Carol Ann Culbert Johnson

INTRODUCING TALENTED AUTHORS OF POETRY

 

 

Doug Davis

 Doug Davis has had an interest in writing since elementary school.In the fourth grade his

friend talked him into writing stories forclassmates. Being the entreprenuer, Doug's friend

would go around and make a list of stories that the other kids wanted to read. Doug would

writestories based on the requests and the two boys charged fifteen cents fora one page story

or two pages for twenty-five cents. Acting as Doug's"agent", his friend got five cents, or ten

cents respectively. Doug onthe other hand earned ten cents, or fifteen cents per story. This set

in motion an interest in writing short fiction and poetry.As years passed, Doug

would go on to work in many fields, including newspaper reporter. Yet, it wouldn't be until

2006 when Doug's wife Loretta, talks him into submitting some of his poetic works

for publication. Now, Doug has one published book, two more manuscripts finished and looking

for a publisher. And he is writing short fiction stories for Amazon.Com's Amazon shorts program.

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  FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW
-----------------------------------
As I walked alone one night

Beneath the moon's soft glow

I was thinking to myself

My heart was troubled so,


It was during the holidays

Christmas was coming soon

With no money and bills to pay

I wasn't sure what to do,


I didn't want anything for myself

But for my children and wife

I wanted a wonderful Christmas

They deserved at least that in life,


As I walked alone outside

I felt the bitter cold

But then- I noticed something strange

A warmth had taken hold,


My worries seemed to disappear

But where did they go?

I then looked down on the ground

And saw footprints in the snow,


I heard God's voice whisper

On the winter breeze

Go home my son and take a look

Beneath your Christmas tree,


When I got home I was surprised

At what I did see

I saw many gifts

For my children-my wife-and me,


It seems as though the neighbors

Had heard of our plight

So they shared the Christmas spirit

With us this Christmas Eve night,


There was music and plenty of food

Plenty of joy around

Then everyone gathered by the window

To watch the fresh snowflakes come down,


Nobody else seemed to notice

As they looked to and fro

The feint shallow traces

Of footprints in the snow.


________________________________________________________________________

SILENT SCREAM
---------------------
She goes about her daily routine

Making sure the laundrys clean

Cooking dinner- making beds

Thoughts of anguish in her head,

Whatever happened- to the dream?

Now she only has- her silent scream,

Makeup hides the newest bruise

But she denies- the abuse,

She wonders where- the love has gone

Why she feels- so alone,

She tells her friends- everything is fine

But she knows- that she's lying,

She keep hoping- that he'll change

That he'll love- her again,

A hospital visit

Another excuse

But still no report- About abuse,

She tells herself- stay for the kids

The alcohol made him- do what he did,

He says he is sorry

And swears he will stop

If she will just

Not call the cops,

Everything's better- for a day or so

Then he gets mad

And hits her some more,

When will she learn- to see through his lies

She has to get out

Before someone dies,

She may claim- that the future is unsure

But the sad truth is...

That someone- is her.

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 CANDICE M. MARTIN

Candice M. Martin, started writing at a young age, as a means to cope

with the abuse that surrounded her. As she grew older, the abuse

seemed to follow her. After moving from one foster home to another,

Mrs. Martin found herself becoming more withdrawn and even to this

day she still sometimes finds herself dealing with the “invisible complex”.

Even though there were many struggles that she faced, Candice still managed

to graduate from high school and had dreams of attending college. But at the age

of 17,  Mrs. Martin found herself facing yet another obstacle in her life-epilepsy.

To this date the seizures are still not fully controlled and she relies on the love and

assistance of her husband as her full time care giver.  From childhood physical and

sexual abuse, battling an uncontrolled disease, to being raped at age 19, Candice soon

found herself in a violent relationship with that “perfect gentleman”. As they say, “

appearances are not always as they seem.” Though it took almost 2 ½ years for Mrs.

Martin to find the strength to leave, she now realizes that had she not gotten out when

she did, that “perfect gentleman” would have taken her life. All of these things and so

much more has gone into Mrs. Martin’s writings. Line by line tears are inked into the very

essence of her work.

For years Candice did what she was told and kept quite about the secrets she carried. In

fact, until her book came out in December 2005, she really didn't go in the specifics of her

past, nor did share her writings with many of her family members. Sure they read some, but

not the darker ones-the ones that contained so much of her pain. It took her a long time to

even think of actually seeking out a publisher-not because it wasn't her dream, but because

she didn't want others to think she was certifiable after they read her work. But after a while,

Candice didn't care. Candice had written what she’d went through and her writings were her

voice-an affirmation of her past.

She met her husband shortly after that and expected the same treatment volatile treatment she

had became used to throughout her life.  When it didn't come, she found herself trying to make

it happen. She’d pick fights just because. Candice wanted her husband to hit her-in that "She

deserved it" way. After a while she began to realize that he wasn't going to treat her that way.

She says that he has been the best thing that has ever happened to her and she thanks God for

him. They recently celebrated their 8^th  wedding anniversary in March 2006. She still battles

PTSD and depression, some days worse than others. Through it all, she writes. Candice says

that her husband is the main reason that she submitted her book to the publisher. That same

drive and push has now lead Mrs. Martin to finish her second book, “Reflections In My Tears”

which is due out fall 2006.  She hopes that her words will help someone who has gone through

the same thing or is going through the things she has gone through. "Petals of Life: A Survivor's

Writings" can be found by going to her website at www.freewebs.com/candicemartin  or any of

the online bookstores as well as most brick and mortar stores. Be sure to stop in and sign the

guestbook letting her know you’ve been by!

_____________________

Just Breathe

Written: April 20, 2006

Breathe, slow

Quietly, so perhaps he’ll not know.

Don’t let him hear-

He’ll sense your fear.

Quickly-under the bed-

No wait-that’s the first place he’ll head!

Okay, just breathe, in and out-

Stay calm-remember don’t scream or shout.

It will only make things worse-

No one knows he’s perverse.

His steps are getting closer to the door-

Can’t take it anymore!

Door opens and in he walks-

He makes sure, it, he then locks.

No where to go, can not breathe-

Suddenly, he begins to seethe.

Grabbed and tossed onto that Barbie bedspread-

I should have fled!

Daddy invades me once more-

Same old thing since age four.

All I can do is lay there and just breathe-

He says it’s his special love I receive.

Just breathe-through the tears-

Look away from his sneers.

Just breathe-through the pain-

Eventually my body I’ll regain.

In what seems like eternity-

He’s done with me.

Leaving as if he did nothing wrong-

A sick smile on his face all along.

But as a child, I have no fight-

Instead down my secrets I write.

I just breathe…

Praying no more “special love” I’ll receive. 

©2006 Candice M. Martin

 _________________________________________

 The Wedding Rings

Written: March 19, 2006

They were gold, with little chips of diamonds-not worth much-
But she remembers the feel of their touch.
She’d slide her rings around, twisting them between her fingers-
Taking them halfway up one, then letting them linger.
It had been so long since she’d felt that, and she missed it so-
But she understood that times were hard and they had to be let go.
Back then, so long ago, many had to sell their treasures-
Just to eat and live, one had to take drastic measures.
But even throughout The Depression, their love got them by-
They may have lost everything, but on faith and prayer did they rely.
Many said he wasn’t good enough, but she saw his strength-
And she knew he’d protect her at any length.
He did what he could to give her the life she was due-
For many a times he felt there was way too much she’d went through.
She tried to not mention her desire for the feel of wedding rings-
And just wanting to see them on her finger was the silliest of things.
He saw how much she longed for those rings throughout the years-
To her they were souvenirs.
Each time he tried to get new wedding rings, money wasn’t there-
He just hoped she understood and realized how much he did care.
Everyday, he’d put his pocket change aside-
In an old milk jug, it he did hide.
Years passed one by one, and that jug became too heavy to lift-
He called his son, telling him he needed his help to by momma a gift.
They went into town and took that old jug to the bank-
When he asked the young girl to count it out, her expression became blank.
After twenty or so minutes, he and his son walked out-
His son questioning what all this was about.
But he just told him to take him to the local jewelry store-
He didn’t have time for the Why’s or What for’s!
Once at his destination, he knew what he sought-
He’d looked at them for years, but today he walked in and bought.
“Son, some other time, I will explain-
Just know that getting these has taken me years to obtain.”
At home later that evening, he asked her to sit-
Telling her that there was something he had to admit.
“For years, I’ve watched you caress that ring finger-
Stopping for seconds here or there and letting your hand linger.
I’ve always wanted to put a ring back on that hand-
And I’d never realized that there was power in such a tiny gold band.”
She started to speak, but he held a finger softly to her lips-
He gently took her hand into his and onto her finger he slipped-
The wedding rings that she lost over fifty years ago-
How he found the exact ones, she just didn’t know.
She cried as she glanced down seeing them back in their place-
A smile gently washed across her face.
“How? How did you find them, afford them-how?”
“My love, I promised long ago to uphold our vows-
And those vows were sealed with a gold band-
That family and friends watched me slip on your hand.
It almost killed me, to watch you take them off when hard times came-
For years, I thought I was to blame.
I saved all my change for years and cashed it in today-
When the jeweler called with the news to say-
That they’d found your rings at an estate sale.
I knew they were yours because of the inscription detail.”
She smiled and embraced him, loving him more than ever-
For over fifty years, her and those wedding rings were severed.
Glancing toward his hand to see if his ring was there-
He immediately caught her stare.
“Yes, I have mine as well, but it remains in this little box here-
For I wanted you to slip it upon my finger like you did that year.”
She cried as did he, when she took his hand-
And slipped on that small gold band.
The wedding rings-
Simple, sacred things.
Expensive or flashy they need not be-
Because it is the shared love that others should see.

©2006 Candice M. Martin

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

CARROLL D. CLARK

 

Carroll D. Clark has enjoyed reading and writing ever since she was a young child. She cannot

imagine going though life without a pen or book. Ms. Clark was born in mississippi and she lived

on a farm with her grandmother and grandfather pigs, cows, chicken, the whole works. When she

 was seven years old her family moved them to Chicago, the windy city.  Ms. Clark has a lot of

great memories of growing-up there. She graduated high school and she moved to sunny california

with her mother which is where she resides to this day.  Ms. Clark is a divorcee, and mother of one

teenage daughter who wants to be a journalist. In between all of this time she has read hundred's of

books and have written some poems. Ms. Clark worked in the healthcare field for many years and her

 long term goal is to return to school to obtain her BA degree in social work. But reading and writing is

 her hobby and passion.