Wecome to Christine Falk - Pen in Hand

Here you will find up to date news and information about my writing including excerpts from my novel, poetry, articles and reveiws.

Friday, 1 January 2016

A Divergent Number of Days

A year ago, on the first of 2015, began poetry. And among those words a multitude of divergent distraction. And among those distractions were words. For any writer words are the the bone of every day, and the string of days are connected by words. This is a year for the writer of words. These poetic fragments have been numbered by their place on the calendar, thier day in the life of a year. Here on the first of 2016 I offer distractions from a years past. Here for you is the list of Divergent Poetry I occasioned to pen.
May the coming year be filled of joyful words and gleeful distractions as they come day to day in your year.
The full moon she is a bitch,
a ripe glowing female dog,
causing the horned lonely hounds to holler and wail.
The full moon she is a yellow bitch.
I intend to save the world.
I have two bees and two apple trees.
I am patient and long-suffering.
Patient for the multiplying bees
and for the blossoming apple trees.
My presence seems mute,
but I am armament and shield
defending two bees and two apple trees.
# 16
Today we love.
Today we touch.
Tomorrow our touch is memory.
Tomorrow you are the author of my blush.
# 17
I am lost in this held breath and this frozen dance
where your voice carries me deeper into the universe.
Who will dare drink the last measure of water
from the well of this world?
Will it be clean? Will it not? Will it matter?
# 29
I celebrate the love in you. You celebrate the love in me.
Apart from touch we glimmer. United we blaze like every sun.
Connected we make claim for the peace of one blue planet.
# 45
Snow Day Haiku
It stands to reason,
your friend has a cowboy hat,
he’s got a shovel.
# 60
Cohen would always say
“meet me at the book store”
as though there were only one,
and for him it was this way.
I used to live in that silence where I could love the frosted edges of my world
and knew of the radiant pulse of eternity. What heaven did I leave?
#112 - Ode To Earth
In the beginning an Earth was created separate from the air
just as I am created separate from this environment.
This dirty aging body is not the core of us,
it is only the physical form essential to the experience of touch.
This is life for the Earth and for I.
two days away from civility
I am left feeling invisible and insignificant
like the boulder breaking crest five feet from shore
comparing a dull existence to the distant shining galaxy of stars
He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.
and she went to bed before she was tired
just to be near his dreams.
the sounds were bigger than the spaces
the trees were shredding at the pulsating night
fires blazed to bleed the sky out of black to blue again
Too timid to be effective.
Know how mighty winds whisper
To push the avalanche.


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