The Fire of my Storm

Inside my chest

is a raging child

she buckles up her seat belt

and waits for the accident

it is coming

it always does.
I remember her at six

how the piano freed her soul

and anger burned her wings

in burial grounds

where her mother met her fate.

This storm inside her at sixteen

tore apart all her friendships

these addictions to people

taught her about toxicity.

Now at thirty-four

she sleeps alone

and waits for the shores

of her youth to be

taken by the roads she missed.

She is a calm wave

waiting for her destiny

and lightening.

Spilt Wine

Start the night with wine

in my hair, on my dress,

in my stockings

brand new shoes

bare shoulder

and a few broken

apologies. I saw it

coming too,

and just watched it.

Kind of like life

that was yesterday.

Tonight,

now another bar

another jazz singer

singing the blues

under copper tiled ceilings

and feathers in her hair

you’d think it was suddenly

1920 art deco Paris.

But no,

it’s the house of Jazz

in Laval, Quebec.

Hanging with the girls

who sold my life away.

Do you pay the bill?

Cosmos and red chandeliers

blue bottine in the vitrine

and it’s a wonderful world

in here.

The only thing missing is you

with me.

It makes me cry

you’ll never see

what I see.

Not even pictures

do it justice.

Rita called me

she’ll be 20

minutes late,

god damn Montreal traffic.

It’s fine.

I’ll order another Cosmo

write a poem.

Listen to the jazz singer

and lament

you.

Healing Hugs

 

Everyone needs some healing hugs

that connect us all

without a touch.

One body to love

so hold onto

your mystery

clasp it like a lost key

embrace the wrongs

don’t make them right.

Let your soul flow like your hair on a naked body

want no one

ask no questions.

Sleep poets and dreamers,

do not ask why, do not,

don’t let the bastards get you down.

Are you aware? Are you asleep?

Keep driving, don’t stop at pit stops, they suck you up and never let go of white souls

-Christina Strigas

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Photo by @antoniodjanikian ———————–

#fridayfuckery #longformfriday #streamofconsciousness

#amwriting #christinastrigas

#poem #poetsofig #writing #freeversepoetry #poetrycommunity #poets #poeticsighs #montreal #lovepoems #wordporn

Never Tell

I can never tell who loves me anymore

they like to rehash old shit

from five years ago

when I wasn’t the same person.

They like to pretend they know me

because they read my poems.

I can never tell who needs me anymore

they live their own life

without calling me

or texting me a simple hello.

I can never tell who wants me anymore

they don’t say “i want you”

they ignore me

and make me feel useless

and hated.

I can never tell the time anymore

it keeps on making my future

unattainable.

I am losing my witching powers

and becoming too normal

I dislike people

and only want them one on one.

Groups are killing my spirit

eating up my leftovers

and wiping their mouth

with glee

at my destruction.

I just can’t tell anymore

if love

is real.

Live my life

I want to be me but you keep on repeating

how my world is not yours. I want to be  you

but you keep on explaining how hard

that could be, what with my wings

and my brains in the sky.

I want to be someone else

just for a day

these blues in me

keep singing.

I bust out once in awhile

and go to the hotel

and stare at the window

and wonder what happened to us.

It’s three o’clock in the morning

and you’re actually sleeping

through my existential crisis.

Again? yes, again and again

I knew you could never handle me.

Why do people who say

“I love you” want you to change

in ways that are not in your nature?

I say “I love you” and can define why.

I love the flaws and imperfections.

I see the world in an absurd way

in a theatre with the playwrights

who made it so. Ionesco weeps

with me too. We all discuss the marvels

of how hating someone

is still loving someone.

I don’t know how you came

to use sex and art as your bullets.

I caught them in my mouth and with my pen

and looked at you to see the love in your eyes

but it wasn’t there.

I still love you though.

I know I don’t deserve it.

I’m wicked now.

A human weeping willow tree,

churning poems for no money.

If only we could be rich

off of words.

If only you cared for me

more than what you claim.

Loving me is difficult I know.

I thought you would smash all the pictures

along my wall

but you only added your photo there

and now I stare at emptiness.

I embrace cupid

and this horrible frightening love.

 

Book Reiew of “Deciduous” by Higherhawk

Higherhawk has written a poetry book divided into three sections. Love, Grief and Life. Each part reveals a depth to his poems and emotions. There are mostly short poems full of longing and love. Each poem has a title so it is easy to refer back to the poems. “Open Sea” is one that stood out for me, “There is a stillness that falters out in the open sea. Something beyond the calm pulling at my soul, or is that your echo calling me home.”

The pull of the sea and love is compared in a wise analogy. In the poem, “The Veil,” the poet reveals a deep connection with a woman who has touched the poet’s soul with her love.

The illustrations by Lee Zimmerman are a wonderful accompaniment to this lovely poetry book. Some poems have illustrations to reflect the words, such as, “Slips Further: Pen and Ink”


Higherhawk writes romantically and reflects on nature often. He writes about desire and loving a woman as if it were an art. He describes it in detail in the poem, “Clay” where we see how much he adores and cherishes the woman or muse he describes.


Love is comforting in this book; to be loved and to love in return, like the greatest love story, two lovers in a tunnel of love in the middle of the forest or in each other’s arms. The forest is a constant theme within the book, running, walking or being alone among the trees. Equally, the sun and sunlight are also quite prominent in Higherhawk’s poems.

Deciduous’s second part of the book is Grief, and this section depicts the loss of a loved one in extraordinary detail and the heartbreak one carries around.

There are many great poems in this book that touch your heart. The fact that I got a signed copy makes this book extra special to me. I highly recommend this poetry book as a beautiful addition to your collection.
Check out Higherhawk’s Social Media sites below:

https://m.facebook.com/higherhawkpoet/

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16620240.Higherhawk

Twitter: @higherhawk

Book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XRDKFW5

One day

One day I will wake up dead and the life you breathed

into me with thumbs pounding on keys

will have meant nothing. nothing at all.

One day I will meet you again

after months of wanting

kiss you on your  tender lips

and feel your arms squeeze me tightly.

One day we will not even remember

each other’s smell. All of our physical pain

will have taken over our desire.

One day I will walk on the beach alone

and crave your hand in mine.

It is not even real, this love.

Back doors are open

and front doors are locked.

I died once and came back with

a new identity

someone stole Chrissy

and brought back a new version.

You would think she would be smarter

but she keeps on fucking up

mixing up sins with duties.

I lifted my dress for you

but you moved on now.

Other dresses are softer

and no one fights for anyone

anymore. Only lyrics

matter.

I can make them real somehow.

Did you feel the heat between my legs?

It was real, that I could not deny.

 

 

Book Review of “Abandoned Breaths Poetry, Quotes, and Poetic Prose” by Alfa

Alfa’s first book of poetry is a treasure. A collection of poems, quotes and prose that are filled with maturity and experience. This is what makes Alfa’s poems so relatable, the fact that her words are full of knowledge and experience. A wise poet passing on advice on how to fall in and out of love. Her writing is natural and effortless.
Alfa need only go by one name, like Madonna, because she has superpowers in her diction. Alfa describes love, heartbreak, sorrow, loss and healing all in one poem. This is her gift; how she can combine all these emotions and feelings in one quote or line. There is a plethora of quotes in “Abandoned Breaths” that are perhaps familiar if you follow her on social media. This familiarity in Alfa’s writing is what makes her work so authentic. Her soul, her poetry, her quotes, are essentially her “superpowers” which she portrays with a tactful grace.

“Never make the mistake

of thinking a quiet soul

is an empty one.”

This quote is a popular one of hers that we can find on her social media pages. Evdience of this is how her words are tattooed on people’s skin.

I especially like the longer pieces that are full of soul-searching. Every page is a storm full of words. Let her rain soak you.

I had the pleasure of also editing this book and being part of the production, but last week I sat with it and read it as a reader. I held on to it for a few days and read some passages over and over. I never close the door to poems. I feel that Alfa’s book is one that I will read to help me in times of need. No fluff here.

“Abandoned Breaths” is an honest and inspiring book that can reach out to millions over any type of sorrow or loss they may experience.
Alfa has a universal way of touching your soul through her simple and direct words that make a lasting impression. I would highly recommend this debut poetry book. It is a gem. Check our her blog and other sites below for yourself.
Social Media:

http://www.alfapoet.com

http://www.facebook.com/alfawrites

http://www.instagram.com/alfa.poet

Twitter:@alfa_poet
Her book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/099805030X/ref=olp_product_details?_encoding=UTF8&me=

5 tips for Editing Poetry Books

I have recently edited a few poetry books for fellow poets. I find that most poets, find it hard to edit their own poems and a second opinion is sometimes necessary to get out of their own head. I must admit that I never hired a poetry editor for my three poetry books, but I had a particular vision and look that I knew I wanted for my poems.

If you are looking for a poetry editor or you are editing your poems yourself here are 5 tips that worked for me and how I go about editing poetry books.

  1. After every draft, you should put your manuscript away for over two weeks and clear your mind. As many times as you go through your manuscript, is as many times you must put it aside. This ensures that you start fresh every time and believe me, every time you read it, you will find something that you need to correct or revise. Do this up until there is nothing left to rewrite. Do not settle until you feel your book is done. Eventually, you will know.
  2. You can divide your poetry book into sections or parts with titles so that it flows for the reader. Also, a table of contents with the list of poems at the beginning of the book is always helpful to quickly find a poem. Lately, some poets are not using any titles or table of contents…if you choose to do so, make sure that you divide your book into sections such as loss, healing, love, death, etc. so that there is some kind of order. There are not many rules in poetry and anything may go for certain poets, but in my experience, the books that have no titles or breaks are hard to read and difficult to distinguish one poem from the next.
  3. Every poetry book needs a Copyright page, a Dedication page, Acknowledgements page, at the beginning of the book and an About the Author Page at the end of the book. Number your pages. Look at the poetry books in your library and see how the professionals do it.
  4. Format, font and presentation are an integral part of a poetry book. Pay an expert to create your file in pdf with the appropriate poetic fonts and alignments. Equally, cover art and a blurb brings the book together as a whole.
  5. Make sure the poetry editor you hire has experience, knowledge and a grasp of poetic terms.

Good luck in the editing process, this is the hardest part of writing. As Ernest Hemingway wrote, ” The first draft of everything is shit.”