Featured Collection by Ann Christine Tabaka
The Poet: Ann Christine Tabaka
Ann Christine Tabaka was born and lives in Delaware. She is a
published poet, an artist, a chemist, and a personal trainer. She loves
gardening, the ocean, and her cats. Her poems have been published
in many poetry journals, reviews, and anthologies.
Ann Christine Tabaka on Her Poetry Forgotten
My name is Ann Christine Tabaka, I go by Chris.
I have been writing rhymes, poems, and musings since I was 14 years She stands on the corner,
old. I kept a hand written journal, mostly the usual teenage angst, and Cold lonely, lost, forgotten;
of course the Viet Nam war affected me greatly since many of my As her youth slowly slips away.
family and friends had to serve. I was recently encouraged by friends She hides behind the makeup,
to share my words with the world. My legacy to live after me. And clothing of her former years.
I had a traumatic childhood (no need to go into details), so I used my She evokes a look of pity from all w
writing and drawing to lose myself and to cope with my life. I loved Behind her mask,
fantasy and adventure books, and super hero comics. Many of my Her features show the beauty of her
poems are fantasy, but the ones shared here are all my real life But she refuses to accept this,
experiences of divorce, fear of aging, and losing my mother after a And so continues to disguise her tru
long battle with dementia. I do have joyous and silly poems as well, Trading it in for a few more years o
but this grouping explores the darker sadder side of my life. Dew
Drops was written at a womens silent retreat shortly after my Why does she cling on so desperate
mother died, it is dedicated to her. To the worn pages of past times?
She has much more to offer now.
I love the whimsical mind and use of metaphors. Some of the artists Many of us are obsessed with holdi
and writers who have inspired my life and my work are listed below, To what we cannot have.
some with a note after their name. And in doing so neglect to see the s
That each new age holds out to us.
1. Vincent Van Gogh *(my favorite artist)
2. Maxfield Parrish *(technical skills) She mistakes the glances of sympat
3. Ert [Romain de Tirtoff] *(Art Deco is my true love) For admiration.
4. John Austen So for the moment she is content.
5. C.S. Lewis *(my all time favorite for his spiritual metaphors) Then once again, all too soon
6. E.A. Poe *(my dark side) She stands on the corner,
7. Joyce Kilmer *(my first introduction to poetry, and love of Cold, lonely, lost, forgotten
Trees)
8. T.S. Eliot Dew Drops (Saturday morning, day
9. John Lennon *(poems and drawing of my generation)
10. Lewis Carroll *(fantasy and imagery)
Drops
Ourselves of water
on the screen.
Crystal
The night is upon us, cold, dark, silent. mirrors
The senses become alert, watchfully seeking of life unseen.
But for what? Prisms
What lurks in the depths, stalking its prey like a cat on hunt? of pure color
We walk though shadows, buying time. bright.
Waiting, listening carefully, painfully alert. Sunlight
Like some primitive, fearing the absence of light. dances
Never certain of what the void brings with it. with delight.
Who its victim shall be. Whispers
What we fear is within us. let your soul
The evil is always there, waiting to strike out. take flight.
The loneliness takes hold, it slowly strangles us.
We hover in crowds, amid noise and blinding flashes of light. Emptiness
All to hide
From the enemy
Within I wonder what happened to life
It is ourselves As I sit here carefully dissecting tho
Have I depended too desperately on
Agony Banking all my feelings in that one
All I ever wanted was to be able to
The way you have touched me
The pain is very real, it is deep I based my very existence on that d
A dull ache which threatens to swallow up my very being Your very presence gave me life
It chokes me, it steals my breath away I allowed myself to be totally consu
It blinds me, I cannot see through the tears How much is too much
Life is empty I have given up all in the sake of lo
I am numb of any feeling, hollow Now, without you, I am drained
I am overwhelmed with this vacuum within me
Nothingness Lost and Found
I do not exist
Oh, how I wish I did not exist
In the early morning light
Maze I turn around
And look to find myself
Only to discover
Life is but a maze That I am lost once more.
Of lonely nights
And lonelier days In the darkness of the night
Filled with plights I assure myself
Wandering through haze That I will find
Void of delights The answer to the question
Dealing with craze I fear too much to ask.
Blinded from sights
Of happier ways As I sit here in my world
I feel the truth
Is coming near
Break Open If only I can touch it
Before it destroys me.
Break open your shell Quicksilver
... just this once
Break open your shell
... let me in The full moon peeks from behind th
Into your every pore The trees bare branches silhouetted
Feel the emotions flowing The moon casts its shadow like som
... like a mighty river The eerie mantle of its soft radiance
Feel them burning wild Its light flows over the land as it illu
... reach out - it wont hurt. It is like liquid silver as it stretches
Break open, wide open Mercurial in its ability to evoke wo
Feel the gentleness In all those who happen to be awak
... soft like fur - stroke it
Hear it purring
... for you alone.
Overcast Mind
The clouds close in...
The rain comes down.
I wonder about nothing.
My mind is empty,
As if the clouds
Have filled my head.
The dreariness invades
My very being.
Damp, dark, cold days,
Filled with nothingness.
I and the weather are
One and the same
Since you left.
