Tag Archives: relationship

Superhero’s Symphony

Superhero’s Symphony, Michael N. Johns, 06/09/2015

I stormed the prison walls at night.
I overcame the guards by stealth,
Seized the keys of your prison cell,
And thus, freed, you and I took flight.

If I were a super hero,
Bursting your bonds to rescue you,
This little story might be true.
Alas, it’s just a metaphor.

In truth I only wish it were,
So I could be your super man,
Your heart, the prize, and I its’ fan,
I labored, played my overture,

And won, I thought. Your heart was mine.
Our symphony had just begun,
The staves promised the sweetest run…
I played wrong notes on the next line.

“Stop the music, back to the cue,
Where’s the hero who won my heart?”
Tired, and headed back to the start,
Trudging slower, trying to get through,

It’s not easy, and you tease me,
Make me change, try, try again,
If I could be your super man,
I would just know, be strong, succeed,

Looking back I clearly can see
My heart’s locked in your prison cell
I don’t want out, the truth to tell
But I wish you’d come rescue me.

“You’re Not Cool”

The truth hurts whether it is spoken or not,
I’m not “hip,” and I’m not “hot,”
No “swag,” no “feels,” nothing to see,
Not whatever it’s à la mode to be-
Not “in,” not “with it,” not “making the scene,”
And I’ve never been, but why is she so mean?

It would have been bad enough just as an eye roll-
The superior side glance, the laughs, extract their toll,
But she said “you’re not cool.”  It still hurts inside,
In the moment I could have just cried.
She doesn’t like me, or care if I’ve died.
Is there someplace I can crawl under and hide?

She’s so pretty, I love her laugh, her smile,
Her ease of being, her walk, her style
I feel so awkward, and she is cool,
She’s so smooth, and I’m just a “tool.”
God, I love her, but she has no idea.
And now how could I ever say how I feel?


Why does the alcoholic crave the next drink
Mourning the empty flagon
Dropped in the sink
As one grieving life’s end
For an old friend?

Why does the oil need vinegar so bad
Yet separate until shaken?
Dressing salad,
The best flavors depend
On a good blend

Why does the drug addict crave the next fix?
Fearing supplier’s conviction
Locked behind bricks
The body cries out for more,
Silent tremor.

Why do the magnet ends now push, now pull?
Polarized love, or rejection
She’s whimsical
By choice.  When she turns around,
He’ll rebound.

Why do I need you while you don’t need me
You’re my favorite addiction
Damaging me.
I always come back for more.  
Soaring, or sore.

I want you to crave me, need me, hold me
Me: living earthquake, shaken,
Magnet ending,
Locked out, starving without you.
What shall I do?


The wick was white as purest snow,
The candle, blood scarlet,
She struck the match, certain, and slow,
Tongue touched to lips, to wet,
The sanguine wine never felt shame,
And wax began to melt,
Her fingers danced, played with the flame,
Assessing what she felt,

The tears she cried had been replaced
With resolve toward a new goal,
The pain she knew, an old friend, traced
The outline of her soul.
The molten wet pooled at the base,
And froze as it grew cold,
Now blackened thread, once soft as lace,
Turned hardened, crisp, and old.

The death inside felt dull and thick,
To abdomen and spine,
She felt used, like the wax and wick,
And sipped forgiving wine,
Burgundy peace and clarity,
The small flame, warmth and light
Now, shadows danced jovially,
The chains and pains took flight.

She wondered how she’d been so blind,
Allowed such searing grief
She left the burdens far behind,
The pen, sword of relief.
Her freedom’s proclamation, signed,
She smiled, victoriously.
Settling her heart, with dreams in mind,
“From now on is for me.”