Carl Martin Johnson
Poet, Author, Slayer of Dragons
© Carl Martin Johnson, All rights reserved
FEEL THE EARTH
By Carl Martin Johnson
Spread your body on the earth.
Concentrate on what you feel.
Find the spirit giving birth
To ideas that are more than real.
Move with the planet’s breathing,
Quiver with her vibrations,
Her warm energy feel seething
With pure divine sensations.
Let your heart absorb her force,
Send its roots into her center,
Deep into wisdom’s source
To let the Vision enter.
Be one then….united.
Earth be you and you be her.
Your mind’s pathway will be lighted.
The Vision will no longer be a blur.
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REAL?
By Carl Martin Johnson
Did I awake this dawn?
Or was I being born?
What I now see before that gone?
Did I create the world this morn?
The memories in my mind,
Did those events occur?
Will I later find
None of those things were?
Is this the day of creation?
Is the world’s creator me?
Is it my imagination?
Is illusion all I see?
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HARD TIMES
By Carl Martin Johnson
Long as I remember,
Hard times been comin’ ‘round.
January through December,
No letup I have found.
Troubles keep on droppin’,
Heavy as monsoon rain.
Seems like never stoppin’,
Never endin’ pain.
But it will not last much longer.
Life is hard, but in the end,
Every trial just makes me stronger.
I know I’m goin’ to win.
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LOVE IS TODAY
By Carl Martin Johnson
I may never see you again,
But today I love you dearly.
All our kisses may be sin,
Yet with you I see life clearly.
I know we were meant to meet,
To be lifted from our sorrow.
Now we are at last complete,
Though we have no tomorrow.
You will return to another’s bed.
He will hold you in the night.
But you will think of the things we’ve said,
When his body presses tight.
When you writhe and in passion scream,
Will your heart call out my name?
Will it be my face in your lust’s dream,
Lit soft by true love’s flame?
This moment now is our forever.
It is our eternity.
Let us swear our soul’s will never
Set one another free.
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BLINK OF AN EYE
By Carl Martin Johnson
He blinked, and when he opened his eyes,
His whole world had changed.
What he once thought true seemed lies.
Life was rearranged.
His heart had near stopped beating.
Why had he not seen before?
The new reality he was meeting
Was reached through a frightening door.
He saw he was more than just a man.
He had something hard to do.
He was part of a greater plan.
He was worried now he knew.
Still, he would “man up” to it.
He was scared, but he was tough.
Somehow he would get through it.
He was God enough.
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WHEN SHALL I TAKE YOU?
By Carl Martin Johnson
Shall I take you in the twilight hues,
When your body is painted gold?
In the cool grass, if so you choose,
Naked, unashamed, and bold?
Or shall we love at midnight,
As the cool breeze soothes our skin,
With the darkness to forbid sight,
And keep us hidden with our sin?
I could be with you in full day,
If that would give you pleasure.
Your wishes I will obey,
For your happiness I treasure.
I am yours to command,
My body and my soul.
Any time you take my hand,
You make my being whole.
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THE EAR
By Carl Martin Johnson
I could see only her ear.
Her face was turned away.
It was sufficient to endear,
Enough to make me stay.
She sat alone quite near
In the happy crowded park.
My view of her was clear,
In spite of the growing dark.
The ear was a delicate flower,
Pink petals through auburn hair,
Drawing me with soft power,
Like a gentle cherub prayer.
Graceful lines I yearned to kiss,
Whisper love words in the night.
She turned my sorrow into bliss
With such a lovely sight.
Then she stood and left my world,
And, though I never saw her face,
How her marvelous ear was curled,
Is an image I won’t replace.
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THE MISSED FLIGHT
By Carl Martin Johnson
I heard the news just then
About a jet that crashed and burned.
What a tragedy that had been!
At the thought my stomach turned.
The details I heard were few.
I had to hurry to my flight.
On the way my worry grew,
But I’d missed one plane that night.
My trip was smooth but long.
I was going to be late.
I had timed things all wrong.
My client would have to wait.
I cursed as I disembarked.
My luck had all turned bad.
I ran to where my car was parked.
I had rarely been so mad.
Then I turned to the hourly news.
It made me grow faint and pale.
I’d had more to lose
Than just a client sale.
The aircraft that hit the ground
Was the one that I had missed.
I came close to not being around
Death’s lips I almost kissed.
I continued on my way,
But at a slower pace.
I had avoided dying that day
By luck or the Good Lord’s grace.
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THE REASON
By Carl Martin Johnson
Some days I only sit and feel,
With no conscious thought at all,
Trying to absorb the real
Amongst all the mental sprawl.
I let the Truth seep into me
From the Universal Mind.
Without words, I try to see
The reason for Mankind.
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THE WOLF’S SONG
By Carl Martin Johnson
I saw the wolf howl at the moon,
A haunting, lost soul’s cry.
Never had I heard such a mournful tune,
Like a demon about to die.
His plaintive notes enchanted.
They held me in sad rapture.
A sightless vision I was granted,
But the memory I cannot capture.
I drew closer in my trance,
Pulled in by the wolfen prayer,
Stars overhead swaying in acolyte dance,
Through the sulfur-scented air.
Suddenly to me the yellow eyes turned.
I saw what was held inside.
I felt then how his spirit burned.
Knew why the gray wolf cried.
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NEITHER BEG NOR YIELD
By Carl Martin Johnson
I don’t ask God for aid.
He equipped me well at birth.
So I am unafraid.
I know full well my worth.
Should I fall down to my knees,
It would insult my Lord, I feel.
Life has no guarantees.
It is a struggle, good but real.
The challenges make me strong.
I need no prayer shield.
In the battle I belong.
Life cannot make me yield.
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OLD JOEY AND HIS BLUES GUITAR
By Carl Martin Johnson
Joey slaps his old guitar,
And opens wide his heart.
He knows where the sacred blues notes are.
Joey makes his music art.
Watch his rough hands fly,
Make the sad chords tell the story,
How poor folk live and die,
Carry on, and wait for glory.
Joey, he don’t play for dollars,
But he’ll take what people give.
You can tell by how he hollers,
Joey sings the blues to live.
He wears old jeans and a flop hat.
Women love him just the same.
Those who know him tell you that
Joey don’t give a damn for fame.
His deep voice paints his tales
‘Bout how simple folks can hurt.
There’s hard life in the words he wails.
Like sharecroppin’ East Texas dirt.
Play now, my Brother Joe.
Pick it sad an’ sweet.
Tell us the world you know,
An’ the Heaven you hope to meet.
Set our heartbeat to your blues.
Show us the beauty and sorrow.
Your music pays your dues.
Gives us all hope for tomorrow.
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MOVE ON
By Carl Martin Johnson
I will move on down the road,
Leave the past behind me.
Matters not how much I’m owed,
Nor if enemies have maligned me.
I have no life to waste
On revenge or recrimination.
I flee from them in haste
To fresh life celebration.
My sins I do confess.
I do my best not to repeat them.
Yet I will not be less
If once again I greet them.
I do not claim perfection.
I’m an ordinary man.
Life has my affection.
I’ll do the best I can.
I’ll live for today.
The past won’t hold me down.
For my transgressions I will pay,
But they will not make me frown.
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LIGHT FROM A DISTANT STAR
By Carl Martin Johnson
The light came from a distant star
To glisten on her eye.
It had traveled very far
To sparkle on the drop she’d cry.
The starbeam began long ago.
It had taken many years.
But how did the faint blue star know
This night she’d be in tears?
It was the first her heart was broken.
The pain was hard to bear.
Cruelly harsh words had been spoken.
Now life seemed unfair.
But she looked out past the stardust
As she gazed into the night.
And through the traveled far dust
She saw life would be all right.
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A THOUGHT
By Carl Martin Johnson
A very fine thought has just flown past,
Sweet and clean and pure.
I wish it had not gone so fast.
It was a good one I am sure.
Perhaps, if I stay very still,
It will slow down and return.
I swear I surely hope it will,
For I have much to learn.
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BATTLE SKY
By Carl Martin Johnson
Fading eyes locked on the starbright sky,
Ears closed to the battle ‘round him.
He had prepared himself to die
From the bullets that had found him.
Scenes of beauty crossed his mind,
Sunsets and storm lightning.
Laughs and smiles of every kind
That made Death’s face less frightening.
For an instant he forgot the pain
Of his torn skin and flesh,
And was back home on the Texas plain
Where the air was clean and fresh.
He could not live, he knew, for long.
His wounds would overcome him.
But no fear, however strong,
Would take this last sweet moment from him
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SONG IN THE WIND
By Carl Martin Johnson
A song floated past me in the wind.
The singer I could not see.
I knew that, be he foe or friend,
The song was meant for me.
So I stopped to better hear,
And to appreciate.
All the notes were crisp and clear,
But the words did not translate.
The soulful ballad warmed my heart.
It soothed my troubled soul.
As if I’d been given a new start,
As if that were its goal.
I went to look for the golden throat,
To thank him for the gift,
To listen close to every note
That had given me this lift.
I found no one anywhere.
Not a living soul around.
Only a sweet smell in the air,
And an angel feather on the ground.
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I WILL EAT LIFE TODAY
By Carl Martin Johnson
I think I will eat life today.
I will breakfast on the dawn.
Gobble it up like curds and whey,
Until every morsel’s gone.
For lunch I’ll have the sun,
With its wonderful hot spice.
I’ll gorge until there’s none,
Happy to pay the price.
I will feast when falls the night,
On stars seasoning the sky,
Chewing the full moon glowing bright,
And repeat all until I die.
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I AM THAT STAR
By Carl Martin Johnson
I am that star up there,
The one brighter than the rest.
A glowing sphere beyond the air,
Balanced on the firmament’s crest.
That fiery orb homes my soul.
My mortal body I briefly use.
Where I live is that burning coal,
And I go there when I choose.
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AGAIN
By Carl Martin Johnson
In moments I’ll be born.
A new life on the earth.
No need my death to mourn.
I will have rebirth.
All the secrets I now know,
Having been in Divine Mind,
That knowledge I must let go,
Though some I may re-find.
My cycles will soon be done.
I will have learned all that I need.
What wanted winning will have been won.
My tired soul will at last be freed.
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LET ME IN
By Carl Martin Johnson
Here I come! They let me in.
It surprised me, too.
‘Cause I’m pretty full of sin.
I guess you angels knew.
Most of you winged ones disagreed.
You think I’m not Heavenly stuff.
But give a break to a soul in need.
You don’t have to be so tough.
Truth is, the Devil sent me here.
I suppose I really should tell.
Seems Old Satan had a fear
I might take over Hell.
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THE LONG CURVE OF YOUR SPINE
By Carl Martin Johnson
I licked the long curve of your spine,
Feasting on your earthy taste,
Thanking the gods that you were mine,
Watching the wet trail my tongue traced.
I grew hungry for your hips,
In the moonlight soft and round.
I explored them with my lips,
Savoring the fleshy flavor that I found.
Then I spread myself upon you,
Sweet mattress of desire,
My cravings feeding on you,
Hot from the oven of erotic fire.
Like a stallion, your neck I bit.
As that wild horse I rode you,
Convulsing in love-making fit,
With your hair as reins I bowed you.
We bound through sweet ecstasy’s gate,
I mounted on you, my galloping mare,
Hooves flaring with loving hate,
Bellowing loud brute passion’s prayer.
In a cloud of carnal dust
I blessed the long curve of your spine.
And the banquet of animal lust
With our true love as its wine.
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