Comments

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  Carroll Myers February 21, 2008 at 6:40pm

  hello Lonnell! I was so inspired the other day as I read the poem you left on G Hendley's page about the ink and Word and the scribes. I have heard it many times before but was in just the right mind frame that it extraordinarily blessed me. Thanks for sharing and it wasn't even me you were sharing with. Wally Manthey and I were talking the other day about how it doesn't matter who speaks the Word as long as the Word gets spoken. You never know who is going to hear the words you speak/write, so get them out there. I was also on Darlene's site and saw the heartfelt words you left for her and was flooded with joyous memories. My appreciation and love for you is immense and true. You can know in your heart you are loved by me for you being you.
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  Matt Miller February 20, 2008 at 10:25am

  Oh wonderful brother,
  
  The unbroken line- in your last poem -
  
  I intend to expand on that - too much to expand on this comment page - right now I could write a thesis on it.
  Be still my heart.
  
  What a beautiful combination - how it just melted me as I read them together - I read them late last night - and my heart just melted - the moment the heart - the inner part of knowing looses its consistency - it is best not to add or respond - wait awhile and just as a chef - who cooks and melts his craft together the final product is perfection but you have to wait until it sets and cools a little..
  
  And so I even now I can only thank you.
  
  The unbroken line - yes - the Calling is an unbroken line - since you brought up The Harlem Birth of Black intellectual and literal genius - one of the great ones perhaps one of the founders was Paul Laurence Dunbar.
  Unfortunately the advesary took his life so young - TB but he was truly a great poet. He had two high school friends - Wilbur and Orville Wright. Unknown to most people Wilbur and Orville Wright invested much into black literature - they were printers (owned a printing press) and invested in the Dayton Tattler and who was the editor - Paul Dunbar. Teddy Roosevelt was facinated by him and gave him a Sword!
  So the connection of you to Ohio - in my mind's eye brings out Dunbar. His wife Alice Dunbar was also a poet and due to the Valentine season I would mention her works on love and marriage were beautiful. He also greatly influenced the work of Riley who was the "Hoosier poet". Dunbar kept a life long relationship with the Wright Brothers and their tremendous friendship was a testimony that no artistic and literary rebirth happens in sterile cultural settings -
  Neither can spriritual rebirth of the soul - God wants us to cross barriers for our Calling - a Calling in essence as I alluded to before is social in nature - it is both divine and very human and springs from a community longing for redemption and dignity and purpose and direction and definition - but that identiy comes from a crossing of barriers - it is Jesus Christ who broke the barriers and crossed over for us both in his life on earth - who chose the companionship of publicans and sinners - and Nicodemus who crosssed the barrier of intellectual and social pride to him independently and who in His resurection and the giving of the Spirit to a common group of Galileans that started the greatest poetry of inclusion.
  
  Well anyway Dunbar in his short life wrote a dozen books of poetry and some of his works were set to music. He was truly a genius.
  
  So a poem by Dunbar - dead at age 33 awaiting the return but called in the unbroken call. In the theme of resurection hope I submit to you The Lily of the Valley.
  May it bless you my friend and brother.
  
  The Lily Of The Valley
  Sweetest of the flowers a-blooming
  In the fragrant vernal days
  Is the Lily of the Valley
  With its soft, retiring ways.
  
  Well, you chose this humble blossom
  As the nurse’s emblem flower,
  Who grows more like her ideal
  Every day and every hour.
  
  Like the Lily of the Valley
  In her honesty and worth,
  Ah, she blooms in truth and virtue
  In the quiet nooks of earth.
  
  Tho’ she stands erect in honor
  When the heart of mankind bleeds,
  Still she hides her own deserving
  In the beauty of her deeds.
  
  In the silence of the darkness
  Where no eye may see and know,
  There her footsteps shod with mercy,
  And fleet kindness come and go.
  
  Not amid the sounds of plaudits,
  Nor before the garish day,
  Does she shed her soul’s sweet perfume,
  Does she take her gentle way.
  
  But alike her ideal flower,
  With its honey-laden breath,
  Still her heart blooms forth its beauty
  In the valley shades of death.
  
  
  God bless and enjoy your day.
  Matt Miller
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  Lonnell Johnson February 19, 2008 at 4:13pm

  My Brother, My Brother,
  
  As I read your words, I thought of this amazing phenomenon:when cardiac tissue is taken from two different organs and placed in the same environment, eventually these tissues will pulsate in sequence as if from the same heart. Many times as we share, our thoughts flow along the same lines as we commune and share fully around the Word of God. A couple of poems came to mind as you touched upon sparks that generate fires and you further commented on God's calling upon our lives. Both of these pieces are in the collection I am sending you. Let these serve as an appetizer of sorts, couple of sonnets to whet your appetite for more.
  
  Originally written as a tribute to a colleague who retired after 30 years of teaching on the university level, "The Teacher's Task" has been modified and used to celebrate the lives of those "who teach because they love the teacher's task." The other poem "The Call" was originally inspired by one of those life-changing teachings by Vince Finnegan, more than 20 years ago. The words still ring true today.
  
  You mentioned my reference to my experience with writing poetry while at IU, and something else recently occurred which also brought my graduate studies to mind once more. During that time I was introduced to the Harlem Renaissance, a notable time period in African American literature. I discovered Countee Cullen and other outstanding poets of the period whose works I researched and later published some of my findings. Would you believe that I received an email from a graduate student in Iraq, and she is studying Countee Cullen and other Black poets as part of her dissertation. She discovered an article that I published on Cullen in 1991, and she wanted to know my thoughts regarding her dissertation topic. I wrote back to her, and she then responded by saying that she was first in introducing Cullent to academic circles in Bagdad. I was deeply honored that she quoted me in her dissertation and would like me to comment on the chapter she had written on Cullen, one of my favorite poets. In fact, you can glimpse his influence in the two poems I am sending, for Cullen was a masterful sonneteer. I was also attracted to Cullen because of his use of the Bible and his Christian beliefs which make their way into his writings. I just wanted you to celebrate God's goodness with me as I think of that remarkable set of providential occurrences.
  
  Enjoy the poems:
  
  The Teacher’s Task
  For all those called to teach
  
  
  The smallest spark can kindle a desire,
  Ignite a fire to stir and warm the heart,
  And through the years the embers from that fire
  Will glow with light inflamed from that same start.
  In the dark of night should a doubt arise,
  A question of the road less traveled by,
  Recall that same glow in a student’s eyes
  Shall dispel the chill of questioning why.
  You who labored in the classroom have learned
  That rapport with student, colleague and friend
  Offers recompense beyond wages earned.
  You who loved the teacher’s task we commend:
  May joy warm your heart and sustain you yet,
  With memories of success and no regret.
  
  
  
  Lonnell E. Johnson
  from Stone upon Stone: Psalms of Remembrance
  
  
  The Call
  I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord,
  beseech you to walk worthy of the calling
  with which you were called,
  Ephesians 4:1
  
  The call resounds like a repeated name
  From the lips of a dear friend who knows you.
  I clearly hear my name and see the flame
  That lights the path of those whom God foreknew
  Would hear and heed a higher destiny.
  This calling only God can verify.
  My ear cannot hear; my eye cannot see;
  Yet within my heart I cannot deny
  That I have heard and seen what few will know.
  I must arise and strive to reach the place
  Where the rivers of understanding flow
  And never doubt God’s purpose and His grace.
  I stand in the unbroken line of all
  Those who, having heard, rise to heed the call.
  
  Lonnell E. Johnson
  
  Be blessed, my dear brother and good friend,
  
  
  Lonnell
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  Matt Miller February 18, 2008 at 11:26pm

  My mailing address is Matt Miller
  521 2nd Street North East
  Faribault, MN 55021
  
  Thank you so much for offering to send me your work.
  I will not only read it but treasure it and give back in appropirate form on how it instructs, guides and inspires.
  I too enjoy our fired words for each other.
  
  So I think of the heat of a poets heart and green meadows on a cold dark winter night in Minnesota - it is 20 below tonight - yet srping is but a few fortnights away and waits.
  
  I move to the last of your comment - there is so much to say - yes there is but the sparks of iron against iron can light a fire that can turn a forest ablaze. Fres are good sometimes but only when there is too much brush amd old dead trees that must be burned away. Yellostone was charred after the great fire - new life now coming forth and stronger and more beautiful - forests need fire - it is their natural way to cleanse and grow - gets rid of the dead twigs and leaves and underbrush that covers the God planted food for the life of the forest. So iron against iron- good friends who are soul to soul even for awhile sharpens both - and gives off sparks that can also go no where if the forest is healthy. But the profit is the sharpening -
  
  Indeed the mystery of calling - it is God who calls us and confrims a Call - always does.
  Calling are never isolated and are always woven within fabrics of human connection with friends or events or causes that the Lord or the Father draws together in a graceful way - it is His drawing and our recognition and wonder of it. The recognition often comes in a personal way - that is confirming. Thank you for the story on the IU poet.
  
  Yes I do love to fish although I have not fished in a long time as well. My mother taught me how to fish or how to enjoy fishing - it was her love for it that transfered to me.when I was a boy.
  My father has no inclination to venture on water - he does not like to boat or fish but he will on occasion take a bath in it.
  Minnesota has over 20, 000 lakes and fishing in Minnesota is the very fabric of their culture - even in winter they have ice fishing on all these lakes.
  I would love to fish with you some day,
  
  So I will close with a poem.
  
  Living
  by Denise Levertow
  
  The fire in leaf and grass
  ao green it seems
  each summer the last summer.
  
  The wind blowing the leaves
  shivering in the sun,
  each day the last day.
  
  A red salamander
  so cold and so
  easy to catch, dreamily
  
  moves his delicate feet
  and long tail. I hold
  my hand open for him to go.
  
  Each minute the last minute.
  
  
  So Lonnell enjoy your day,
  Thanks for your patience with my poor but humble words,
  Your brother and frend,
  matt
  
  Matt
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  Laine Rountree Walter February 18, 2008 at 10:25am

  It was so great to see you over the holidays with Robin. I kept meaning to drop you a note and time takes its toll on the everyday road...forgetfulness. you are amazing and still have every ounce of kindness intact. I loved hanging out even for those few moments. It was a reminder of the goodness of years gone by. Love to you, laine
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  Matt Miller February 17, 2008 at 10:57pm

  I suppose the plug has not been pulled yet so we can continue to correspond on this web page as long as the authorities and owners of this site determine my presence to be permissable in their judgement.
  
  I truly loved your two poems - I have read them over several times - what a beautiful way to start my new week. Not only the content but the timing was so wonderful - I particularly loved the fusion of past and present and future into eternity.
  
  Oh Lonnell,
  My goodness the depth of a man's heart to his Father was so evident - your mindset to God is a tribute to all that God has wrote into the tablets of your soul.
  Lonnell I will forever hold on to your words - thank you.
  
  
  To understand the core of the gospel is to see resurrection - that is unfolded in clear terms in 1 Corinthians 15: and to see resurection one can then see his firm promise to return and redeem us in fullness with the ultimate promise of eternal life with Him - The Hope of Glory in completeness as manifested that We will be as He is. How can we disparage each other with such a promise? What kind of love is this? What kind of Lord do we serve? A Lord that writes beauty into the soul of a man as He has with you.
  
  Yet outside of the sunshine of Hope there is darkness and ignorance and blindness - and we are called not to condemn but to save - not to judge but to offer grace - not to offer law but to release from the consequences of wrath - Oh what a mystery it all is.
  
  Philip Appleman wrote in his last part of his prayer Make the bad people good and the good people nice; and before the world goes over the brink, teach the believers how to think.
  You Lonnell are a thinking man and now I can go in peace.
  Love you bro,
  PS I had Walleye at Applebee's tonight with fresh roasted vegetables on the side. The Walleye was gently glazed with a very nice creamy like Hollandaize sause with crushed pecans on it. For desert I had chocalate cake.
  Matt Miller

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  Matt Miller February 12, 2008 at 8:21am

  I will be delighted to share a good recipie with you.
  When I lived in India - I lived near the Arabian sea coast growing up and the fishermen would bring their catch on shore on these beautiful wooden boats that were designed 2000 years ago - much like the ships of Galililee and they would sell the fish and shrimp on the beach. The Indians would then make the most wonderful curries for the fish - oh so good.
  I know a gentleman who has a great little Indian resteraunt in Northfield and he also owns the best Indian resteraunt in Minneapolis - he and I are friends - I will ask him for a recipe for some curry sauce that you might enjoy for fish. I prefer just to sit there and let him make it for me. (LOL)
  Matt Miller
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  John Alspaw February 12, 2008 at 7:57am

  Lonnelle,
  
  It is sure great to hear from you. It has been such a long time. Many people still picture me as 15 years old because that is when they met me. But alas time moves on. Now I have Kids older than that. I have your first book. I have always enjoyed your writing and speaking and have the utmost respect for you. I am so happy after all these years to reconnect. I am in the middle of a work day and do not have time for a lengthy response but I did want to write back quickly to respond to you message so you would know I received and appreciated it.
  
  I will type to you soon,
  
  John
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  Elizabeth Ricks Lowder February 11, 2008 at 5:23pm

  Hi Lonelle,
  
  I had an appointment today, and read half of the book. It is wonderful. I'll email you when I get further. I still love your poetry. I have questions and exchanges I will send as I get further.
  Thanks again!!
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  George Hendley February 11, 2008 at 4:33pm

  Hello Salty Brother!
  Blessings to you and yours. Expecting ALL of God's best for you and your girls (Brenda and daughters).
  When are you coming to TX to enjoy some warm sonshine and TX barbecue? Would love to host you when you come.
  Holy Hugs~
  George