POETRY: “I Make Lists on My Phone” by Christine Bode


I Make Lists on My Phone

A poem by ©Christine Bode 2021

I make lists on my phone –
Notes from Brené Brown’s books,
My personal shame inventory,
Favourite TV shows,
Who I consider myself to be,
My top 50 books,
What I want for my life,
Ideas for poems about COVID-19,
Qualities had by the guy of my dreams,
Men I can remember sleeping with,
What’s important to me,
Recipes, quotes,
Psychic medium readings,
Parks to visit for nature walks,
Friends who awoke,
Christmas card recipients,
How to control emotions before a full moon,
People in my life I value and miss,
Ideas for courses,
Films by Jim Jarmusch, and
My bucket list.
I make lists on my phone—
That’s all you need to know.

Learn more about my first book of poetry, Eden Refugee, here. If you know anyone who would enjoy it, please share.

POETRY: “Become the Observer,” by Christine Bode


Become the Observer

A poem by ©Christine Bode 2021

This seeker is an empath;
a truth seeker,
always striving for more
knowledge and understanding
of a world
she’s been at war with—
in her mind—more lately
than ever before;
searching for something that will
give her faith in God,
hope for the future,
relief from grief.
At 57 years of age,
she finally realizes
that the truth has always
been within. All she
needed to do
was listen closely
and start over again.
Become the observer,
step outside of external dramas,
go inside her heart,
become neutral and
let her higher self show her
the right moment
to stop fighting, and
to help others.
The secret is
there is no absolute truth;
everything in the universe
is permitted as part
of its evolution. When we
become the observer,
we enter the eye of the storm,
connect with our hearts,
and therein we find
love and harmony.
There is well-being in
our shadow selves,
so no need to ignore
as the body operates in tandem
with the subconscious mind.
There is peace in silence,
and when the noise of humanity
invades the quiet,
nature and sound healing
help seal the cracks.
Don’t take life too seriously;
enjoy the journey,
dream big,
love yourself,
follow your interests, and
LET GO of anything else
that doesn’t resonate.
You are all that and
a bag of chips—
you are the observer,
the great I AM.

“The Matrix” a Poem by Christine Bode

Lonely Is The Man Without Love
Painting by Karl Kenda; owned and photographed by Larry Samson

The Matrix

by Christine Bode

in the movie Paterson says, 
after pulling a fake gun on everyone in the bar, 
“Without love, what reason is there for anything?”
I don’t know, Everett… nothing, 
not a fucking thing that matters anyway.
Without love, every day is the same damn pandemic day.
Wake up, walk the dog, 
make coffee, 
drink coffee, read a book,
do housework, 
work at the computer, walk the dog, eat lunch, 
work at the computer some more…
Make dinner, eat it, 
walk the dog, 
maybe phone a friend, 
watch Netflix, 
go to bed.
Get up the next day and 
do it all over again…
in pain.
For what?
How many useless facts can I hold in my head? 
I forget more than I learn, 
every day, 
so little of it matters.
Without love, 
there’s no reason for anything.
Without love, 
every day’s a pandemic day.
Without love…
we don’t really exist.
It’s all just the matrix.

Thank you, Jim Jarmusch, for the inspiration.

The Herald by Dean J. Baker

Book Review
Title: The Herald
Author: Dean J. Baker
Publisher: Mad Poet Press
Released: 2010
Pages: 50
ISBN: 978-1-926825-24-3
Stars: 4.0

Dean J. Baker is an edgy, opinionated Canadian poet whose work has been complimented by no less an authority than Irving Layton. I cannot disagree with the Nobel Prize nominee when he states that,

“Dean is a combination of thought and torment that has made him write more than a Baker’s dozen of fine poems…he might produce a collection that could astound us all.”

Baker’s compilation of poems entitled The Herald prove that he is a contemporary wordsmith of the finest caliber who injects each line with keen observation, poignant beauty and pain. He obviously writes from experience and reminisces about everything from childhood (Rice Lake, 1962) to relationships (License and A Friend), failed romance (Pollyanna and Matins) and the torment of his muse (A Jealous God).

One can sense the influence of Allen Ginsberg and Bob Dylan in particular with a pinch of Mordecai Richler attitude thrown in for good measure. However, Baker’s voice is uniquely his own and he knows how to wring emotion as well as remarkable, visceral landscapes from his pen.

Some of my favourites from The Herald include The Uselessness of Want, The Life of the Sensitive Kid, The Poetry Hotel, Coming of Age, Last Romantic, Invitation and…

This Earth

What was I running from
when everything was
beside me

Shaking at the thought
of you, inside
each move I made

When I couldn’t say
who was called that night
into silence

in my pain

it is myself
I come upon like this

Dean J. Baker has a somewhat lewd sense of humour (that I can often appreciate) which is more evident in his descriptive and satiric prose, Baker’s Bad Boys, dedicated to his brother Terry and their naughty childhood delinquent poo-flinging escapades; and at times, an irascible intellect that does not seem to suffer fools gladly.

Baker is also a romantic 21st century man whose non-conformance to political correctness probably gets him into hot water with women but I’m sure they never stop falling for his astonishing way with words.