Every now and then, it's a good idea for a poet to get out of his own tormented mind and write about someone else. So I'd like to say a few words about my best friend on this site - Chuck Johnson.
I could write a long list of all the reasons I admire him, but the main reason is he's a career soldier who has seen and been through things that would make most people's hair stand on end - things that might have made a weaker man an embittered cynic - but Chuck has managed to become exactly the opposite - a kind-hearted, supportive, generous and loving gentleman-poet.
Chuck's writing has the ability to change lives, and not by lecturing but by the profound love of life that they contain and express. Even in his darker writings, drawn from two tours in Vietnam and the ghosts that must still haunt him from those years, his love of life and compassion for others can still be felt beneath the words.
You won't find Chuck lecturing anyone, no matter how much their opinions differ from his. He teaches by example, not finger-wagging or chastising, and from the vast wealth of his experience, as all great teachers do.
Another of Chuck's great and endearing traits - perhaps the greatest one - is his ability to laugh at himself and his own human frailties. In doing so, he reminds us not to take ourselves so seriously, which is always the first step to happiness.
The writing below is taken from Chuck's author page. The author is unknown but it may as well have been written by him. In fact, I was sure it was when I first read it.
"I am now, probably for the first time in my life, the person I have always wanted to be. Oh, not my body! I sometime despair over my body, the wrinkles, the baggy eyes, and the sagging butt. And often I am taken aback by that old person that lives in my mirror (who looks like my mother!), but I don't agonize over those things for long. I would never trade my amazing friends, my wonderful life, my loving family for less gray hair or a flatter belly.
As I've aged, I've become more kind to myself, and less critical of myself. I've become my own friend. I don't chide myself for eating that extra cookie, or for not making my bed, or for buying that silly cement gecko that I didn't need, but looks so avant garde on my patio. I am entitled to a treat, to be messy, to be extravagant.
I have seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon; before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging. Whose business is it if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 AM and sleep until noon? I will dance with myself to those wonderful tunes of the 60 & 70's, and if I, at the same time, wish to weep over a lost love ... I will. I will walk the beach in a swim suit that is stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with abandon if I choose to, despite the pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old.
I know I am sometimes forgetful. But there again, some of life is just as well forgotten. And I eventually remember the important things. Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or when a child suffers, or even when somebody's beloved pet gets hit by a car? But broken hearts are what give us strength and understanding and compassion. A heart never broken is pristine and sterile and will never know the joy of being imperfect.
I am so blessed to have lived long enough to have my hair turning gray, and to have my youthful laughs be forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed, and so many have died before they lose their hair. As you get older, it is easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don't question myself anymore. I've even earned the right to be wrong.
So, I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I have become. I am not going to live forever, but while I am still here, I will not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worrying about what will be. And I shall eat dessert every single day. (If I feel like it.)"
Here's a poem by Chuck titled My Love of Life and it shows just that, along with his deep reverence for nature -
My Love of Life
When I walk among the woods
I smell the scents of nature
I see the way she nurtures life
and I love the way she loves me
She caresses me with sound
and the happy sounds abound
A chipmunk serenades me
with a chirping refrain
He may be upset with me
as I traverse his domain
I stop and see an anthill
So busy, like a million bees
They scurry back and forth
carrying more then they can eat
That sure is neat
My steps bring me to a deep woodland glade
I wander among the ferns and pines
Dust coats my shoes
once so shiny and new
I like it
This is where I grew
No matter how far I roam
No matter how far I stray
I know that when I return
I know this
is where I want to stay
I’m so glad to be here today.
The shadows create sunbeams
that shine through the canopy
illuminating with light
a million natural delights
This is a journey of discovery
for there is so much life
from the moss to the deer
some silent and some I hear
and something as simple
as a meandering stream
has always been the essence of my dreams
I walk looking around
not forgetting to look up
and down
I wish to discover the wonders
to taste the treasures
to avoid the dangers
to experience all of nature
Is nature a woman
or a man
Is nature a spirit
or God's plan
I don't know
I only know that I love
the way things are done
from shaded glens
to meadows in the sun
From the warm wind
to the cloud dappled sky
and even the chill
of a deep winter freeze
I love it all
I'll have more.
Please!
Also check out this poem, which shows Chuck’s storytelling abilities. It’s called Dog Town.
http://allpoetry.com/poem/762679
You can also find more of Chuck’s writings at his personal website - http://www.charlesallenjohnson.com/
In the course of writing this little tribute to Chuck, he did the most unbelievable thing. He spent the better part of a day creating a website for me. Has anyone else here ever done that for anyone? I’m still flabbergasted. (I told you he was generous.) Please check it out when you have a second, and leave a message on Chuck’s author page about it. The gesture is so grand, I need your help to thank him enough. *happy* The address is - http://www.freewebs.com/markrickerby
(I just realized it may not be such a good idea to mention that. Chuck’s going to get flooded with requests from people wanting him to create a site for them, too! ☺
Truth be told, I sometimes worry about Chuck. The soldier’s path has many rewards, but it’s not an easy one. The men who fight for those who can’t fight for themselves often end up haunted regardless of whether or not the cause was good. But I am heartened and my worries are soothed when I read his poems because they are full of wonder, kindness, warmth, humor and, most of all, love. His natural generosity has produced a full life surrounded by good friends, of which I am proud to be one. I will leave you with this poem, one of my personal favorites by Chuck, that demonstrate his appreciation of and loyalty toward anyone he calls “friend”.
When our drops gather at the river,
to which all the streams go.
How can we understand the boulders,
around which the river flows?
I write this a little hurried,
Just a touch not a grasp.
Yet, in its message is a reminder,
of many times in my past.
I remember when I was but a drop,
and there was a continent left to cross.
Gravity seemed to grab and drag me.
The easiest way was always my loss.
Now I'm with my ocean of friends,
Gathered close and clinging around.
Supportive in the things we do.
I rarely have a frown.
Please stop by Chuck's author page at http://allpoetry.com/Chuck%20Johnson and let him know how much he is loved around here.
Thanks for reading.
Mark
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Because of your friendship with, and your tribute to, Chuck Johnson, I will be adding him to my list of favorites to remind me to read his poems and to learn more about him. I'll stop by his author page now to let him know I want to get to know him better because of reading what you had to say about him.
To be thought of and spoken of as a good friend is one of the nicest compliments we can give each other. Having said that, I want you to know I think of you as a good friend and it gives me great pleasure to say that.
Have a great day!
<3 Maureen
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I agree with you he is truly a friend that gives his all, I have known him since way back in 2006? HE has
the heart of Gold and an attitude of a man with stamina, your dedication to his is so worthy ...we are blessed to have him in our AP lives... thank you for sharing...
OPG
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This shows your true character Mark. A lot of the things you said about your good friend Chuck, I see, those qualities in you. You are a good person and honoring your friend like this much have touched his heart to the core.
Bravo!!! Criss
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I want Chuck to be my best friend too!
This is such a wonderful way to tribute a friend! I will check out those web sites. Nice you two are both blessed with such great friends!
Hope all is well and Happy Spring!
Michelle
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Freindship. It's a wonderful and blessed thing. You are an amazing soul to acknowledge that. Chuck is as lucky to have you as a friend as you feel to have him.
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Thank you, Mark.
Its two tours in SEA, not three. I think you flatter me. Thanks for that. Much better would be to recognize the others, including you, here at AllPoetry. There are so many gifted individuals here. Much better poets that I will ever be. I find that poetry comes to me from emotions and those emotions come from my heart as felt by my mind. Expressing them is hard. The words seem to eminate from somewhere in the air and find their way onto my screen. I'm sure thats the way it is with everyone. Mark, your talent far outshines mine. I'm limited by my past into sheltered coves of thought, while your horizons are far past my limited view of the skyline.
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Chuck,
Sorry about the error re. the SEA tours. I have corrected that.
Regarding your comment that it would be better to recognize others, I must respectfully disagree. You may feel that others are more "gifted" than you are. I feel the same way about myself. I tend to compare myself to the best - writers like Kazantzakis, Hesse, Hemingway, Twain, Steinbeck, etc., but as my own author page says, "I judge people by their heart, not their level of talent."
Have you ever been to a play at a small community theater and ended up feeling more moved by the performances and the play as a whole than you ever were at one of the lavish Broadway productions? I happens to me all the time. Sometimes what an artist tries to do is enough, and ends up being more effective than some glossy, technically correct performance. Sometimes, an artist who is still humble, as you are, and who struggles to create great work, as you say you do, can produce work that is more profound than some "masterpiece" from a scholarly, self-assured, falsely humble poet. Bertolt Brecht wrote, "Passion without precision is chaos." I would add that precision without passion is boring. I'll choose passion over precision every time. Having a POINT is always important to me, too, which your poems always do.
I'll steal another line from my infinitely long author page to further illustrate my point.
"While these teachers said that we would appreciate poems much more if we understood the virtues of iambic pentameter, allusion, and the resonance of repetition, they would not have us dismember a poem's anatomy at the risk of its soul, or squeeze meaning from it at the expense of delight." (Bill Moyers)
So just keep pouring your heart and soul into your poems, and I'll keep reading them, and I won't give a damn about an occasional technical error, just as I love and accept those closest to me for their beautiful qualities without obsessing over their imperfections. In fact, their imperfections often only make them dearer to me.
Love you, pal.
Mark
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