{"id":2883,"date":"2017-02-20T20:44:32","date_gmt":"2017-02-20T20:44:32","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2883"},"modified":"2017-02-20T20:44:32","modified_gmt":"2017-02-20T20:44:32","slug":"michael-lee-johnson-winter-2017","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/michael-lee-johnson-winter-2017\/","title":{"rendered":"Michael Lee Johnson, Winter 2017"},"content":{"rendered":"

Crows<\/strong>
\nThose crows distant, dying,
\nsounds empty grave nests.
\nSound crow claws, West Nile virus.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

When Will These Vietnam War Poems End<\/strong>
\n(I am too Old for War Past and Present Tense)<\/strong><\/p>\n

I am too old for war.
\nI am on a road with worn out jeans,
\ncowboy hats, boots, leather vests, nothing more left of Alberta.
\nI was young, skinny, thought I was bright.
\nGreen, I was strong, Indiana oak trees.
\nI was 6’4, tall giraffe available
\ndraft minus one and heading Canadian North.
\nI certainly had piety in my green eyes.
\nMy counselor was anxiety and fear.
\nDetroit guns, riots, 1967, pistol on my car seat.
\nPolice were on the backside of my license plates.
\nWhen will these war, poems end?
\nForty-three years out back to the past
\nrevival forward, carry lead shield.
\nElders, children, and friends,
\nmake judgments to this day.
\nDo not get fancy with words.
\nWarrior is\/was a sinner, a history maker.
\nSleep peaceful in dust of history.
\nMystify confidence, cleverness in my eyes.
\nWe are now warriors of old age, wrinkles.
\nNever less let rules of age, engage, and conquer.
\nEveryone is a short stubbed sentence
\nlike Ernest Hemingway,
\nchoose your weapon, draw.
\nPolitics is a long-term whore
\nfortunate some died:
\nNixon, Johnson.
\nWhere do the corpses lie, where did the corpses
\ndie, war is time, grass, dustcover, all.
\nI am 69, too old for wars, spirited words, and anticipation.
\nYears of thought become a foreign disease.
\nLife pools itself on a new generation of warriors.
\nHear the sounds of cricket’s sounds of doves.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Michael Lee Johnson<\/b> lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era. He is a Canadian and USA citizen. Today he is a poet, editor, publisher, freelance writer, amateur photographer, small business owner in Itasca, Illinois.\u00a0 He has been published in more than 930 small press magazines in 30 countries, and he edits 10 poetry sites.\u00a0 Author’s website http:\/\/poetryman.mysite.com\/<\/u><\/b><\/a>.\u00a0 Michael is the author of The Lost American:\u00a0 From Exile to Freedom (136 page book) ISBN:\u00a0 978-0-595-46091-5,<\/i> several chapbooks of poetry, including From Which Place the Morning Rises <\/i>and Challenge of Night and Day, and Chicago Poems.\u00a0 <\/i>He also has over 120 poetry videos on YouTube as of 2015:\u00a0 https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/user\/poetrymanusa\/videos<\/u><\/i><\/a>\u00a0 Michael Lee Johnson, Itasca, IL. nominated for 2 Pushcart Prize awards for poetry 2015 & Best of the Net 2016.\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Visit his Facebook Poetry Group and join https:\/\/www.facebook.com\/groups\/807679459328998\/<\/a>\u00a0 He is also the editor\/publisher of anthology, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze<\/i>:\u00a0 http:\/\/www.amazon.com\/dp\/1530456762<\/a>\u00a0 A second poetry anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses, <\/i>Editor Michael Lee Johnson, is due for a January 2017 release.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Crows Those crows distant, dying, sounds empty grave nests. Sound crow claws, West Nile virus.   When Will These Vietnam War Poems End (I am too Old for War Past and Present Tense) I am too old for war. I am on a road with worn out jeans, cowboy hats, boots, leather vests, nothing more […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2883","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nMichael Lee Johnson, Winter 2017 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/michael-lee-johnson-winter-2017\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Michael Lee Johnson, Winter 2017 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Crows Those crows distant, dying, sounds empty grave nests. 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