Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021,” published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 14 poetry books, and 1 short story book. She lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: Eclipse Lit, Carolina Muse, Sparks of Calliope; The Closed Eye Open, North Dakota Quarterly, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, Burningword Literary Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Silver Blade, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Fourth & Sycamore.
*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
Memories of Bermuda
Blue water - cold /lucid/ we dove beneath the waves crashing on pink sand - sinking ever deeper into a briny dream. Catapulting image of a life before we breathed. Clouds drifting on the surface as daylight danced to bird songs. Purple dawns lit up the sky pushing aside reality. Saturdays sweet – they languished on the tongue taunting/teasing/pleasing – unrelenting intoxication. Summer left too soon – closing the door behind it. A tower of clouds following in her wake. Sun sinking low – consumed by the sea / as it waved goodbye to paradise.
All I Ever Asked
All I ever asked of you - to hold my hand & love me. No passioned kisses nor golden gifts. No pedestals nor glittery gems. Life resulted in an endless loop of heartbreak, gathering resistance along the way. Feet dragged across a dirt floor – we dug in for the distance. Concrete promises crushed & scattered. Only dust remains. Climbing dreams that once towered high – there’s nowhere left to go. We made our bed among rose thorns. I do not have any more stories within me, as I rummage through the ruins.
We were Darkness
We walked in shadows / hours passed. Our words curling through darkness. Daylight crept in / peeking around the corner, opening its eyes. We were young then. There was only that one night / it lasted forever, playing hopscotch across black skies. We made love under starry heavens. You plucked a glowing-white moonflower & pressed it to my bosom / petals closing to dawn’s light, as you walked away. The last time I saw you, you carried sunbeams in your hand.