Munyori Poetry Journal

Poet Michael Johnson reflects on Vietnam, mentions
Iraq

At the age of 18 you went to Canada and lived in Edmonton
for 10 years. What were your reasons at the time you went to
Canada?

With youth, decisions of this magnitude were difficult, confused,
disarrayed, and flowed with the intervening events at the time.  It was
a combination of personal turmoil over a protracted war, casualty
numbers being broadcast each day; discrepancies in draft status from
one local draft board location to the next; the futility of
rationalizations floating out of the Nixon, Johnson administrations that were 
very clearly misguided:  the domino effect, bringing democracy to the
Asian world, etc.  It is my opinion that the United States is
preoccupied with its own sense of importance and pushing these
values onto others not so receptive.

Your return,  how did it change your life?

It forever changed my life; a price that continues to be paid.  Initially I
was given conditional amnesty via President Ford (admit you were
wrong, do manual labor, and come back).  Later total amnesty was
granted by President Jimmy Carter (to all those not involve in
violence, draft card burnings, etc.) who to this day I owe a volley of
favor.  Being in exile is not like going on vacation with a few thousand
dollars in your pocket and coming back a few months later.  You are
left with an emotional void, lonely holidays, no roots, no sense of real
belonging, no safe way to go home-only God to keep you company,
and at times I wondered about that.  But, as years have passed now,
my appreciation for Vietnam veterans has grown over the years, the
price they paid, the ridicule they endured, the price they continue to
pay.

In the end, the United States public lost, draft resisters lost, and many
Vietnam veterans lost, many with their lives.  It has developed a
political, poetic insight into some of my poems and prose over the
years.  Carrying “causes” on one’s personal shoulders is a heavy
burden to lift each day.  I try to avoid causes now days.  I must
admit, the issues of poor health care, in terms of access, in the United
States is near criminal proportions, with approximately 54 millions
American without basic access to health care services while we
spend millions of dollars providing heath care to other countries.

Regrets (Would you do the same things now if you were 18
and going to be drafted in the current conflict?):

Sure I have regrets:  forced to make such a decision at a confused
young age, losing years without family or roots. The experience did
contribute to my views and the depth of insight sometimes reflected in
my poetry.  With the same set of circumstances as the Vietnam War,
I would be forced to do it all over again; fortunately, not at my age of
59.  I’m not sure what I would do faced with the current conflict.  
The magnitude of the Iraq War is no where near the devastation, and
prolongation of the Vietnam War.  There is not draft.   I confess
though, I see some similarities:  guerrilla warfare, not knowing who
the enemy is, involvement in an endless daily struggle of few results.  
However, there is one huge difference:  this war is ideologically
based in radical Islam.  True scripturally based Islam, fundamental
principles of Islam, is rooted in violence, the need to convert all to its
fold.  There is no such thing as “moderate” Islam-just moderate
followers of Islam.  Without a draft it’s hard to say what I would do:
likely nothing till a draft, when forced to face head on the need to
make a decision.  Thank God, I don’t have to do that again.  There
are benefits to aging.

Patriotism -  your thoughts?

Patriotism is a devil; reincarnated as a cause.  When patriotism
screams out:  “my country right or wrong”, it’s usually wrong.  
Nationalism is a better alternative where you can look at results your
country has accomplished and say “I’m proud of those actions”, “I’m
proud of who we are.”

Thoughts on war protesters:

This is difficult for me.  I never protested except internally.  True
protest requires sacrifice in action not vocal yelling.  I was not a
protester; I was a resister.  I took a stand, I lived with it, I paid the
price of it.  Vietnam veterans paid the price; Iraq veterans are paying
the price.  Protest alone is not enough.

Thoughts on the current administration:

This is a loaded question for me.  I believe many are good people
one-on-one; to chat with, to share beliefs, to argue with.  In my
opinion only:  this is the worst administration since or before Nixon.  
In making the Iraq war the central focus of misdirected attention
(rather than pockets of terrorism) this administration has ignored
others views of this country (mostly negative); it has failed to improve
roads, ignored health care, and routed most funds to a draining effort
to force democracy on an Islamic nation for its own interests. It is the
misdirection, false premises, and wrong direction of decisions that is
at the core of the problem:  that means, poor leadership.   It is my
opinion you supply health care for your people and protect them as
the highest two priorities; not do one, and ignore the other.  Largely
due to the war, rightly so in some cases to protect, privacy is a thing
of the past for most Americans.  We, as Americans, have less
freedom today than at any other point in American history.

Thoughts on peace; is peace possible?

No, peace is not possible due to our war-like and self-interested
natures; we are creatures of conflict; some are more “just” than
others. An example of a “just” war was World War II.  It is my belief
(even in the United States), it is becoming difficult to refer to our
Christian roots:  but there will be no peace till the return of Jesus
Christ.  

 Michael Johnson's Poems

Bread Crumbs for Starving Birds
(Version # 1)

Stretched across the ravine,
the walking bridge
is covered with snow.
Steam lifts from the narrow river bed below.
The hand guided ropes
are glazed over with ice.
Raccoon tracks are pepper sprinkled
in front of me like virgin markers
leaving a fresh, first trail.
Once across, and safe,
I toss yellow bread crumbs across white snow
for starving birds.

-1996-

Bread Crumbs for Starving Birds
(Version #2)

Smiling across the ravine,
snow cloaked footbridge.
Prickly ropes slick with ice,
snow clad boards pepper sprinkled
with raccoon tracks, virgin markers,
a fresh first trail.

Across and safe,
I toss yellow bread crumbs
onto white snow, for starving birds.

-2007-

Silent Moonlight

Love lost
in silent moonlight
tortures heart
with rising sun.
Silence snores.
Sunlight scatters
shadows in
spotty rain.

-1970-

Blind Man in Café

Blind man-
fingertips
dancing across
table tops-
crooked smile
on his face-
searching for
a seat in a
crowded corner.

-1969-