Home » Poems » Best » Nicole Johnson » Best Nicole Johnson Poems

Best Poems Written by Nicole Johnson

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

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Planned Parenthood

I took a stroll, past the buffet, past the spray tans 

and into a market of convenience. 

They always have what i need.

 Planned Parenthood never does.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Gypsies Ode To the Caravan

Oh when the cold lurks past our doors,
we gypsies love your heated seats.
Stars guide our weary hearts,
better yet, headlights show the streets.
 
We journey together,
one heartbeat echo’s for all.
My people voice together,
next stop, the nearest mall!
 
Charms of wisdom and luck,
sometimes ward off ghostly creatures.
Your airbags come standard,
among other safety features.
 
Labeled as thieves just for trying to find water,
 canisters upon our backs in the burning sun.
Oh glory to the Caravan that comes with cup holders,
a Gypsies day can now be done.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Detour

Road construction ahead. Another pending relationship. Potentially harmless. A fly stuck to the windshield. Its smashed body meaning as much as the life it once had. Just past the corpse the sign comes into view: "Detour" The break up begins. No apologies, no explanations. Just maybe the wind.. it passes, taking no sides. Beyond the sign is a graveyard, holding silence. Holding the hands on a clock. Holding back all but that wind.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Fashionable March

I find myself trapped by bodies that move with this continuous stride and feet that march with fashionable certainty. My feet falter sideways to make room as I’m forced to face the faces, forced to catch the eyes that catch on me. Changing direction at this point would only draw more attention. So I step through the exit, reducing in size and I reach for my entrance.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

I'Ll Leave the Light On

The sun is rising and baby, this day is mine.
Your boat just can’t get us across.
I can give you no more time.
 
So hold my hand while I find us a way.
I will search for what you’ve buried
And find real hope, using the light of day.
 
Who we are, is where we go from here.
So say your peace,
Because who we are, will not be our fear.
 
Night will come with a darkness that you can’t take.
But don’t worry, I’ll leave the light on.
So sleep now; I’ll be here when you wake.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Today, I Watered the Plants

My eyes avoid…
Especially that one in the corner- It’s been watching me every time I walk by.
Seeping its way into the corner of my eyes, a lifeless green.
It sits in front of the window, forced to watch drops of water slide down the pane.
I hear it plead.
?
So I fill a cup and Pick withered leaves to prepare for moisten soil.
I generously pour water with a hum, as if I did it every day.
I envision a murderer watering roses on a grave she created.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

The Day Is a Child

If I could, I would sleep all day and wake in the brilliant night
Day expects too much
Day expects grass to be green; the sky to be blue
So intense, so proud the sun, that nothing else can shine  
 Selfishly casting shadows to anyone who gets in her way
 
The day is a child wearing a toy crown
Clouds bring tears when the wind blows that crown away
 
The night is dazzling and humble
The night is dark so the stars can shine
Moonlight tells the green grass to rest and watch the sparklers burn
The night is a candle and we are the flame that lights it

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Like Dirt We Shovel

Like dirt,
we shovel every last emotion out of our eyes.
Until they are hollow.
Filling them with water.
So when you look,
you see what you want.
A reflection.
 
Our lips, a white-picket fence.
Structured and grounded.
Our mouth are kites,
weaving through jungles of ideas.
 
At day, our feet are two heavy rocks,
grinding sidewalks.
When we sleep,
Our feet find a shore.
Kicking little shells into the sea.

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

Leaf

A display of warmth and blush would once make its way down the tree.
Gracefully it left, like a final bow at the end of a play; so frail, yet, quite tender to the eyes of the admiring audience.
Mornings pass dressed in suites and ties, carrying a briefcase of winter clouds.
Mucky leaves now slop their way around, hitching a ride on the nearest boot or swift ambulance.
Still, some stay close to home; never gliding too far past its trunk.
They watch lovely arms that once held them tight.
Rest and sway... a mother rocking her empty cradle

Details | Nicole Johnson Poem

This Fruitful Mass of Cadence

You have mistaken the sweetness of fruit.
You have mistaken its identity with the
taste of its wet skin dripping into a cluster
of sugary silk.
 
Its presents;
 heavy as a whisper fallen on a wind.
Yet, every sweet speck texture has a purpose.
What it takes to ripen under a burning sun is control.
What it takes to bend without breaking is strength.
And what seed would know the smell of morning
without surviving the cold night.
 
It's the passion of a inner smile
And it's a fruitful mass of a 
silent cadence.