Poets Die. Poets Out of Service. poems by Michael Lee Johnson

Poets Die (V2) Why do poets die; linger in youth addicted to death. They create culture but so crippled. They seldom harm except themselves— why not let them live? Their only crime is words they shout them out in anger cry out loud, vulgar in private places like Indiana cornfields. In fall, poets stretch armsContinue reading “Poets Die. Poets Out of Service. poems by Michael Lee Johnson”

Group Therapy. A poem by Michael Lee Johnson

Group Therapy Wind chimes. It’s going to rain tonight, thunder. I’m going to lead the group tonight talking about Rational Emotive Therapy, belief challenges thought change, Dr. Albert Ellis. I’m a hero in my self-worship, self-infused patient of my pain, thoughtful, probabilistic atheism with a slant toward Jesus in private. Rules roll gently creeping throughContinue reading “Group Therapy. A poem by Michael Lee Johnson”

Poetry by Michael Lee Johnson

Flower Girl  Poems are hard to create they live, then die, walk alone in tears, resurrect in family mausoleums. They walk with you alone in ghostly patterns, memories they deliver feeling unexpectedly through the open windows of strangers. Silk roses lie in a potted bowl memories seven days before Mother’s Day. Soak those tears, patienceContinue reading “Poetry by Michael Lee Johnson”

Kansas, Old Abandoned House. An ekphrastic poem by Michael Lee Johnson

Kansas, Old Abandoned House House, weathered, bashed in grays, spiders, homespun surrounding yellows and pinks on a Kansas, prairie appears lonely tonight. The human theater lives once lived here inside are gone now, buried in the back, dark trail behind that old outhouse. Old wood chipper in the shed, rustic, worn, no gas, no thunder,Continue reading “Kansas, Old Abandoned House. An ekphrastic poem by Michael Lee Johnson”