Biography of Albert Johnson
From early childhood I was abused by my father, physically, emotionally, and verbally. The beatings were bad enough. I think, however, that the emotional and verbal abuse and public ridicule which I experienced left an even deeper scar upon me. I now realize that I will be on the road of recovery the rest of my life. I have often feared that others would damage me as I was damaged by my raging, critical father, but I have begun to trust people more. I tried to cope with the feelings of worthlessness that came from the abuse by burying myself in my work (my addiction, workaholism) , depriving my wife and children of the time and love that they deserved from their husband and father. My job supervisor had to intervene and require that I get therapy needed to confront the ghosts of the past and my now unhealthy behavior patterns which once served me pretty well to cope with the terror of the abuse.
My counselor suggested I keep a journal to record my thoughts and feelings as I wrestled with the abusive past and moved forward in growth. Sometimes it helped me to journal my feelings as poetry. I thought it might help others to read some of this poetry.
In this ebook are selected poems from my published book, Writing the Wrongs. The printed book is in two sections: the first section, Writing the Wrongs, tells about abuse which I experienced and how it impacted me. The other section, Righting the Wrongs, tells about my journey of recovery. All poems are copyrighted by me, Al Johnson.
I invite you to visit my Recovery Poetry blog:
I continue recovery discussion there.
Albert Johnson's Works:
Writing the Wrongs, available at Lulu Press:
My book is also for sale at amazon.com.
Albert Johnson Poems
7. Safety's Smile
I'd had enough safety. I wanted free. I broke water and struggled to the surface gasping for the air of babyhood security.
A snowstorm struck and we were stuck, housebound for days. I missed my plane, but relished hours for talking. Finally a plow broke through
5. Someday I'Ll Cry
Right now it hurts too much to cry. I can't deal with my pain. Survival is my current goal, Forget 'No pain, no gain.'
4. Window Pain
When the death wish taps upon my window I recall the tapping forty years ago When small, I looked up to the starry sky And wished, no, not that I could die,
Old photos show adoring eyes Toward your newborn child. Blink
2. In A Cabin
In a cabin dark and lonely mother labored, thinking only that our father shortly would come home.
Old photos show adoring eyes
Toward your newborn child.
Old memories hold a picture of clouded eyes
Disturbed turned to rage.