Karin Elizabeth Martin

Karin Elizabeth Martin Biography

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 ...

Karin Elizabeth Martin Comments

Karin Martin 02 November 2017

Seeking other writers who may be able to mentor me in a novel about my mother who grew up in Munich during 1926 thru 1950. Thank you in advance Karin

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The Best Poem Of 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 'Rudolph', and as he sang the song, I knew that my special reindeer was the subject, and tried to sing along.
I smell something sweet now in the air, I see a pipe, and hands with hair. I do not know, that soon he will leave, go back to war, to keep our peace. I sit at his feet, on the kitchen floor. His pants legs are up, his combat boots exposed. I am only 2, but he tells me with such pride, please tie my laces, my sweet child.
I bow and know, the long black strings, mom picks me up, father grabs his things. I sit on her hip at the kitchen door, and wave goodbye, to this unknown man whom I adore.
He somewhat trips, as he walks, for he has left, his boot laces in knots.
That departing figure and what else I write, is all I remember of, what may have been only one day or a night.
My Father died when I was 3. My mother was BAKING in the kitchen, something very SPECIAL for me.
The doorbell rang, I followed mom, she opened the door, and she went right down.
I saw some men, that looked somewhat like, that ARMY man, who was my KNIGHT, but mother saw a different view, she cried and sobbed, one man cried too.
My father died, on a first Spring day. It was my 3rd birthday that he went away. I wish I could remember more, about his face, his hands his lure.
I listen to what others speak, mostly good, always deep. I hold onto that sweet sweet smell, of tobacco smoke and if I try hard, I can still see his stare. I wear upon my feet today and most, black combat boots, but now I boast, they are tied, not knotted or loose.
I walk straight and tall, I have almost reached his golden age,
I try to recall, the more I age, but just these memories I have,
And one other thing, I have his eyes... MY EYES ARE BLUE

Karin Elizabeth Martin Popularity

Karin Elizabeth Martin Popularity

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