Michael Lee Johnson

I Am Old Frustrated Thought

I am old frustrated thought
I look into my once eagle eyes
and find them dim before my dead mother,
I see through clouded egg whites with days
passing by like fog feathers.
I trip over old experiences and expressions,
try hard to suppress them or revisit them;
I’m a fool in my damn recollections,
not knowing what to keep and what to toss out
but the dreams flow like white flour and deceive
me till they capture the nightmare of the past images
in a black blanket wrapped up
and wake me before my psychiatrist.
I only see this nut once every three months.
It is at times like these I know not where I walk
or venture. I trip over my piety and spill my coffee cup.
I seek sanctuary in the common place of my nowhere life.
Solid footing is a struggle in the sock of depression
it is here the days pass and the years slip like ice cubes.

Rose Petals in a Dark Room
 
I walk in a mastery of the night and light
my money changers walk behind me
they are fools like clowns in a shadow of sin,
they’re busy as bees as drunken lovers,
Sodom and Gomorrah before the salt pillar falls.
 
In a shadow of red rose pedals
drunken lovers walk changing Greek and Roman
currency to Jewish or Tyrian money-
they are fools, all fools, at what they do.
 
Everyone’s life is a conflict.
 
They are my lovers and my sinners
I can’t sleep at night without them
by my bed or the sea of Galilee.
Fish in cloth nets are my friends and my converts.
I pray in my garden alone; while all the rest
who love beside me sleep behind their innocence.
The rose is a tender thorn compared to my arrest.
and soon crucifixion.
 
It is here the morning and the night come together,
where the sea and the land part;
where the building crumbles
and I trust not myself to them.
 
I am but a poet of the ministry,
rose petals in a dark room fall.
Everyone’s life is a conflict.
But mine is mastery of light and night
and I walk behind the footsteps of no one.
 

Michael Lee Johnson © 2010