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Best Grobb Johnson Poems

Below are the all-time best Grobb Johnson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Grobb Johnson Poems

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem


When most all you've had's been taken,
and the rest all took off and gone.
Been misused and abused,
for so, so long.
When you work so hard,
for all of your day.
Just to take what you make
and have it stripped away.

When it's all been burned
after enough lessons learned.
After everything you ever loved
has been stolen, lost or died
and your eyes have become
permanently dried.
Then your wants, your needs,
your thoughts on these,
your ideas and beliefs.
Well they start to change.

You might see things for what they are.
A home is your home,
and a car is just a car.
Your priorities might differ from before
Become satisfied with what you have
not always wanting more.
Things taken for granted
now desired the most.
Things not thought of
now held so close.

To be warm and dry
and not be hungry
is all I really need
in order to be happy.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem


Down in the dark
where we live and we breathe.
in a place where most,

could never believe.
Through the smoke and the dust
by our blood and the rust.
Hear the clanging of steel
and in your chest you can feel.
the rumbling of the ground
with it's menacing sound
for where no one has been
is where our treasures be found.

We truck and we toil
we muck and we moil.
May our luck it be royal
and not leave us

stuck in the soil.

For the path that we walk
which leaves us unseen
tucked far away
down in some machine.
Isolated from all
and free at our most
but not free at all
for the shadow
is always close.

Stalking and waiting
for mistakes you'll be making.
It's grip near your neck
reaching for a wreck

But you must be better
and play your cards right.
If you're gonna forever
live where it's night
and on the top of your head
is your one light
and your only chance,
to win this fight

So when the blast sounds off
and you can't chase that cough
when it's strange to see no dirt under your nails
and you no longer care,

for telling tales

Get yourself some sleep,
you'll be up with the sun.
Cause tomorrow.
There's much more work to be done.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

The Lurking

What was that sound?
what was that noise?
There in the dark.
Was that a voice?
That faintly creeping,
encroaching tone.
my feeling tells me,
I'm not alone.

It must be the wind
or the house settling in.
Nothing is there,
there's nothing but air.
I Turn my head and close my eyes
Then here comes, a new surprise.

First a scratching,
then a fall.
Outside my door,
there in the hall.
The sound of something being drug.
I grab my blanket, pull it snug.
Then it's over, but then there's more
So terrifying, the simple creaking of the door.

Did it just open?
No, no, I just need some sleep.
I just won't look,
not one peep.
Almost off to dream
almost clear and free.
Then a raspy voice
with an invitation just for me.

Just go away,
just leave me be.
What do you want?
And why from me?
I'll close my eyes,
I'll try to hide.
The door slams shut.
Has it come inside?

Are those shadows moving?
No, no it went away.
Then four words.
"I'm here to stay."
My chest is pounding,
it knows I'm here.
It knows that I'm aware.
So in floods the fear.

I hear it moving closer.
I feel it's breath upon me.
Starting at my feet,
then working up so slowly.
I feel it's touch.
The fear's too much.
Paralyzed by the chill,
A few words I'm able to spill.

"What do you want?"
"What do you want," I say.
To which it replies
"I just want you,
and I want to play."

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

When We Were Young

I remember precisely how perfect it was.
When every answer was simply, just because.
How we spent everyday, lovingly in the sun.
As good as it gets, as good as good does.
Always an adventure, always so much fun.
When we were who we were, 
when we were both young.

And when we first felt, how it felt, what it feels to feel love.
How it lifted us up, so high and above.
When the worst part of our day, was just it being done.
What a snug fit, like a hand in a glove.
Such a great love, our hearts so flung.
When we were who we were,
when we were both young.

How our feelings for each other, how they so grew.
And whenever we saw one another, how it always felt new.
With such cheerful delight, the songs that I sung.
While you looked into me, as I sang them to you. 
Into each others arms, where always we sprung.
When we were who we were,
when we were both young.

And alas I remember, when we grew apart.
When we went our own ways, and our new lives we'd both start.
When it was all over, and all said and done.
I never admitted of my broken heart.
Even though it's all gone, bad feelings I've none.
Of when we were who we were,
when we were both young.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem


I saw a woman with red hair,
who left me caught in quite the stare.
While she ran her fingers through that red hair,
while she was just standing there.

That red haired woman standing there,
who ran her fingers through that red hair.
That red haired woman she drove me wild,
when she flashed that devilish smile.

That woman with red hair,
her gaze stripped me, left me bare.
That woman with red hair I made her mine.
And so together, we spent our time.

That red haired woman, how she made me feel inside.
Everytime I saw her, I felt I had just died.
That red haired woman, she was a heaven to me.
She could fill any that was empty. 

That woman with red hair, she could not be tamed.
Her flowing essence, would never drain.
That woman with red hair, a free spirit of her own.
The greatest thing, I have ever known.

That red haired woman, who always got her way.
So to her, belonged each day.
That red haired woman, who had me trained.
and so soon, I was the one who was chained. 

That woman with red hair, who was head to toe insane.
And had to cause so, way to much pain.
That woman with red hair, with whom I came to a bad end.
In a heartbeat, I'd do it all again. 

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

Beyond the Skies

Looking beyond the skies, see the stars so far away.
Shining bright through the night, till one of them brings us day.
Rigel, Arcturus, and Sirius too.
Which one a red giant? Which one a massive blue?
Through the right set of eyes, you can see them up close.
Or look to the other moons, the planets,
quite gazed upon the most.

The red world, the ring world, the big orange ball.
The burning world, the ice world. Can you name them all?
Floating in this emptiness, around the sun we race.
Floating in this black void, this place we call space.

And beyond our own neighborhood there's more and there's more.
Looking above the clouds, to see what's in store.
Andromeda, the crab nebula,
the famed horse head.
So far apart in this universe,
almost forever we're spread.

There's pulsars, there's quasars, and neutron stars.
Neutrinos, and black holes, and moons covered in scars.
Comets and asteroids and big clouds of gas.
Some objects that don't seem to move at all,
and some unbelievable fast.

Looking beyond the heavens, there's just so many things.
From huge supernovae to impossibly small strings.
Every where you turn, there's always much more.
So much do discover, with an infinity to explore.

But the most amazing thing we know,
of to which the universe has given birth.
The most overlooked place of all,
the planet we call earth.

And because we're down here, and we look up there.
Just maybe, there has to be.
More life somewhere?

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

Evilly So Happily

The only happiness I enjoy today
is my complex lunacy.
What ever has become of me?
I didn't use to be this way.

I was once a happy child.
And as a kid
the things I did
were ever so tender and mild.
While laughing at one's misery is where I stop and find.
That the insanity
has demented me,
but I don't miss my mind.

Cause I like to watch the raindrops fall.
From the ground and moving up
much like the march hare's half a cup
It makes no sense at all 

Now am I really here?
Or have I died
and my brain just lied?
And told me I have another year.

The things that should probably make me sad,
like being ripped of all I had
is actually what makes me very glad.
But is that really, very bad?

And I will happily
watch the tragedy
that I find your life to be.
So says the demon, who slowly is, becoming me.

So I sit here in my tower.
Looking down, while judging others
see their faces, hate their mothers.
My evil growing by the hour.

Lost in lust is how I feel
for what I see
in front of me.
As the fabric of my mind I peel.

To watch the world and see it fall.
When everything around me
is stripped of it's reality.
Such pretty colors they are all.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem


Oh how I thought, what a perfect crime.
As I had spent so much time,
plotting it out, every day in my mind.
Until I felt, it was time for her to go.
When I knew no one, would ever know.
There came such a freeing feeling, oh I felt it so.

I would take her for a walk,
way high up in the hills.
Where the mountain lions,
are well known for their brutal kills.
I'd shred her to pieces, rip her all apart. 
Then play the pitied widower, with a sad broken heart.
And when I came down, acting as a man who lost all senses.
Well all the town, gave me their condolences.
I'd gotten away clean, I'd done the deed well.
No one would ever know, as no one could tell.
No feeling of guilt, and not the least bit sad.
That night I slept, the best sleep I ever had.

And when I woke in the morning, thinking all was okay.
No no, no way, no way it was not.
"Oh god what have I done?"
"Oh no!" I thought.
Then a nauseous feeling swept over me,
causing a weakening, in my legs.
If I had just taken the life of my wife.
Who would cook my eggs?

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

Imaginary Friend

I once had an imaginary friend,
but grew tired of how he'd always weep.
And so then, he met his end.
When I murdered him in his sleep.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011

Details | Grobb Johnson Poem

A Night to be Lost In

(Originally wrote it as a song, but I like it like this as well.)

A shooting star
make a wish,
give me a kiss
on the hood of the car
I taste your lips,
it's the sweetest thing.
We're all alone
while the crickets sing.
With staring eyes,
see glowing fire-flies.
And shooting stars light up the skies.

A perfect night
with a gentle breeze
whistling through the trees.
It feels so right
as tensions ease.
So relaxed
just lay back
and taste the fruit
our peaches snack.
While feelings rise
and shooting stars light up our skies.

That fresh air scent
so good to your nose
catches on our clothes.
A night well spent,
together with you.
It's just us two,
The moon shining bright,
it's our only light.
While on this night,
in the grass we lye
as shooting stars light up the sky.

Crashing waves,
soothing beachfront sounds
wash out our sandcastle mounds.
Could stay for days,
on this sandy beach.
See the stars we reach
over the ocean sees.
And on the tides
it never dies.
Is what we realize
as shooting stars light up our skies.

Our quiet hill,
with no more racket.
Just a picnic basket.
The wind is still
under a tree.
Just you and me
eat off your belly.
So, so happy.
We wait till night
right before sunrise.
To watch the shooting stars light up the skies.

A shooting star.
Makes a light so bright,
it lights up the night.
Now here we are.
Lost in love
the kind you only dream of.
On the hood of the car.
To forever feel like this,
is what I make my wish.
When you wish upon,
a shooting star.

The time's eleven eleven.
A meteor shower
on the top of the hour.
Your smile is heaven
and you aim it at me.
It's all I see
a good memory
while you hold the key,
to me inside.
Fills me with butterflies
while shooting stars light up our skies.

Just us two
no one else around
your voice the sweetest sound.
I say to you,
that I love you.
You say you love me too,
while you take my hand.
Our toes buried in the sand.
Get lost in your eyes,
completely mesmerized
as shooting stars light up the skies.

Shooting stars,
hoods of cars,
late night wishes,
lighthouse kisses.
The moments ours,
just go with it.
Sunday picnics,
one way tickets.
And I got my wish it
all started with just one kiss.
How I love the taste of your lips.

Copyright © Grobb Johnson | Year Posted 2011