POETRY: Eden Refugee – Poetry & Lyrics by Christine Bode

Poetry

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Canadian poet Christine Bode self-publishes her first book of poetry – Eden Refugee – available on Amazon and Lulu.com

KINGSTON, ON – JUNE 26, 2008 – Christine Bode was born and raised in Kingston, Ontario, Canada. She has lived in Toronto and Vancouver and has been writing poetry and song lyrics since she was a teenager. Her first poem, about Shaun Cassidy, was published by Scholastic Book Services in Rock’s Biggest Ten and in 16 Magazine in 1978. Encouraged by a letter from Bob Geldof in 1987 and mentored in this decade by Canada’s legendary broadcasting icon, former chair of the CBC, author, actor and Renaissance man, Patrick Watson, she continues to write and almost understands the meaning of metre.

Some of her work has been published in local newspapers, various American anthologies and on the Internet. Many of the original versions of the poems and lyrics in Eden Refugee have been edited.

EDEN REFUGEE viscerally reflects the experiences of a young woman consumed by sex, drugs, rock ’n’ roll, unrequited love and a constant quest for spiritual enlightenment.

This is Christine Bode’s first published collection of poetry.

Link to preview the book or order your print-on-demand copy of Eden Refugee on Amazon or Lulu.

ISBN: 978-1-4357-2630-7

SID’S SONG
July 6, 1987

Body and armchair, a fetal embrace;
Mind drifts with music to a far-away place.
Tepid breeze whispers through an open window;
Steady, shallow breathing, prostitute’s bellow.
Dusk yawns over the city; humid air, languid, still;
Sleep escapes, stay awake, swallow another pill.

Neon lights flicker, sirens scream by;
Not far, a poor bastard lies waiting to die.
Fires rage, rats scuttle, cats howl, children cry;
Dogs yapping, derelicts hacking, streetcars rattling, trees sigh.
Heroin eyes—purple haze-coloured vision;
Downtown core, a seething roach-infested prison.

Streets stink, cannot think, feet blister, skin peels;
Strain to distinguish what is imagined, dreamt or real.
Fetid heat, constant thirst; lover dead, fear the worst.
Hole in arm, needle in hand, pain all gone; where’s the band?
Fever breaks in sunshine land;
Sid will take his final stand.