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LOVE SONG Poetry   --  "Men and Women in Lust and Love - Poems of Love, Lust, Romance, and Heartbreak"


© Carl Martin Johnson, All rights reserved

The Picture
River Girl
By Carl Martin Johnson

River Girl’s had many men.
She swears I’ll be her last.
I can’t help what she’s been,
Only hope the past is past.

She goes down to the river
To watch memories float by.
The sad pleasure that they give her
Makes River Girl smile and cry.

Her heart is carved up neatly.
Each lover has a piece.
She shares herself so sweetly,
I cannot beg her cease.

Every lover she loved truly.
She was faithful while she stayed.
Never caused them pain unduly.
She was worth the price they paid.

I will risk the heartache,
If for a moment she is mine.
Until I feel my soul break,
I will drink my River Girl’s wine.



By Carl Martin Johnson

Breathe her name softly to me,
Gentle midnight breeze,
Or the pain will cut sharp through me,
Drive me to my knees.


In the dim light I feel kissed.
I look around but she is gone,
Evaporated with the mist,
Leaving me alone to carry on.


I will close my eyes one night,
And my soul will softly rise.
Then together we’ll take flight
Swirling forever in the skies.




By Carl Martin Johnson


Her name I can’t recall,
But her face I well remember.
Though I knew her in the Fall,
She had the beauty of December.


Her hair was snowy white,
Running like silk through my fingers.
It was a lovers’ night,
And the memory still lingers.


Her face’s lines of living
Left her loveliness unscarred.
Soft eyes glowed with giving.
There was nothing about her hard.


I was young and off to fight.
I needed love to ease my fear.
So I held the woman tight,
And said “I want you, dear.”


Light poured in from the moon,
Flowing milky across our bed.
There was a lover’s tune,
If only in my head.


She was generous with her charms,
Which were firm, despite her years.
She bucked and writhed in my strong arms,
Watering passion with hot tears.


I’d write, I think I said,
But, when I left she was asleep.
I forgot her address beside the bed.
It was not a promise I meant to keep.


I don’t think of her for years,
Then suddenly I will remember.
The thick mist of time clears,
And I see my woman of December.




By Carl Martin Johnson

I made you out of moondust,
Brought stars down for your eyes,
Filled you with sweet and strong lust,
Made loving what you prize.

You hold me when I’m lonely,
Stroke me when I’m sad,
Tell me you want me only,
Say I’m the best man that you’ve had.

When I call, you come to me,
Filling my emptiness in profusion.
I feel your love all through me,
Though you are only an illusion.




By Carl Martin Johnson

Some days one remembers,
Burned deep into the mind.
Fanned to life like smoldering embers.
Images never left behind.

They are landmarks in our migration
From life’s beginning to its finish.
Times of despair or celebration.
Events that elevate or diminish.

I’ve had my own days like this,
Some pleasant and some not.
The sunset of my first kiss.
The dawn when I got shot.

But the days I can’t forget,
Whose images play and play,
Are the day that we first met,
And the day you walked away.
By Carl Martin Johnson

See that star up there, my son?
The one that’s blinking bright?
That star is the very one
Where your mother sleeps tonight.

She left you and me down here below
Because God needed her up there.
She did not truly want to go,
And it may not seem fair.

But she still loves you and me.
Right now she’s looking down.
Smile back up and you will see.
Don’t let her catch you frown.

Sometimes on a quiet night,
You will hear her singing.
Then if you cup your hands just right,
You might catch the light she’s flinging.

Soon we’ll be in her arms again.
We’ll ride up on a shooting star.
She’ll open the gate and let us in.
Heaven isn’t really far.

By Carl Martin Johnson

Is it you, my love, I wonder,
Or a figment of my emotion.
Are you the storm or only thunder,
A lovely fiction of my devotion?


Are you my creature of desire?
An illusion of my heart,
Formed in ardor’s raging fire,
A living work of art?


If I could look inside your mind,
Is it the real you I would see?
Or is the person I would find
The lover dreamed by me?


Your eyes sparkle when they see me.
Do I just hope them so?
Your expression, warm and dreamy,
Is that true passion’s glow?


Imagined, dear, or real,
You own my very soul.
The passion for you I feel
Is the glue that keeps me whole.




By Carl Martin Johnson

You stand naked here before me,
Dripping moondrops from the sea.
You promise ever to adore me,
Long past eternity.

I have seen you in my dreams,
Here on the ocean shore,
But this night is so real it seems
That I have entered a new world’s door.

Let me stay here, never waking.
Let me touch your glowing skin,
My real life forsaking.
If this be evil, let me sin.

I will lay you on the sand,
Cover your nakedness with mine.
Dream Lover, take my hand.
We will create a world divine.


By Carl Martin Johnson

She was perched on the barstool in a killer blue dress.
The sight blew my mind apart.
I felt sure I would die right then unless
She offered me her body and heart.


She rose with her hand raised to meet me.
She must have noticed my glance,
Because she smiled and whispered so sweetly:
“Buddy, you ain’t got a chance.”




By Carl Martin Johnson

Pepper is my favorite spice.
Pepper gives my taste buds pleasure.
Pepper is my all-consuming vice,
The one I dearly treasure.

I like my Pepper hot.
That’s the way I take my seasoning.
And I have Pepper a lot.
Some say beyond all reasoning.

Pepper can tear up my eye,
When used without due care.
But mostly it’s with joy I cry,
Because there’s so much Pepper there.

Of course, my Pepper has a bite.
It’s part of Pepper’s kiss.
Though my mouth is set alight,
It’s a treat I’d hate to miss.

To you it may sound strange,
That Pepper is my life.
But one day I’ll arrange
For her to be my wife.


By Carl Martin Johnson

The photo fell from an old book
That I took, dusty, from a shelf.
What had driven me to look
I don’t know myself.

I picked it up and gazed at her.
Loveliness frozen in the past.
I was still amazed at her.
I wondered, did her beauty last.

There was a moment in my youth
When she was my reason to exist.
It may be, if I admit the truth,
She was the prize I missed.

I wondered how she was.
Was she married or alone.
What she likes and what she does.
Inside, how she had grown.

With her lot was she content?
Did she regret some things she’d done?
Were the years well-spent,
With a true love she had won?

Did she now and then, like me,
Look back on what we had,
Thinking what we would be,
With lost dreams, a little sad.




By Carl Martin Johnson

You are all my loves in one.
All future, now, and past.
With you, my searching’s done.
I have joy at last.

You were in my first love’s eyes
When I was just a youth.
Though you were in disguise,
So I could not see the truth.

At last I have you here.
The love we share is true.
Only you do I hold dear.
All my loves are you.

If one day you leave,
Perhaps I’ll love anew.
But I’ll have no cause to grieve,
Because inside her will be you.




By Carl Martin Johnson

Touch me in the morning.
Let love begin our day.
Life can end with no warning.
Let’s not throw our time away.

Gently stroke me, darling.
Make me tremble in the dawn.
May the sun never see us quarreling.
By sunset we could be gone.

Let our passion wake us.
Set on fire our imagination.
Our clinging bodies will take us
On a ride of sweet sensation.

A gentle kiss before we rise.
A soft embrace before we part.
A deep look into each other’s eyes
To carry in our heart.

By Carl Martin Johnson

Her soul glows through her eyes,
As if she has an angel inside.
Like Life is a lovely surprise,
And she is the whole world’s bride.

Then she smiles, and it warms you,
Gives you comfort and cheer.
You feel there is nothing that harms you.
That you are loved and held dear.

If you are blessed you might win her.
If your love’s true and strong.
And have all that is in her
All eternity long.




By Carl Martin Johnson

She comes while I sleep
And breathes words through my lips.
Kisses me deep.
Drinks my soul in sweet sips.

But the life that she takes
She returns beautified.
The nectar she makes
Resurrects what has died.

In the dawn when I wake,
I can feel what she gives.
Through the poems I make,
Her offering lives.




By Carl Martin Johnson

There you are Rose Moon,
Blushing soft behind a cloud.
You will expose quite soon,
Your fullness, pink and proud.

Like a petal glowing,
Fallen from a heavenly flower,
Tinted beauty flowing
Over Earth in rose-milk shower.

You mellow human hearts,
Wash us gently in your beams,
Hypnotize us with your arts,
Plant your wonders in our dreams.

Lift me up to your embrace.
I’m lonely here below.
I want to kiss your lustrous face
Then perhaps my heart will grow.

I need your warmth inside
To thaw my frozen soul.
My lust for life has died.
I am no longer whole.

Infuse me with compassion.
I am weary of being hard.
I want to live in loving fashion,
Cast away emotion’s guard.

Send your coral hues to heal me,
Rose Moon, my lover dear.
I want the world to feel me
With love instead of fear.




By Carl Martin Johnson

Am I a character in your dream?
If you wake, will I be gone?
Am I not really what I seem?
Will I vanish when comes the dawn?

When I touch you, are you guiding?
Willing my hands to roam your skin?
Is it you who is deciding
What I do and how I sin?

Will we make love slow or faster?
Do you make all the rules?
Or is there a DreamMaster
Who plays us both as fools?





By Carl Martin Johnson

I chose a star for you last night.
It was sparkling pure and clean.
There were others twice as bright,
But it was the bluest star I’ve seen.


A lustrous sapphire jewel,
Icy azure flame,
Burning angel breath as fuel,
God’s wonder to proclaim.


I’ll wish it into your heart.
It will light the beauty there.
You are God’s work of art.
There is none alive so fair.




By Carl Martin Johnson

In the depths of night I hear you,
Calling silently my name.
Luring me ever near you
Like a moth to the candle’s flame.

I would come if I were able,
Were you more than just a dream.
Not a siren in a fable,
Living only in moonbeam.

By Carl Martin Johnson

I kept my poems in my heart,
Until you came along.
I was only guarding them on your part.
Your soul’s where they belong.

There each verse, a tender seed,
Will bloom into a dream.
Our sweet love is all they need
To both our lives redeem.




By Carl Martin Johnson

The mirror showed a comely face,
With youthful beauty left behind.
She looked close to see the grace
Still there, though hard to find.


Had she wasted all her youth
In vain and selfish living?
Perhaps she had, in truth.
But life had been forgiving.


Behind her in the reflection
Her handsome lover stood.
He was no longer perfection,
Yet few men looked as good.


They would not grow old alone.
And they were far from their lives end.
Each the other’s heart would own.
Now each was lover, each was friend.


By Carl Martin Johnson

It is true you are not mine,
But I will love you without sorrow.
Let our bodies intertwine,
For there may be no tomorrow.


Breathe Her Name Softly
All My Loves
The December Woman
Touch Me In The Morning
Phantom Lover
The Muse
Some Days
Rose Moon
Mommy's Star
A Character In Your Dream
Are You Real
A Star For You
Dream Lover
Siren Song
Stealing You
Love Late
Blue Dress
For You
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