Karin Elizabeth Martin
I came to America when I was 14 months old. I began writing as a teenager. Mostly thoughts, feelings, entries in a diary.
I wrote a short story when I was 18 called 'The Past Remains' which is from a poem I wrote when I was 15. I still have the yellowed pages of the story. I was given directions on how to publish it but never followed thru out of fear and ignorance. I also sent the same poems... more »
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Karin Elizabeth Martin Poems
My Fathers Eyes
I remember very little, of when I was young, I recall even less, of a special someone, who I am told, was so proud of me and so boastful, 'I had his eyes'... I was born, on a first Spring day, I was his 4th, but he could not stay.
Hello old friend, old lover, old memories I think of you quite often, sometimes when I dream, I remember how you taught me what you knew of love and means. I spent my early teenage years, and gave my heart to you, yes dear
Desperately Seeking Michael
For so long now, I cease to count, the days and nights spent seeking you out. You are foreign, but not faceless,
It is so dark, so cold, so still, I walk along, all else is still I come here often, never in the day to watch and keep
The Past Remains
I came upon, a long lost thing, forlorn as it was, it had beauty to me, withered and bruised, it lay among, the shredded remains, of an old love song
I woke this morning dreaming threads of slumber in my head I rolled over for some reason the stirring cleared my head
Getting Back To Zero
I sit here and feel so lonely I could dance or sing instead I lay my head on the keyboard and my thoughts become words on the screen
It has been a long time, since I began this story, This life has been, a sordid glory As I have aged. I've learned a few,
Sunday Mother Sunday
I awake from a barely mussed bed, visions of activities dance thru my head, I tread down the stair, so lightly I creep I remember some days
I Love You But I Can'T Love Myself
I love you, since the 1st day I saw you, even before when I envisioned who you be... Even if you are angry, I love you so much, I love you enough, to try to empathize with your feelings...
There You Were
Here I am again My thoughts and feelings still the same but stronger and wiser
Sometimes I wonder I sit here I think Sometimes I daydream
Meet me at the Cross Road In the middle of my life I have never been here, The road is busy,
I Hear A Voice
I hear a voice it beckons me to come and dance to live and be free.
Comments about Karin Elizabeth Martin
My Fathers Eyes
I remember very little, of when I was young,
I recall even less, of a special someone, who I am told,
was so proud of me and so boastful, 'I had his eyes'...
I was born, on a first Spring day, I was his 4th, but he could not stay.
He was a soldier, Brave and Strong, he went away, to Vietnam.
I was said to be, the accidental one, that now keeps my aging mother,
young and strong.
My Father was an ARMY man, he wore black boots, and camo pants.
I remember a chair, in the living room, a christmas tree and a bouncing knee. I held a reindeer, in my small grip, his name was...