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Chuck JohnsonShow poetry

The mind is a cistern
a cesspool of thought
occasionally inspired
usually not.

Poetry is the art of imagination mixed with the language of choice, the creativity of the mind, and the effects of the senses. Poems do not necessarily reflect the personal thoughts or beliefs of the Poet. I think when you browse a Poet's page, you should take the poems for what they are and not what you may think they reflect. Like an Artist who paints a canvas and creates a scene of heavenly beauty, that painting does not mean he is religious. As you browse my poems, remember, they are just reflections of my desire to be poetic at that point in time and not necessarily an accurate nor descriptive reflection of my beliefs or thought processes. I do allow my daily life to infulence my poems, but that does not mean it is an accurate reflection of my existance, thoughts, beliefs, or intentions. Nor does it mean I'm directing them towards anyone. Often I will send my poems out for some feedback. Sending them does NOT mean the poem is written about anyone. All artists desire feedback no matter the medium they are using. No matter what happens somebody will find a way to take it too seriously.

"You see, but you do not observe."
Arthur Conan Doyle
(1859-1930)

Errors and misconceptions no doubt remain, and are my own.

Now please enjoy yourself here.

"The weight of a burden of life can exceed the benefits of living but then our family and loved ones enter our sight and that makes living worth enduring. " Me.


This site may not be reproduced anywhere else. Copying is prohibited

" The Poet makes himself a seer by a long, vast and reasoned derangement of the senses - every form of love, of suffering, of madness." - Arthur Rimbaud


My Lists

Poems I'm focused on

  • The monsters live among us
    in the hearts of women and men
    61 lines, 43 comments, January 18. In Society
  • Where is God on the battlefield
    Where is a lost soul to go
    57 lines, 23 comments, October 14, 2007. In Life, Sad, Society, Military
  • She enticed me with her beauty
    She intrigued me with her words
    54 lines, 29 comments, September 13, 2007. In Life, Love, Pain, Dark
  • There are very few women in the world
    who have been truly beautiful. Very few.
    50 lines, 103 comments, October 31, 2005. In Love
  • Their only shelter, crude rocks gathered, their only companion a dog.
    Ravaged by winds that tore and tear, surrounded by the fog.
    151 lines, 39 comments, August 11, 2004. In Humor, Dark, Hope
  • That night as I walked the field of battle once more;
    Stepping over the dead, in my mind, evermore;
    29 lines, 37 comments, April 5, 2004. In Society, Other, Dark, Dedication, Memorial
  • Two Boots
    Side By Side
    18 lines, 16 comments, January 7, 2004. In Spiritual, Society, Dark, Memorial
  • The silence of serenity and the echoing sound it makes,
    across distances so lovely, vast empty landscapes.
    10 lines, 24 comments, January 5, 2004. In Spiritual, Nature, Love
  • Whoopi Ti Yi Ya! I'm lonely you know.
    Sittin' in the middle of the desert, long side of this road.
    136 lines, 35 comments, January 4, 2004. In Love, Humor, Hope
  • Now the end is near I feel its icy touch.
    “Please God!” “Stop our suffering, is it asking so much?”
    118 lines, 40 comments, January 4, 2004. In Spiritual, Nature, Hope
  • I don't want no dang Christmas Presents.
    I don't want no dang Christmas Songs.
    33 lines, 17 comments, December 30, 2003. In Humor
  • The dog drooped his tail and looked wonderously sad.
    36 lines, 37 comments, December 18, 2003. In Humor

My Poetry

1 - 4 of 247   Show all Search
  • I'm not a rich man
    nor even broke.
    64 lines, 3 comments, August 21
  • When the dark angel decends upon your life
    and announces the end of breathing
    19 lines, 1 comment, August 10
  • When the sun sets and its shadow lengthens
    and the tint goes from pink to gray
    21 lines, 1 comment, August 2. In Personal, Pain, Sad
  • When the walls sweat
    I can almost taste their tears
    33 lines, 7 comments, July 31. In War, Society

My Stories

1 - 4 of 2   Show all at storywrite
  • It was dark when she spoke to me.  I was sound asleep.   That cry in the night as her water broke woke me up.   We were miles from the hospital and I had just fi
    782 lines, 6 comments, May 25, 2005. In <200 lines, Other
  • A single tear escaped his eye.   The first of many more tears to come.   His dirty hand wiped his face but it only smeared the mud around.    The night was
    195 lines, 9 comments, December 10, 2004. In <200 lines, Other

Visitor Book

1 - 2 of 2
  • Mark Rickerby on March 21
    Hey Chuck,

    I just read A Friend Departed and was so touched by it. It reminded me of a song by David Wilcox. He basically sung a poem written by a nurse in a hospital in the Philippines during WWII. It's called Let Them In, Peter. I thought you particularly might enjoy it. Here are the words -

    Let them in, Peter.
    They are very tired.
    Give them couches where the angels sleep
    and light those fires.
    Let them wake whole again
    to brand new dawns
    fired by the sun,
    not wartime's bloody guns.

    May their peace be deep.
    Remember where the broken bodies lie.
    God knows how young they were
    to have to die.

    So give them things they like.
    Let them make some noise
    Give dance hall bands, not golden harps
    to these, our boys.
    And let them love, Peter,
    for they've had no time.
    They should have trees,
    birdsongs, hills to climb,
    the taste of summer
    in a ripened pear
    and girls sweet as meadow wind
    with flowing hair.

    Tell them how they are missed
    but say not to fear.
    It's gonna be alright
    with us down here.

    Let them in, Peter.
    Let them in, Peter.
    Let them in, Peter.


  • AnnD on December 21, 2007
    MyHotComments.com
    MyHotComments
    I just dropped by to wish you and yours Happy Holidays. AnnD

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