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Best Poems Written by Timothy Johnson

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

Details | Timothy Johnson Poem

Monster

I am putting out a beacon on the A-M, I Am Legend morning double-dutch
Pepsi cola, paranoia, post-exilic high school drama. Stop.
Is there anybody out there, I’m hoping you can hear me
Break the door, cover down, but most of all believe me
I haven’t seen another human being in this God forsaked oasis
who wouldn’t place me in his iron-sights just to bury me with the faceless
tasteless, and all around degenerate in-animates
that beheld the new millennium and become some pickled-plastered shits.
50 milligrams of trapazene and a metric ton of ritalin
with any luck will keep me from burning down New York like a Marvel Movie villain
Like ninety percent destruction, like the news on nine-eleven
like the peter parker web net, catching mary jane to save the day
top story at eleven.

Back to you Jen! Thanks Bob.

We are on the precipice of New World Order, but not what we were promised
by the inside job, swiss bank, illuminate, and Rothschild alarmists
This is not the Black Pope signing off on Masonic acts of terror
But a voluntary waiver to exclude yourself from error
Like bubble gum “POP POP”, likes oops that wasn’t me
This is merely just an act of infallible insanity
Temporary numbing off the senses til it lingers
Let the beasts in his cage lick the cheesy powder off your fingers
In the year of 1980 there was a scientific discovery
indeed the researchers were baffled by this nihilist anomaly
They kept a scaly monster locked up, Isla Sorna penitentiary
But they didn’t tell the people what the spectacle was meant to be
The monster was a man, and the man an animal
I don’t believe I’m ever getting out of this dirt hole.
The monster was a man and the man an animal.

Details | Timothy Johnson Poem

Before the Booze

I met my wife before the booze
which sounds nicer than the truth
because before the booze was porn and drugs
and the mother of my first child, you know,
that chick I used to love.

I met my wife after the great exchange,
which is a regal title that directly conflicts with the darkness
that arises in every conversation in which the travesty is mentioned.
The mother of my first child, you know,
that chick I used to love
I got her pregnant when she was 17, angry,
a victim of divorced parents and confused about her sexuality.
I commissioned her parents,
gave them half  the cost of an abortion and decided
the fate of my child who wasn’t born yet. 
And like I said, she was 17
between her parents and me she had no choice in the matter. 


I met my wife the month my dog died,
so I was very fragile, confused
hell, I was grown man in baby shoes
and I will not soon forget watching my best friend croak
and the irony that the poison that did him was pink bubbly liquid
the reminded me of bubblegum. Bubble yum!
That was the day that my dad put his hand on my shoulder
after I had given the command to the doctor to my dog down
and he said “Son, you’re a man today” and I said “Thanks dad”
Then turned around and cried at the fact that that day was my birthday.

I wish I could say that this had a happy ending
I’m just glad to say it’s not a bad one
The booze is still my friend, but it is no longer my mistress.
My wife, she was a knife to me
that stabbed me through the heart when I thought that I was heartless
she twisted it just enough to bleed and bled out the darkness
I just want to say thank you to her and to the God who believes in me
for giving up such precious freedom 
to the one that believed that he was actually free.

Details | Timothy Johnson Poem

It's Nothing Personal

We were the barrel bottom feeders, we were barely eighteen
We had no chance nowhere else ‘til we were issued a used dream
We sat with our recruiter while he gave us his spiel
He said, “Now listen up, recruit, Imma make you a new deal.
Thirty thousand dollar bonus just for being employed
and between us, if you join now then you won’t be deployed”
I look back now and smile and I laugh at all that
Cause six months after signing we were dying in combat
And after we got back, after giving three years
After giving brother’s blood, after holding back our tears
We were some of us arrested outside the post exchange
For taking drugs that helped us with what happened down range.
The rest of us were spared, saluted, celebrated
We won our countries love, we earned the Muslim’s hatred
They tell us “You are moral, our countries best provision 
Now here’s your booze and condoms, go make the best decisions”


(By a proud U.S. Soldier, able to accept the army despite her flaws).

Details | Timothy Johnson Poem

The Rock

In a vision the devil took me to the highest mountain 
from the very top of the mountain he brought me to the very edge
With cold and soft hands he pointed to the land below and said
“Look”
Feigning piety I spared only a single eye’s glance to the land below
and stared into an endless city of light. 
But the author of deception could not be deceived.
As people danced and drank in the city below the Deciever looked to me and said
“For a single word of praise I would offer you this whole city
and give to you every whim that your heart desired” 
He then pulled back his hand and said,
“But your words can be bought for much less
so I will not offer you all of this”.
In a vision the Devil then placed a chain around my neck
and pulled me to the tallest dirt hill.
From the very top of the hill he pointed to the barren land below and said
“Look”
Feigning holiness, I looked with both eyes but said I didn’t want to.
But the author of deception could not be deceived.
The hills were painted with sheep and tufts of grass, 
thorns and weeds overgrew the soil, and the beasts feasted.
Then the devil said
“For all of your allegiance I would give you this land;
the soil and grass would all be yours and you could make storms forever.”
Then the devil withdrew his hand and said
“But your allegiance is not worth that much
and can be bought for much less. So I will not offer this to you”
In a vision the devil then blindfolded me and pulled my chain,
walking me as far as my legs and my feet could go.
He then uncovered my blindfold
 and allowed me to behold the land we had come to.
Around me was a desert of clay and sand
covered in rocks and creatures that slithered. 
The Devil then handed me a shovel and said 
“Dig until you hit rock”
And so I dug deeper and deeper into the ground
until I hit the bottom rock.
As I sat back, exhausted by the work, I resigned myself.
I resigned myself to my seat of sand
I resigned myself to my table of rock below me
I resigned myself to the slithering creatures 
who I had consumed and let consume me
I resigned myself to nauseating heat and 
humid breeze that welcomed me as I sank lower into my hole.
Then the Devil offered me a contract and said 
“For your immortal soul, I will offer you this hole in the ground”
He then withdrew the contract and said 
“But your soul can be bought for much less so I will not offer you this”
In a vision I resigned myself to my defeat
In a vision I resigned myself to my anger
With a chain around my neck
and a shovel in my hand
I resigned myself to a rage that began to overtake my body
With my shovel I struck the sand
With my shovel I struck the slithering creature
Then, with my shovel, I struck the rock below twice.
The rock cracked.
And like a spring bubbling up
The rock
gushed
blood.
 I drank my fill and the Devil fled.