Invisible Drive-by Shooting

Blood-shot masterpiece
Stripped pavement
In the company of flies.
Rage and its motion.

Loss has already taken the fire escape.
Broken glasses,
Abandoned lives.

Discharged algorithm.

Take me in this minute
from the outer limits.

Sonja J. Johnston © 17-Jun-2014

Turn Around

Why don't you get out of my yard?
Who invited you to take your stay?
You act as if this is your a birthplace
As you try to leave your mark.

Give me back my space.
Give me back that stuff you stole.
Just a crack in the wall
Gets you through like a small rodent.

I know you beat your kids
But I'm not giving up my goods.
Go back home with your delinquent pride.


Four and twenty
You want plenty
But you need to get spayed
And now my time is frayed.

Just last week I was pushing you out the door
Gold miner looking for some medicine.
Took my toilet paper and tried to take my man.
That's it and that’s all.

I have no more.
You have no credit.
I’m not a store
You don’t pay for.

I know it’s all going to change
You’ll find the next one to dredge
And drag them down into your demise
Evil in the disguise of hurt.

All for something
Left for nothing.
Where do your little boys go?
No wonder they only speak a handful of words.
What’s the sense
When they call every man Daddy?


© -Sonja J. Johnston 25-Feb-2014

Noted the military man

Your character of steel is
Wound so tight to places one could
Easily dismiss.

Frought anger in that protective place,
Battling that bullet-proof mind of yours.
Slammed with defiance.

We ran the roads therein collapsing.

Plans were suspect and pulled.
My chaired chaperone.


Let’s play a game of illuminator!
Scrap-yard maker.
Inaudible audiences surmise
the inflatable atmosphere.

Opening the wound lets the sun shine in
While security likes to check everything twice.
Giving fire to one’s breath,
Sucked in and held.

Souler-Gypsies advanced upon us
Blowing hands and blessing our backs.

Breaking the glass,
And allowing an opening.

© 1-Dec-2011 Sonja J. Johnston