sometimes you have to accept that people change more than you

Christina Strigas

I do not know

what you truly think

of me

or of all my dead lovers.

Once they kissed my skin

wrapped me up in denim

cheap corner motels

backseat heaven

kissed them in closets

on gurnies, trust me

you would not care

how I wore my black phase

through my blue one,

how my breasts and legs

led me through lines

free cocktails, drugs,

rides, vip sections,

limos, rock stars.

He said “you are art”

and never read my verse,

but he lived in some kind

of utopia

and locked me out.

I wandered up and down Brooklyn

Bridge, examining initials.

In and out of phone booths

with quarters in my pocket

and collect calls on my mind.

“You are my art” he explained

but I never wanted my dark hair

spread on his sofa

so he could paint me

in various naked poses,

“no,” I said,

“I like…

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i believe in the power of words over people

Christina Strigas

I am open for

take out

sit down

read my menu.

I have books for you


and I baked

what I promised.

Everything I write

is set in ink

or pencil

to be erased

or deleted

from the entrée.
My main dish is

an epic poetry dance poem

combine them all in one

or choose

à la carte.
I brew specialty coffee

for you

my lover




all black

for your heart.

no sweetness.

no honey.

Pure bean

the way you desire.
After the bill

follow me into the kitchen

and remove all your clothes

to put the fermé

sign on the door.
No one can disturb us now.
Bon Appétit.

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love the poem not the poet

Christina Strigas

i hope you realize

that covers will not

keep you away. words

will steal the night

from us. music will

drain the veins.

my undergarments

will vanish. trickery

in the city.

do you see


on the street

with Brooklyn

in my eyes

and water

around us?

i float and swim

while you take the bus

to Chinatown.

(this is from my poetry book Love & Vodka p. 22 available at all on-line bookstores)

thank you so much for reading.

i appreciate all of you here at wordpress for allowing me to express myself and creating poetry.

stay beautiful.

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There is a Man

There is a man walking his dog

his grip on them tight

like the love I let go.

He is the one I can never have

for he would take care of me

and I would never accept that.

I walk my dog, I feed my brain.

There is a man in the waiting room

staring at me while I cough up a lung.

I put on eyemakeup for the occasion

have pink nails

and will definitely change my hair color

because his eyes remind me of yours.

And we all need to change

ourselves, our tires

our cars, I prefer not to.

I like you just so. 

I hope you are having so much fun

it brings you out of your loneliness,

you always fare better than I do.

I envy that about you.

There is a man who exists somewhere

that is thinking about a girl like me

pondering existentialism 

theatre of the absurd

waiting for godot

for decades

and still absent from life.

Tears and Confetti

Christina Strigas

I stopped thinking about how you would

react to something I do years ago. The red

cardinal bird reminds me all the time

of the brown color of your eyes. Death descends

and takes away hope. It takes away

all the achievements you have missed

while sleeping. If only I could

combine my tears with confetti

to celebrate your death and my life

in one afternoon. I could sit

with your ghost and tell you

about all the stories you missed.

Besides myself, first thing I would

tell you is thank you for protecting

my son from being hit by a car,

from his injuries, I know it was you.

(and so does he)

Thank you for watching over us

and wiping my tears when I drive.

I know it was you. Thank you

for reminding me of what is

important even when I cannot

hear your voice, it still…

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Love or lust

Christina Strigas

first it’s my eyes

then it’s your heart

pounding. Your kiss

lights my soul. My

love for you empties

the darkness. what’s

left of us? you ask.
the lust. the desire.
your arms around me,

drowning my river

turning me slowly

into all you crave.
love and lust me.
my body and soul

and mind

are waiting.
as are my legs

ready to wrap them

around your waist.
from my book:

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