The Language of Cancer
by Caroline Johnson
65 Poems ~ 135 pages
Price: $23.00
Publisher: Kelsay Books
ISBN #: 978-1-63980-742-0
To Order: Kelsay Books or Amazon.com
ABOUT THE BOOK:
The Language of Cancer, by survivor Caroline Johnson, will be received with prayers of thanksgiving by all who seek for adequate words to shepherd them through the trauma associated with cancer. The author, a recent traveler to Serbia, draws upon an analogy associated with that country’s turbulent background … she associates cancer as an “invasion, a catastrophe to the country of your body.” This collection, ripped from the pages of Johnson’s personal invasion, will fit perfectly in one’s purse or bedside table, like a live-in companion.
ADVANCE PRAISE:
Caroline Johnson weaves an array of topics through a common thread: an old boiler is swapped out for a new furnace, the call of her husband on a ladder that didn’t fall, an encounter with a bear in the backcountry that leaves hikers unscathed. While weighing out her personal what ifs, Johnson drives down the on ramp, merging boldly into chancy traffic with her foot on the gas pedal. Her poems apply a courageous language to her battle, with a unique sense of humor and wonder despite one of life’s most serious experiences.
–Cynthia Gallaher, poet and author of Fugal Poets’ Guide to life
With powerful imagery and reflections, Caroline Johnson’s words trace the pain, fear, yearning, and even beauty that comes with a cancer diagnosis. The Language of Cancer provides an invitation to reflection and encouragement to continue moving forward towards hope, and gratitude, joy in the face of cancer. I am touched by the power of Caroline’s words and trust that readers will find solce and inspiration in these poems.
–Ellen Nieman, MSW, LCSW, Oncology Social Worker/Associate Director of Programs, Wellness House. Hinsdale, Illinois
What is it to luminesce through fear? To sing through a treatment that feels like a poisoning? To recover by flying? The Language of Cancer is an invitation to move through the territory at once familiar and defamiliarized by time and the intrusion of disease and process of its transmutation. If we accept, we are graced to be guided through a pilgrimage that refuses to turn from the pain or to valorize it. We learn, if we’re willing, a new way to pray.
–Marty McConnell, author, wine for a shotgun
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, Caroline Johnson has two illustrated poetry chapbooks, Where the Street Ends and My Mother’s Artwork, and a full length collection, The Caregiver (Holy Cow! Press, 2018). She has won numerous local and national awards for her poetry, including the 2012 Chicago Tribune’s Printers Row Poetry Contest. Her work can be found in Garrison Keillor’s Writer’s Almanac, Origins Journal, Ekphrastic Review, Naugatuck River Review, Encore, Pink Panther Magazine, and After Hours, among others.
A former college English teacher, she has led workshops for veterans and other poets on topics such as Poetry and Spirituality, Speculative Poetry, and Writing About Chicago. She is past president and current treasurer of Poets & Patrons of Chicago and a member of the P2 Collective, a Chicago-area group of poets and photographers who present at galleries and online.
FROM THE BOOK:
Selected from Section VI. Survival:
Not Alone
by Caroline Johnson
–with a line from Claude McKay’s “If We Must Die”
If we must die, let it not be alone,
clothed in a hospital gown.
Surgical, clinical, urine-soaked and cold,
eyelids veiled and drowned.
If we must die, let us surrender to pink,
friend-filled, sighing to sisters.
Giddy and fierce, we won’t stop to think
what could come after, thunderous twisters.
Let us rejoice in each hour and day–
each moment, each second, each year.
Not worry about how long life may take,
warm hugs instead of fear.
As weomen we’ll face the common foe,
turn to the light when it’s time to go.
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