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Best Poems Written by Dominique Johnson

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

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

The Vicious Cycle

I haven’t been here in a while
At this point in my life that is.
The point where something great becomes misconstrued
more filled with angst instead of jovialness.
Shot through the heart:
Bang.
It hurts me to be here, hurts me to say this
But I would rather kill it, dissipate it
Then let it continue; I know I’d hate it.
I’d rather be preemptive, stay ahead.
To avoid the potentially hurtful aftermath
It’s the type to grip you by your soul and
make you want to O.D during a bubble bath.
This is just to let you know how hard it is.
It’s hard because there’s so much invested
If any shots come my way I understand;
As it seems to hardships I no longer feel the need to contest it;
It’s a love hate type of thing.
I hate that you may think the love was not all it could’ve been,
Yet we both know through hardships we made it, but this is now and that-
That was then.
No need for animosity we’ve agreed to drink in friendship responsibly
And if the time comes again where everything is lined up for both of us
Then I guess I won’t need the help of E-harmony.
This is not to say by any stretch that it is expected
or that you owe me anything by any means
but our present time is past, that’s the way the future makes it seem.
This is a divorce of sorts as are all relationships
No one courtship is perfect and this one’s included in that statistic
So despite what everyone around you might say
(Those opinionated idiots)
And even despite what your anger may make you think
We sailed on love, hurdled every obstacle, made impossible possible
But to perpetuate, a lack of being affectionate, is highly illogical.
Mix in the emotions we both possess and things become highly volatile.
We just need to get back to the basics, start anew,
With our eyes on the future with pens not pencils
There won’t be a need to erase it.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Fly Away

--Fly away.
We were compelled to believe that all men are created equal,
But they lied to our fore fathers and we are just the sequel.
You can turn back the page and gaze at what the truth reveals
Or ask your parents or grandparents to tell you how they feel.
 
At the bottom of the totem pole, set there on purpose
To see if you can climb up, but tell me is it worth this
To have “power” but your only power is to purchase
Never having any depth, just hovering above the surface.
 
Curiosity killed the cat, remember that what’s accepted is fact
Don’t retrace what’s been replaced, there 'll just be egg on your face.
 
But be not defeated by foes and adversaries
be motivated to be the 1st and pop all these virgin cherries.
 
The world is ever-changing and they need your wise mind
If you must, turn your back and let your eyes be blind
To anything negative and only be positive
How will your light shine if you always keep it closeted?
 
Soar among the tallest building and live right between the skies
Success is not an easy path, but unused talent always dies.
To be able to wake up every day is not a given but a blessing
Don’t squander the opportunity to teach the world a lesson.
 
Don’t be afraid to raise the roof higher and tell the devil he’s a liar
If you stay on top of your game then the world is yours to acquire.
--Fly away.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

It's All Love

Back turned on the world ain't nothin for me, wear shades at night protect my eyes from all my glory, true story." Living legend something like Robert Horry, oldest friend that’s still here- shout out to my man Corey
And that was just the intro, just to tease your nympho, allow me to unwind and set the tempo…


Sometimes it’s hard to stay focused

Hocus-pocus, no magic, just a prayer I prayed as I wrote this

And sometimes life is hopeless, but I’d be foolish to give up( in time I learned this)

I’m just thinking aloud now and I find it sad how

The pressures of life make even me wrinkle my brown brow.

It’s hard to imagine- life without passion,

But that’s how it is when all the lights stop flashing.

But don’t stop acting, life is a job that’s never done

Second place is fine but there’s a vacancy at number one.

Sometimes it’s all easy, possibly elementary

While other times it’s harder than a Shakespeare soliloquy.

Sometimes we think that we could make it on our own,

But everyone wants someone to be there when they get home

No one truly ever wants to be alone

Imagine what life would be like if no one dialed your phone.

Everyone’s looking for someone, that minor to make them prominent

The piece to your missing puzzle, the ultimate compliment.

Single is temporary, love’s everlasting feel is imminent.

When you find it, cherish it, and thank God it’s heaven-sent.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Sober At the Speakeasy Part 1

"Table for one sir?..."
 
Here I am
A little bit older
A little bit wiser
I've been tested
 
Pushed to the limit to the brink
of insanity where I dip my “I” when I think
(my mind thinks even more when I sleep
 never letting a plausible concept deteriorate in the sink)
 
But whether I was high or low or
it was fast-times or slow-times
In the Lord is where my faith is forever vested
And that’s where it will forever reside in my mind.
Yes I've been blessed since I was a little kid
 
 
Patience forever tried
Whether it’s outside or inside the classroom
I embrace mental stimulation
While trying to minimize any of my many frustrations
I try to cleanse myself of crap thereby avoiding constipation…
 
But man oh man people make it hard.
 
I don’t use that as an excuse
Rather factual resuscitation
What strikes me off guard is my true heart’s abuse
Or my thoughts or words misinterpretation.
Lord knows I hate that and for it I have no use.
 
Personal passions are personified in every word I ever scorn
I birth it as I deem fit, there’s no need for it to ever be reborn.
Clarifications a plenty, the meaning of it all I keep it in me
No chains and no restrictions I let my mind speak freely.
 
"Yes please."
"Right this way sir..."

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

The Dentist

The anxiety builds 
I am nervous 
This is a rare moment in which I feel my heart beat.
I had presumed that my mental preparation was complete.
Yet I search and find few remnants of confidence within me.
It has been awhile since I've experienced this fear
Will I ever feel comfortable during my stay?
Verily I say unto thee: Nay.
Facetious smiles and meaningless conversation
I am quite cognizant of the airs you display.
Will these unsubtle attempts to woe me disperse my fear?
Verily I say unto thee: Nay.
This is a pre-arranged intrusion upon the zone in which I have comfort.
Yet it is I who have chosen this discourse.
Do I betray my own sensibilities?
Verily I say unto thee: Aye.
I feel my brow moisten as the seconds go by.
I grow weary.
I force myself to look at you.
Look into the eyes of my source of pain.
Your eyes do not return the gaze mine have initiated.
Yours are elsewhere, singularly focused on ceasing this moment.
Is our experience nearing its inevitable completion?
Verily I say unto thee: Aye.
It is then and only then that my trepidation dissipates.
Relief and joy have overcome my beating heart.
Dare I see you again in half a year’s time?
Verily I say unto thee: Aye.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

One To the Heart, Two To the Brain

My levels haven't been up to the consistency to consistently keep me with inner peace. 
I'm fighting demons.
Some of them are mental; my own subconscious feeding me negative thoughts that prevent me from getting the calm my soul desires. 
I wish for this turbulence to cease. 
It feels like a slow roasting fire devouring all your sentiments while you gaze along incapable of rising a finger. 
The smell of burnt ideals still linger. 
The self loathing seeps in unannounced and unwanted. 
My soul is haunted. 
Ghost appear in every shadow; the prime position being in my peripheral vision. 
It is here where they appear so very near. 
I'm not sure what to do. 
No one is helping me in the fashion required to alleviate this awful faction and return me to a peaceful existence. 
Where are the other resistors for this resistance? 
All my thoughts are scrambled like unborn chickens. 
One bad thought after another is what my cerebellum is picking. 
It's depressing and I know it, but this current disposition has pieces of me missing.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Slighted

Slighted

We are a proud people
Years progressed from the hardest of times
History glorified, often fragmented,
celebrated, but not allocated true recognition.
Made infamous for ignorance
lacking the embodiment of a true essence
Hardships fought by ancestors
but we would rather let society sequester
Education and advancement 
Too enthralled with garments and dance
instead of loving each other for intelligence,
relevant viewpoints, or political stances.
Seemingly crippled by unavoidable violence
As another teen falls your senses are blinded by sirens.
Do you hear that?
The gunshots, the poverty, the rubbish they dare call music
Senses abused and misused as I am mortified by
the scarcity of faith and hope.
Consumed by small-mindedness  
They either ball, rap, or move that dope.
Only a fool would ever idolize these jesters.
I am insulted.
Loathing the eyes which portray this view:
All aforementioned specimens look just like you
and I.
The voices that dare aspire to inspire 
are to faint and oft times unheard.
Unanimity and acumen needn’t be dreams deferred.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Before the Eulogy

It was a Tuesday. That was the day you didn’t come back and I came after you.  We were the space between wrong and right. We were the shade of grey in the sunset seen by few eyes. Being melted into a single entity put you and I on one rhythmic accord. Of course you used to fight it and scream and complain that you’d call the cops, but I knew all along what your heart was saying. We were the blade that cut too deep. We were the deadliest piranhas. Fear was a condition others suffered. Yet, in that same microcosm, we were just a small candy. An efficiently power-punching proportioned treat that was trimmed too soon. A premature casualty….

That cliff opened its arms for us, or rather for you …. This is where we lived to come as kids. This is where you died. Remember that? Do you remember the day we found eternity? Spitefully, I choose to not remember it either. It was before N.Y., before Cairo, before Cape Town.  You said we’d die together. I remember seeing a YouTube video about how to roll out of a moving vehicle…. It worked just like they said it would. The way that car went flying over the cliff’s edge with you in it just took my breath away…..

You should have seen yourself.

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Sober At the Speakeasy Pt 2

“Would you like another drink sir?”
“Sir?”
 
Vision blurred vision blurred
Tonight more than my drinks have been stirred
Blurred vision blurred vision
As the bottle empties the poison’s made its incision…
 
 
But awe man it’s not over
Willing of course on the assumption that the Lord says the same
forever for some years I want my days to roll over
(but if he decides to cut them short (then my fair end has came) and the reflection in the mirror is the source of my blame)
 
and matriculate like back in the gap when I thought that I’d never get older
back in the gap when there wasn’t a weight stacked on my shoulder
 
I don’t mind it though.
I think of it as a necessity to keep the upper hand on every foe
 
“Yes please…”
 
Drinking out the bottle deep sea diving for answers
Sweating all the small **** like I’m searching for cancer
Fingers pitter patter on the table like an erratic dancer
Vision starts to obscure as I realize I haven’t the cure
For humanities imperfections that is based on pure perception
But times ticking
 
Tick tick tick…
My watches reflection spots a figure and sends
my eyes in the corresponding direction.
 
This beautiful figure is hard not to stare at
and it’s getting harder and harder (multiple forms of erection)
 
first is mind then its body as they both align
this being gliding across the room is so divine
stricken, yes I’m a being who’s beating
his heart for you don’t you see I adore you
her vivaciousness is filling me with thoughts lascivious
but it feels like it’s some sort of bliss
her curves have placed my nerves into spastic fits
the **** is this?
Love?
 
No I realize I can’t see her with my real eyes
But Lord she is as perfect as the heaven above blue skies
Curves extending for days, her body calls to mine
I feel a tingle in my spine, and oh how she makes my heart sway…
I’m sweating, man this girl is gorgeous, but I must pick her mind
She sits down at my table so I feel obliged to say
 
 
“Hello.”

Details | Dominique Johnson Poem

Separation

It was a Tuesday.
That was the day you didn’t come back and I came after you. 
We were the space between wrong and right.
We were the shade of grey in the sunset seen by few eyes.
Being melted into a single entity put you and I on one rhythmic accord.
Of course you used to fight it and scream and complain that you’d call the cops, but I knew all along what your heart was saying.
We were the blade that cut too deep.
We were the deadliest piranhas.
Fear was just a mere unfeasible condition. Yet, in that same microcosm, we were just a small candy.
An efficiently power punching proportion treat that was trimmed too soon and treated with disregard.
That cliff opened its arms for us. Or rather for you; ladies first of course.
This cliff is where we lived to come as kids.
This is where you died.
Remember that?
Do you remember that day we first realized we were meant to be?
I don’t remember it either.
It was before New York, before Cairo, and before Cape Town. 
You said we’d die together.
I remember seeing a TV special about how to roll out of a moving vehicle.
It worked just like they said it would.
The way that car went flying over the cliff’s edge with you in it just took my breath away.
 
You should have seen yourself.