Michael Bassey Johnson
Biography of Michael Bassey Johnson
Michael Bassey Johnson Poems
Faceless king, looking at the vast creatures of dusts. Seeing without saying a dime. You kill and steal,
A Letter To The Frigid Freak In Miami
Weird woman of miami, looking at the skyscrapper, with heavy chest loads. You hate the gentleman in black,
It started like a queep, and you turn a geek in the eyes of freaks. Your scribbling was infantile, and your mind was blank. Scornful people are jealous souls, for your works tethers and blinds their imaginations, for nothing so interesting they can grasp.
What The Writer Feels
We hold the pen, we write, at anywhere, at anytime. The muse descends, and we ascend, into the vast arena of thoughts, flashes and glimpses. I walk along the boulevard, and kept wandering, until i got my dough.
A Journey Through The Horrible Landscape
Running through the devil's tunnel, gasping for breathe, Into the vantage lanscape of dread, filled with voilence and frustrations. Pangs of hunger...oliver twist; i stoop low to ask for more. Trivial barriers here and there, outraged, it sucks.
Broken Bones And The Rich Man's Skeleton
I found the old dirty coffin, where the old rich man was laid. Skull and ribs apart, carpals and tarsals. I spread the rumor that i found his femur, and the old brown teeth in pieces;
You dare to sleep? But thy oppressor stays awake. Adept somnambulist, perusing the deadly hours. It seeks blood, nothing but blood. For when thy eyes fall, through its caressing evil breeze, it comes in with its hosts, to drain out thy soul.
Shy To Say A Word
Paranoid feelings. Heart-beats up and down, for it sees what looks like strange. Some women can't comprehend, the veil upon my heart, and they hate eccentricity as death.
...cry when nobody is hearing, love, when it is not returned; eat not, for you think of love, which is never visible.
Morning comes and goes, noon comes and goes, and here is the eventide; a golden caressing sun,
Loose Lustres Of Pulchritude
Beauty in the heavens, Beauty in the seas, beauty in the sky, beauty in the wind,
Morning comes and goes,
noon comes and goes,
and here is the eventide;
a golden caressing sun,
with its friendly breeze,
whispering in soft tunes.
Inspire me, o yellow sun, and speak to my empty heart,
for i know not the direction,
to come or go,