Johnny's Poems

Johnny Keohan

March 25, 2009

Winter

You cannot hide from me,

I will follow you,

I am all around,

No place to escape,

I give everything a sheet of white,

Trees die, but Santa comes,

I give so many joy,

But annoy many others.

Guilt

The fire is growing,

No way out,

You have to tell,

But no, you can’t,

They’ll find out one way or another,

You should tell, wait no, maybe not,

They’ll be angry one way or another,

Maybe they’ll understand, or not,

What should you do?

No way out.

The cat

Man I hate that cat,

Looking at me with those emerald eyes,

Such sorrow in them,

Whispering, telling me not to go,

I never believe those sorrowful eyes,

But maybe I’ll regret that later,

But that’s later,

But still those sorrowful, emerald eyes wouldn’t lie,

Those hypnotic emerald eyes.

The River

Just sitting, watching the fish in the river is a treat,

I wouldn’t care if I didn’t catch any fish at all,

Just sitting, watching fish swim is enough,

I could just sit there, all day and all night,

Each one has their own story to tell me,

Listening to their stories is a treat for me,

So many to listen too,

So many going about their own business,

But some pause to tell me their own story,

Just sitting, listening to the fish is a treat for me.

Ode to the bathroom flies

All the brave bathroom flies that died that fateful night,

When the giant named Johnny came and killed them,

In twos and threes, fours and fives he killed them,

They were squished and squashed in a variety of ways,

Down the drain and down in the toilet, even in the shower,

They called reinforcements, but he killed them too,

By sixes and sevens they got squished and squashed,

Shot them with water, soap, conditioner, shampoo,

Squished by his hand covered in water or soap,

So none got away,

To all the bathroom flies that died that fateful night.