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

Poetry

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,
Affirmations,
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

Poetry

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

Everett,
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.

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.