Today let's catch up with Ann Christine Tabaka, an accomplished poet from Delaware. These poems have been published elsewhere, but I am always happy to republish wonderful poetry. Just be sure to note where the poems originally appeared as Christine does. Also, she provided links to the Poets Lounge's readings of her poems. They are below each poem.
Dust to Dust
Apple
pie mornings,
childhood
scraped knee,
take
me away again.
Words
spoken in secret
to
ears that won’t hear
rattle
around in the wind.
Once
upon a times
don’t
exist anymore,
the
universe swallowed them whole.
Hand
held friendships
hopscotch
off,
chalk
washed clean with tears.
Distant
moves,
letters
few, then none.
Woeful
news arrives.
Missed
laughter,
tucked
beneath the earth.
Another
venerable sidekick
dances
with the dust.
* Published by The Pangolin Review, April 2019
Photograph by NC Department of Transportation
Living Water
Water
…
Cool,
refreshing, life sustaining.
Absent,
all breath perishes.
The
river that flows down to the sea
is
born in the mountains high.
A
marriage of snow-melt and rain,
an
ancient love story of myth.
Trickling,
sparkling, growing,
pregnant
with life, a union for all ages.
Moisture
laden clouds bestow
their
gift upon the earth.
All
that is living sing praise
to
waters from above.
Enduring
journey over rocks and pain,
continuing
to the sandy shores of time.
Reflecting
all that was before
and
all there is to be.
Rain
…
a
soothing, melodic patter,
or
a devastating downpour.
Both
blessing and bane.
Yet
we cannot live without it.
Water
…
A
reminder of where we came from,
and
where we are to end.
Prismed
droplets, a rainbow’s tribute
upon
the thirsty earth.
* Published by Voice of Eve, March 2019
Photograph by Alan Levine
Dry Spell
Fissured
mud,
dry,
hard, gray.
So
many interlacing
fingers
reaching out
in
every direction,
crumble
to the touch.
Arid
summer,
sucking
the breath from life.
Languishing
thirst.
Wilted
flora bow their heads.
Fallen
warriors lack resilience
to
withstand the furnace blast.
Parched
earth,
crying
out for sustenance.
No
clouds in sight.
Not
a drop of compassion
to
be found.
Cruel
season of drought,
unexpected
curse.
Farmers
pass their hats
and
lay low,
hands
folded in prayer.
Rotted
fruit.
Tiny
shriveled globes of despair.
Shrunken
heads
hang
limp and forlorn
upon
dying hosts.
Time
stands still.
Torrid
air strangles all
within
its grasp.
I
exhale the dragon
from
my lungs.
Scorched
clay drifts from my hand,
dispersed
into the atmosphere.
Well
of hope, dry as dust.
Foreign
to some years,
a
vengeance in others.
All
promise lost,
walking
away
Then
…
faces
turn upward
in
disbelief,
as
forgiveness rains from the sky
* Published by North of Oxford, December 2018
Street Corner
Alligator
skin and button eyes.
The
devil himself would cry
at
seeing such a man.
Twisted
hand held out in despair,
begging
for a pittance.
Gaping
wound of hunger
weeps
out injustice spent for a dime.
Cardboard
castle and newspaper
bed
against a bitter cold blast of truth.
Breath
held tight in defiance to a
storm
of unrepented sins.
Again,
and yet again I say,
but
for the grace ….
Time
turning orange to brown,
fingers
aching blue.
Discarded
man, hunched figure,
a
pile of rags upon the sidewalk.
Head
bowed low, not in contrition.
Empty
shell with hollow stare.
Words
of ice melted by the fire
of
unforgiving masses.
No
one sees, no one cares.
A
procession of woe slowly
spirals
ever downward into
a
whirlpool of the damned.
Tear
stained vision of
impassioned
pain, forever cursed
to
walk this earth alone,
calling
street corner home.
But
for the grace …
* Published by Voice of Eve, March 2019
Tomorrow Never
Comes
Hope
hides under the bed,
a
forgotten pair of shoes,
waiting
for the next journey,
that
never seems to come.
Low
crouching, grasping reach,
searching
for the prize. Brushing
off
cobwebs of old memories
seeking
rebirth, with no recollection
of
a time that came before.
Death
is a reality that cannot
be
ignored. Marching along
a
wooden walkway, destiny
holds
out a foreboding hand.
Hours
passed in darkness, traveling
over
unknown landscape. I hear
but
cannot see. A thin veil of faith disguising
all
my sins. Tomorrow comes too quickly
when
tomorrow never comes.
* Published by Sheila-Na-Gig online, September 2018
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During the pandemic we have lost a number of jazz and other musicians. One was Wallace Roney. Here are a few of his songs.
Let's start with "Why Should There Be Stars": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jiPvPs0WnQ&list=PL94pPProv3u1t-2-cpLDY1qOVnNxcGmZh
Here is his "Blue in Green," a song that Miles Davis wrote: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8GFY6SZfDpQ
The music picks up a little with "Alone Together": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mm-yNkX_UHw
I'll finish with his "Obsession" from 1991:
Enjoy!
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