13, 2017
Poet's Notes:
(1) From Greek mythology - Wikipedia
"One day, as Ovid relates in Metamorphoses, Dionysus found that his old schoolmaster and foster father, the satyr Silenus, was missing. The old satyr had been drinking wine and wandered away drunk, to be found by some Phrygian peasants who carried him to their king, Midas (alternatively, Silenus passed out in Midas' rose garden). Midas recognized him and treated him hospitably, entertaining him for ten days and nights with politeness, while Silenus delighted Midas and his friends with stories and songs. On the eleventh day, he brought Silenus back to Dionysus in Lydia. Dionysus offered Midas his choice of whatever reward he wished. Midas asked that whatever he might touch should be changed into gold.
Midas rejoiced in his new power, which he hastened to put to the test. He touched an oak twig and also a stone; both turned to gold. Overjoyed, as soon as he got home, he touched every rose in the rose garden, and all became gold. He ordered the servants to set a feast on the table. Upon discovering how even the food and drink turned into gold in his hands, he regretted his wish and cursed it. Claudian states in his In Rufinem: "So Midas, king of Lydia, swelled at first with pride when he found he could transform everything he touched to gold; but when he beheld his food grow rigid, and his drink harden into golden ice then he understood that this gift was a bane and in his loathing for gold, cursed his prayer."
Dedicated in memory of Mr Dangerfield, Rodney.
He was a comic few will ever forget.
He is most known probably for his classic routine;
"I Don't Get No Respect.
When I was born the doctor delivered to my parents the very sad news.
"We tried everything, but I'm sorry, he managed to pull through."
I Don't Get No Respect.
I remember taking my first steps so vividly
and then dear old Dad tripping me.
I Don't Get No Respect.
I asked Dad if I could go ice skating on the lake with all of the others.
He then said to me, "Wait until it gets warmer."
I Don't Get No Respect.
My mother practiced this form of birth control constantly.
Whenever Dad wanted sex, she'd show him a picture of me.
I Don't Get No Respect.
"I lost my parents. Do you think we'll ever find them?" I cried.
"I don't know," said the policeman, "There's so many places they can hide."
I Don't Get No Respect.
In the kidnapper's note to my parents for ransom
it read, "Give us five thousand dollars or you'll see your kid again."
I Don't Get No Respect.
Last night, my wife wearing a sexy negligee met me at our front door all alone.
There's just one problem with this scenario. She was coming home.
I Don't Get No Respect.
My wife phoned and said, "Come on over. There's nobody home."
When I arrived, guess what? There was nobody home.
I Don't Get No Respect.
During sex my wife always wants to talk to me.
She called me from a hotel recently.
I Don't Get No Respect.
One day I came home from work early
and saw a man run naked jogging past me.
I asked, "Why are you jogging naked buddy?"
He replied, "Because you came home early."
I Don't Get No Respect.
"What'll ya have?" the bartender asked me.
Indecisive I replied, "Just surprise me."
So he pulled out a naked photo of my wife for me to see.
I Don't Get No Respect.
I went to a hooker, thinking it might be nice.
When I dropped my pants, she dropped her price.
I Don't Get No Respect.
My psychiatrist said that I'm going crazy.
"I'd like a second opinion," I replied to she.
"Very well," she said, "You're also ugly."
I Don't Get No Respect
I told my psychiatrist, "I'm going to kill myself when I get the chance."
She told me I'll have to start paying her well in advance.
I Don't Get No Respect.
No Respect At All.
I've had enough of all of this.
This is my final curtain call."
I search for words
To describe this feeling...
After you told me
You hate me...
I remember when
I went swimming in the ocean
One day in January...
Ice was curled in elaborate design
Of wind-blown swirls on the sand...
Snowflakes mixed with grains of sand
And bitter wind blew both into my face-
Sea foam blew across the beach
Like stray, sodden mushroom clouds
And the ocean waves were dark
And angry...
It was so cold, this January...
But I wasn't scared.
That day, I had I thought of
The ocean in autumn;
When I swam last in autumn,
It was October, and the
Wind was harsh and strong;
Waves were wild with
The fresh memory of stormclouds,
So they crested high and broke hard
On the beach...
The sun hadn't shone that day either.
The water, when I dove into it,
Was cold, but warmer than the air-
Vicious to look at,
But under the surface of the waves
Still gentle as summer...
Familiar...
I had gone back in more than once
Just because I loved the feel,
The pull of the current, the raw energy
Of the water against my skin,
And I dove through waves again
And again...
I knew it would be worse this time,
A few months later
And so many degrees colder...
I almost decided not to do it
When I peeled off my coat,
My shirt, my boots, pants, and socks...
The wind bit my skin hard, tearing
Into my warm body, and the gound,
Icy, was like bared teeth against the soles
Of my feet...
Too late to back out now.
So I ran, barefoot, over ice-ringed
Puddles of seawater and snow-flecked sand...
I reached the water, the first soft waves...
I was slowed by the foamy surf,
Which, only knee-deep, was a strong deterrent,
But then I was past it, and I dove...
That first, frigid, smack in the face
As the water closed over my head
Stole all heat, all memory of heat,
From my body all in an instant...
I surfaced gasping in shock,
Heart about to either stop or burst-
I'm still not sure which,
All I could think of was the cold...
It was so cold...
Colder than anything I've ever known...
I retreated clumsily-
I should have recoiled from the ground,
Stepping quickly and lightly
Over cruelly sharp grains of
Equally mixed ice and sand,
But I could no longer feel the cold...
I could feel nothing...
Could think nothing...
When you told me you hate me...
It felt like that.
FEEL AFRICA
Silence!
Silence Africa!
One can hardly get Africa to be silent;
Africa habours a pulsating bubble.
Everyone in Africa bounces to rhythm resilient.
Africa, like Zambia, or
Zambia, like Africa;
Dear ones, whichever comes first
Swells with energy in the sun!
You see not the pulse;
You feel every ounce.
Feel it now!
Woo! Woo! Is it fun or funny?
Africa loves to dance.
The continent is one huge drum;
One complete dance!
They work hard too.
Mothers and daughters,
Fathers and sons;
Mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law
Of Africa work hard
They fetch water; they collect wood.
They pound corn; they cook their food.
In all their creation,
People of Africa have one ingredient;
SONG!
You hear them sing while pounding corn.
Phew! Phew! Wow!
At funerals we sing and dance,
At weddings, even more song and dance.
Nothing has ever stopped Africa from dancing;
Yes! Even the tragedies we’ve known;
The genocides and ethnic cleansings,
in the heart of the continent.
Apartheid in the Cape of Good Hope;
Starvation, hunger, war;
Famines, droughts and floods
In the great lakes and the horn of Africa!
We have mourned;
We have questioned!
Mmmh! Courage!
Courage is what kept us alive.
We felt like throwing it away;
Accepting defeatist tendencies;
Choose revenge; and hurt;
Not with Africa.
We have come out reassured.
We have emerged tested in fire;
More finer and stronger than before
We can afford to pray!
We are like lions; the pride of the universe.
Our pride lies in our landscapes; the mountains
And the valleys;
the plateaus and the savannahs.
Free flowing rivers,
Connect us with worlds near and far.
We accommodate strangers as our rivers instruct.
Strangers of the Indian and Atlantic Oceans;
The seas and lakes!
They brought the world to us
as they did bring us to the world;
the Zambezi, the Nile and the Congo.
They have made us larger than we have ever been.
We can join in the songs and dances of others
As they can join ours too.
Come join us; feel at home!
Feel Africa!
One Zambia, my dear one;
The little star of copper.
You shine deep in the heart of the continent;
Warming the cold and frightened neighbours!
The blessing you are is the blessing you offer.
You exemplify unity in multiplicity,
Of languages and ethnicity;
Be not afraid copper star.
Shine as bright as you do;
Only warmer!
All rights reserved.
I smile whenever I see your face.
I feel warmer when you are with me, even in the coldest place.
I crumble whenever your arms wrap around me.
You are my deepest desire, something that I have been longing for.
Something that I feel will set me free.
I love the way your muscles ripple
And how tight they feel when you hold me close.
The warmth I get from that alone.
Makes me think of I feel when I'm at home.
I love the way you are, your whole attire
It reminds me of why you are my deepest desire.
When you talk, I try my best to listen.
But I can't get over the way your eyes glisten.
I envy those who are closest to you.
Most times I feel as though I should just tell you the truth.
I choose not to, for I fear of how you would react.
Or maybe even just attack.
I resist the temptation, to show you how I really feel.
Then I check myself again
And think is this really real?
I ask myself, maybe if I was older
Maybe if I was wiser
I might just have the chance
To be with my deepest desire.
It's hard, trying to deal with the feelings I have for you.
I guess I should just be patient
and see later on if what ever it is that I'm feeling is even true.
Or maybe I should just go for someone else whose more around my youth.
Cause the agonizing pain of waiting and waiting
Makes me think, is patients really a virtue?
Then again the more you appear in my mind.
Makes me saddened at the thought
That you may never be by my side.
I guess I will continue to hide.
The feelings that I keep deep inside.
My heart will forever be on the fence.
And my mind will forever sit on the bench.
Pondering over what I'm feeling for you.
However i may need help, even if it's something as simple as a clue.
Because this is more complicated, than I ever expected.
Mostly caused by my fear of being rejected.
I feel as though if you finally find out what I'm thinking
You may never want to see me again
And my heart will end up sinking.
It's always scary for me
To tell someone about who I am
Or what I want to be.
Yes, it is decided.
I refuse to let you know.
I refuse to reveal my secret.
Or reveal someone that I hardly show.
Maybe one day, you will feel the same way.
So until then, or not at all
This thought will forever hang on a wire
For you will always be my deepest desire.
Memories of Our Summer Romance: A Collaboration
Today I've been savoring vignettes of summer memories
that I've kept folded within the safe haven of my heart.
Your comforting touch, warmer than a summer breeze
was my purpose in life; contained in my every thought.
I cherished all of our twilight saunters along the beach,
and recall the tenderness of your lips with each gentle kiss.
The distance between us, you were the first to breach.
But I never expected our summer romance to end like this.
Our lust for life and each other shifted by summer's end.
We'd fallen in love, one stronger than granite, we vowed.
A small plastic ring, you placed upon my finger as a friend,
then whispered, "I love you." You said the words aloud.
Even mountains made of stone can erode and fall apart.
Time takes its toll, leaving behind brittle parts of the past.
How do I explain to the ache still inside my bruised heart
that some summer romances were never meant to last?
This eager heart remembers your kisses and softest touch.
Those mellow new dawns upon the windblown sandy beach.
That long moonlit night when I declared, "I love you so much."
And you my darling, that night swore better love to me teach!
I cherished the way you promised to give me your beautiful life.
You stood in that pale blue gown awaiting my affectionate kiss,
Swearing by every means, you would end my hurt and strife.
It is of these precious recollections that I choose to reminisce.
O' lord, every fairy princess, your beauty would've out shown.
You swore to me an oath of love as if it was your marriage vow.
I beg, tell me why you left me like a wind turned hellish blown?
Was our love making the kind that disappointed you somehow?
A promise of us eternally has now crumbled like a fallen fence
And every newborn basking dawn capsized like a sinking boat.
You, my sweetheart, were you not truly happy with this prince?
Are memories of us together just verses of poems I once wrote?
A collaboration by Robert Lindley and Lin Lane
Note. Lin, it has indeed been a true joy to compose with you again.
Your magnificent verses sing into this old poet's heart and soul.
The beauty and heart you put into those verses are truly exceptional and very evident of a master poet's hand and pen. God bless.
If time travel were possible,
the period I would want to visit most of all
would be that time long ago,
when Europe was covered with snow.
When we walked Among the Neanderthal.
Two different species of human,
but still very much the same.
Our common ancestor evolved differently
due to climate and terrain.
*****Heidelbergensis emerged out of Africa
into Europe and Western Asia,
but then the ice age came and the species became segregated
due to vast deserts, seas and glacier.
The ice age gripped Northern Europe.
Polar conditions were most of the continent.
*****Heidelbergensis then evolved into the cold adapted Neanderthal
and became Europe's only human resident.
The Neanderthals were territorial and they lived in small family clans.
Limestone caves provided most with shelter,
it was a limited resource upon this frozen land.
The caves the Neanderthals lived in were the center of the Neanderthal’s universe.
Within the cave walls, the Neanderthals would bury their dead and give birth.
Within the cave walls they would eat, they would sleep.
Within the cave walls they would butcher their meat.
Within the cave walls they would groom, they would mate.
Within the cave walls they would even defecate.
Within the cave walls was the safest place to be.
Outside was the harshest climate known to humanity,
in an unforgiving terrain filled with wild animals stalking them,
as well as Neanderthal males stalking other clan’s women.
Neanderthal clans did not interact with each other at all
and this was perhaps their biggest and greatest downfall.
Limited contact meant limited viewpoints and limited exchanges of ideas,
and so the Neanderthal's limited survival techniques
remained the same throughout their years,
But meanwhile,
back in sub tropical Africa, somewhat simultaneously,
*****Heidelbergensis evolved into a warm adapted human.
*****sapiens, Us, You and Me,
As the climate grew warmer we too migrated up north
into the Neanderthal’s stronghold.
Neanderthal extinction was about to come forth.
Within a few thousand years, the Neanderthal ceased to exist.
The small size of their clans made them vulnerable.
They couldn't confront or protect or resist.
To continue click NEXT for Among The Neanderthal Part 2