Somewhere between earth and heaven
The C-17 flies,
Heading westward homeward
Through clean, clear, safe blue skies
At the back of the airplane
Draped in his country’s flag
They’re bringing Buddy home.
Somewhere between tears and…Continue
Added by Michael Johnson on March 25, 2017 at 1:30am — No Comments
BALLAD OF SMITH AND GABRIEL JIMMYBOY, THE
From the film "Smith!" (1969)
There's an indian boy in trouble and he's runnin'
He clutches his protection like a toy
There's been a murder in town
And the blame went round and round
And they laid it all on Gabriel…
Added by Michael Johnson on March 17, 2017 at 1:30am — No Comments
Do you know what it's like to have your race belittled, and to come to learn that you are only a burden to the country? Maybe we did not have the skills to make a meaningful contribution, but nobody would wait for us. We were shoved aside, because we were dumb and could not learn.
Do you know what it is like to be without pride in your race, pride in your family, pride and confidence in yourself? What is it like? You do not know. You have never tasted its bitterness.
Added by Michael Johnson on March 16, 2017 at 10:02pm — No Comments
I know what you must be saying, "Tell us, what do you want?" Yes, what do we want? We want first of all to be respected and to feel that we are people of worth. We want equal job opportunities for our students. We want guidance and counseling. We want to feel that we are a people of worth.
Let no one forget this: we are a people with special rights guaranteed to us by promises and treaties. We do not beg for these rights, nor do we thank you. We do not thank you because we paid for…Continue
Added by Michael Johnson on March 16, 2017 at 10:00pm — No Comments
Can we talk of integration until there is social integration? Unless there is integration in hearts and minds, you only have a physical presence and the walls are as high as the mountain tops.
This piece was originally a presentation made at Western Washington…Continue
Added by Michael Johnson on March 16, 2017 at 9:30pm — No Comments
I haled me a woman from the street,
Shameless, but, oh, so fair!
I bade her sit in the model's seat,
And I painted her sitting there.
I hid all trace of her heart unclean;
I painted a babe at her breast;
I painted her as she might have been
If the Worst had been the Best.
She laughed at my picture, and went away.
Then came, with a knowing nod,
A connoisseur, and I heard him say:
"'Tis Mary, the Mother of God."
So I painted a halo…
Added by Michael Johnson on March 16, 2017 at 6:29am — No Comments
Does anyone know of a girl who might like
A tired old boy on a rusty old bike
Who just pulled in today from the Florida Glades
And just got to stop and rest awhile and rest awhile.
Does anyone know of someone who can use
A hard working fool who don't ever touch booze
Who's only vice is a roll of a dice
And he's just got to stop and rest awhile and rest awhile.
Easy there lady, I don't want no trouble
I'll pay for…
Added by Michael Johnson on March 15, 2017 at 2:40pm — No Comments
THE SHOOTING OF DAN McGREW
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The kid that handles the music-box was hitting a jag-time tune;
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew,
And watching his luck was his light-o'-love, the lady that's known as Lou.
When out of the night, which was fifty below, and into the din and the glare,
There stumbled a miner fresh from the creeks, dog-dirty and loaded for bear.
He looked like…
To the Man of the High North
My rhymes are rough, and often in my rhyming
I've drifted, silver-sailed, on seas of dream,
Hearing afar the bells of Elfland chiming,
Seeing the groves of Arcadie agleam.
I was the thrall of Beauty that rejoices
From peak snow-diademed to regal star;
Yet to mine aerie ever pierced the voices,
The pregnant voices of the Things That Are.
The Here, the Now, the vast Forlorn around us;
The gold-delirium, the…
Added by Michael Johnson on March 15, 2017 at 4:18am — No Comments
There is a pub inside a baobab tree in the Limpopo province. It has electricity, a dart board and even a phone. Another story about the origins of the baobab tree is that back in the beginning the baobab tree wanted flowers like the protea, and the protea agreed. However, the baobab was not satisfied and so the animals plucked it up and shoved it back in the ground upside down. One of the bush legends also says that if a baby drinks a mixture of the tree’s bark and water, the baby will grow…Continue
Added by Michael Johnson on March 13, 2017 at 1:30am — No Comments
Added by Michael Johnson on March 10, 2017 at 12:10am — No Comments
To be read as a night time children's story Heh Heh Heh...
Written by me
and I really like kids..most of the time and quiet.
When you sleep tonight...in the dark..there's nothing there with you...is there ? the rain you hear at the window ...it's just rain...isn't it.... the eyes glowing in the hall are just your cat's eyes...aren't they?..The Black Widow your mom said she killed by your bed...she really did kill it ...didn't she..so there's nothing in the covers with you…Continue
Added by Michael Johnson on March 9, 2017 at 11:59pm — No Comments
Talk To Your Plants
Now you have got to talk to your plants. Now this is a lullaby for people who talk to their plants.
Good night little house plant asleep on the sill
I'll shut the shades so you don't catch a chill
And tomorrow in the mornin' there'll be breakfest for two
We'll have ham and eggs for me and nitrogen for you
Good night little house plant, tucked in your clay pot
Make sure you don't catch the Huntington's rot
Be careful, little house…
SOMETHING MISSING (A Light in the Attic)
I remember I put on my socks,
I remember I put on my shoes.
I remember I put on my tie
That was printed
In beautiful purples and blues.
I remember I put on my coat,
To look perfectly grand at the dance,
Yet I feel there is something
I may have forgot—
What is it? What is it?...
memories of a small child...or
current events at 72 LOL
Added by Michael Johnson on February 25, 2017 at 9:51pm — No Comments
SARAH CYNTHIA SYLVIA STOUT
WOULD NOT TAKE THE GARBAGE OUT
Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out!
She'd scour the pots and scrape the pans,
Candy the yams and spice the hams,
And though her daddy would scream and shout,
She simply would not take the garbage out.
And so it piled up to the ceilings:
Coffee grounds, potato peelings,
Brown bananas, rotten peas,
Chunks of sour cottage cheese.
It filled the…
Added by Michael Johnson on February 25, 2017 at 9:40pm — No Comments
Put another log on the fire.
Cook me up some bacon and some beans.
And go out to the car and change the tire.
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans.
Come on, baby, you can fill my pipe
And then go fetch my slippers.
And boil me up another pot of tea.
Then put another log on the fire babe,
And come & tell me why you're leaving me.
Now don't I let you wash the car on Sunday?
And don't I warn you when you're gettin fat?
COMIN' AFTER JINNY
He'll be comin' down the road at the break of day
His head thrown back and his guns tied low
He's comin' after Jinny wants to take her away but I ain't gonna let her go
Oh he boasted in town that she loved him he said she'd be his with the sun
He said anyone trying to stop him would be just one more notch on his gun
They say that he's headstrong and handsome his hair's blowin' wild and free
And they got told I ain't comin' cause he's…
Added by Michael Johnson on February 25, 2017 at 4:42am — No Comments
Texas Trilogy By Steve Fromholz
6'oclock silence of a new day beginning
is heard in a small Texas town
Like a signal from nowhere the people who live there
are up and runnin' around
'cause there's bacon to fry and there's biscuits to bake
On a stove that the Salvation Army won't take
And you open the windows and turn on the fan
'cause it's hotter than hell when the sun hits the land
Walter and Fanny well they own the grocery…
There where the mighty mountains bare their fangs unto the moon;
There where the sullen sun-dogs glare in the snow-bright, bitter noon,
And the glacier-gutted streams sweep down at the clarion call of June:
There where the livid tundras keep their tryst with the tranquil snows;
There where the Silences are spawned, and the light of hell-fire flows
Into the bowl of the midnight sky, violet, amber, and rose:
There where the rapids churn and roar, and the ice-floes…
Added by Michael Johnson on February 14, 2017 at 2:20am — No Comments
Have you gazed on naked grandeur where there's nothing else to gaze on,
Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore,
Big mountains heaved to heaven, which the blinding sunsets blazon,
Black canyons where the rapids rip and roar?
Have you swept the visioned valley with the green stream streaking through it,
Searched the Vastness for a something you have lost?
Have you strung your soul to silence? Then for God's sake go and do it;
Hear the challenge, learn the…
Added by Michael Johnson on February 14, 2017 at 1:48am — No Comments