ANN CHRISTINE TABAKA - POEMS

Ann Christine Tabaka is a nominee for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry.
She lives in Delaware, USA.  She is a published poet and artist. She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats.    Her most recent credits are Page & Spine, The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review; Foliate Oak Review,The Metaworker, Raven Cage Ezine, RavensPerch, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, Longshot Island, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Advaitam Speaks Literary Journal, Ann Arbor Review.
*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
 

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​Hope Rising
​

The metered march of madness
ferrets along the path of bewilderment,
forsaking all rational thought.
 
Finding fallowness where
once great riches presided.
Painted with the darkness of doubt,
 
migrant minds do wander.
A small trinket of enlightenment,
the prize above all prizes.
 
Propelled beyond the distant reach,
while finding one’s way back
through the loneliness of lost time. 
 
Salvation lies ahead
within the sheltered steps of truth.
One slight push and the
 
paper thin walls of deceit collapse
under their own weight.
Hope rising from the rubble.
 

​After Man
​

 
Nothing more exists, but the wind in the trees,
translated into whispers by vanishing time.
All that was is no more.
 
Spread thin with busyness and strife
there is nothing left to give to tomorrow.
The night swallowed up all. 
 
Red carpets and black limousines,
things of the past.
Books left open with no one to read.
 
Nature has taken over
with no thought of loss. 
The best will survive as it always has been.
 
Decaying structures,
a salute to the past.
The earth continues to spin.
 ​

Crash Landing
 ​

The entire city was asleep, as if everyone had
fallen off the edge of the universe. The sound
of the fountains was heightened by the night.
 
Each footstep echoed your name loudly
through the  emptiness, as it bounced
back to me off of brick walls.
 
A soft glow filled the sky, as the moon rose
above the haze. It was the ultimate romance
novel, that had gone completely wrong.
 
The city of dreams lay before me, but I was all
alone, experiencing my own thoughts while
seeing life through someone else’s eyes.
 
Then all of a sudden there you were,
standing right before me. A white rose in
 your hand, saying your good-byes.
 
As petals fell softly onto the sidewalk,
landing with a crash so deafening
that it woke the morning.
 

Burnished silver pull knobs
​

on wooden drawers, distort the
images of surrounding objects.
I am intrigued, trying to discern
the blurry world being reflected
back at me. My perception of
reality is twisted and stretched
following the spherical shape
of the handles. The effects are
quite disturbing, playing games
with my vision. Illusions abound
on such small surface. Delightfully
dizzying designs modulate,
entertaining the mind.  An entire
world of imagination, all while
exploring burnished silver pull knobs.
 ​

On the Shelf
 ​

I sit here and wait
for someone to come along,
and snatch me up.
 
like free goodies to sample
at a grocery store display.
The tasty tempting morsels
 
that everybody wants to try.
Who will grab this delectable
treat and claim me for their own?
 
I’ve sat on the shelf for far too
long and fear that I may grow stale,
forgotten and out of date,
 
pushed to the back of the stacks.
So, won’t you please come
and get me while I last?
​