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Johnny Cammish

Johnny Cammish

Stars

Stars dance before me
In low pixilation
But the wonder of it!
I could press my face
To the glowing screen
And forget I live
In this imperfect world.
Among the stars
Being lonely seems
More justified as
You are alone in
The void of space.
It is better that no one
Can hear you cry
From the lack of air,
Rather than no one
There who will care.

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Otras obras de Johnny Cammish...
General Announcement

Could I have my heart back please… I’m making this a general announce… As i’ve lost track of where it is Or whoever has it right now I can’t tell if it’s getting passe…
 1
Online

I don’t want to have to say it Online, through text And certainly not phone. I want to swallow my fear, To say my piece,
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Water

I drink far less water than I sho… And usually when I do I am breaking for breath Or singing too hard Nothing is better though
 1
Love by Degrees

Through trouble taken, and confidence shaken, through stress and pain, hard work yet little gain, I have fret endlessly.
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Caught

Beat your chest then Bellow and threaten Gnash your fearsome, Perfect teeth You, brute
Making Time

You’d think it was magic the way You can’t make time What do I do then? Do I dance naked under the moon In blood rituals or some such beca…
 1
Coffee

Coffee is something of a ritual Standing tall, I repeat the mantr… “Flat White Please” Sometimes to go but best to stay As I sit and stare at your eyes
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Candles

Flickering uncertainly but still certainly flickering our candle dripped we had trays of wax time and trauma saw to that
Lakeside

Stood in the dark stopped on the pavement beneath th… that I can’t see but I know is th… because I can smell it. looking at the lights on the lake…
Tea

I can see the water vapour rising steam is invisible the bit between warm gold and
A Moth

A moth asks Do we know what it is To actually love? As it gets swatted at I can’t remember what it was like…
Airy Nothing

It would seem I am stuck With a seething mind. So I see three roles before me; Would that I could - I feel that I should,
Tabletop

A table, covered in bills and book… A bowl of cereal scattered cables And mugs of tea, coffee and I’m out of orange juice Missing screws and balancing badly
Takeaway

Once a week was just right? Greasy, slippery with fat Forever too much but right regardl… And you’d finish me in the morning I was your takeaway.
A Tragic Tale

How hard is it to write in formal… In sonnet form with proper metre? A few short words written in rever… A rhythm that must not be let pete… And a story, usually of love



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