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Chuck Johnson

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  • Column: Friendships from AllPoetry.com at allpoetry
    Friendships developed on Allpoetry.com, unique, lasting, true friendships are there if you need, desire, or are just lucky enough to enter one. I have been lucky in the friends I've met here on this site and in real life. Today I met such a friend fro
  • An Army of Ants at allpoetry
    I've walked like an Army of Ants
    past rocks grey, some damp
  • Murderers Child at allpoetry
    Sometimes I feel like a murderers child
    Sometimes I feel Like a murderers child

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  • on Adieu, Adieu! My Native Shore by Lord George Gordon Byron, on November 18, 2005
    sea mew

    NOUN: Any of various seagulls, especially Larus canus, of Europe

  • on He Died At His Post by J W Holman, on June 10, 2005
    This is so true then and now. During WWII, the Nazi hordes raided into Poland, gathered up 20,000+ Polish military officers, scholars, and anyone with a high school education and up. Then took them into the forests to murder. Mass graves give a reality check into the thinking of these crazed men. Now, the Taliban have gathered up the religious zealots and are pitting them against us in our attempts to help people who have suffered over 300,000 dead in just 20 years by the hand of a madman. We are facing war in its new form. The war of madmen bent on destruction of anything that does not bring them wealth and power. They will use aircraft as weapons, humans as bombs, and children as future cannon fodder. How safe we are thanks to our soldiers who guard our shores from their madness.

  • on The Shooting of Dan McGrew by Robert W Service, on April 5, 2005
    He is my inspiration and mentor. I have watched his "adventure" poems from time afar and enjoyed his evey tale,
    no matter how distant nor far.

  • on The Timber by Henry Vaughan, on June 5, 2004
    In those days of confusion, long ago, our distant relatives gathered to watch the river flow. Their eyes attracted by the rivers waves and gentle eddy flow. Their minds attracted by the small talk and the preachers gentle flow. Some were filled with anger and it could only grow, while some were filled with love extending its soothing flow. Now the dearly departed rests in repose, dirt covers their sins and the river onward ever flows.