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Best Poems Written by Christine Wessels

Below are the all-time best Christine Wessels poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

Self Inflicted Blues

This day I grow tired
and so incredibly weary.
My heart holds only dreams
of a Life unfullfilled
A Life not nurtured,
yet barely a glimmer
of the spirit that once was.

I do have memories of some things good 
-not all bad,
But the fear that I am alone
is Like a fingerprint on my Life.

Shadowing, waiting to pounce,
always there, unshakeable.

It's the mirrors that hold me accountable
to my actions.
Proof positive that where ever I go
there I am,
Naked, vulnerable, and yes
still alone.

As I try to allay this fear, 
one Lonely and painful pluck at a time,
It becomes crystal clear, that I alone
am damaging my soul to the very core
with each stroke of my hand.

I steal one Last Look in the mirror
and know that I alone
have self inflicted these blues
Leaves me to ponder one question:

Will I ever allow myself the strength and grace
it will surely take to heal my scarred soul?                        
                                                      
  



This poem was written in hopes of begining the healing process for my self. I 
have a disease called trichiotillamania. It is an obsessive and manic urge to pull 
one's own hair until baldness occurs. I'm a 48 year old woman, married(with kids 
& grand kids)and have been doing this since the age of 5. It coincided with the 
begining of my stepfather raping and torturing me which lasted until the age of 
thirteen. This disease has me trapped and is NEVER letting me go. There are 
two inflictions in regards to my hair pulling in this poem, one must know about 
my disease in order to understand this poem.

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

An Adequate Vocal Gesture

I do have purpose
that stays near
a constant reminder 
of my inner child

As my conscienceness
shines through to create 
a new perspective
I break out of my cocoon

Only to discover that 
I find places where
the sanctity of my being
does not flow as it should

My intuition is what 
guides me though
there is no longer the 
desire for the constant 
upheaval of tragedy to strike
upon me

On my journey I have 
discovered that there 
are many hidden truths

So as my spirit ascends 
I am inspired by my bravery...

If I am frightened 
by the visibility that 
standing proud does to me
then I shall stand even taller

No longer will I fear 
the degradation that
once was my shadow
there is no home here 
for the shame any longer

And I will no longer be 
swayed by the fragments of defeat
When I become sorely tempted by
sheer exhaustion

And I think I can't
make it on my own
I will remember that 
I am walking this
road of life for me...

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

Failure Is Not An Option

Much to the chagrin of those who
would prefer to lay witness to 
one's failure's,
Imagine not for the slightest
moment  that our will has become 
so weak as to allow compliance.

Where once our vision may have
been clouded and our boundaries
seemed forever shattered,
know in the end  that our naked
sense of vulnerability truly
is our saving grace.

For it is that woundedness
if you will that lends itself
to a higher awareness.

Do we not gain strength
from our painful life experiences?
Should we not strive harder to conquer
life's old injuries?

By following our instincts step by
step along the very road that has 
been paved before us,
And yes expecting at times that
there will be treacherous curves
we must allow for,

Oh to throw caution to the wind
and laugh in the face of failure
invites us to celebrate our 
mightiest strength of all...

        COURAGE...

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

On Lifted Wings

Oh guide us eagle spirit
towards our newborn spring
Lend your wings for our safe 
passage, your voice we'll 
follow as you sing

From your birdseye view, our 
food and shelter we will gain
over mountains through our valley's
your wings beat loudly on the plain

Shadow us from danger, give us 
flight on wings wind-swept
carve the light through
rained on forests, soar the
plateaus steer the steppes

Once spotted land for living, tip
your left wing then your right
we shall bless and name your
spirit 'Soaring Eagle Fear No Flight'



This is picture inspired by my favorite artist.
Her name is Bev Doolittle and she creates
amazing illusion works of art/ Mostly native american.
It is up to the viewer to stand back and find the 
image(s) within her paintings.
This painting is called 'Season Of The Eagle'
But i put my own title to the poem i was inspired to write.

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

I Dare To Dream

As I clutch the hand of the little girl
       who walks in my shadow..

         I dare to dream

As I gather my self-will, prepare to hold my
ground against even the slightest hint of danger..

         I dare to dream

As I distance myself to look for progress,
the distance soon becomes a measure of my emptiness..

         I dare to dream

As I look in the mirror, I see her now with
widespread wings and know that real change
is about to take place...

         I dare to dream

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Whats the Point?

I'll stop being
so disappointing
If you'll stop being
so disappointed in me

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Mandala

Sand carvers paintings
engulfed in magic circles
mandala symbols








(My very first attempt at haiku)

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So... How's Your Day Going?

You know you are having a good day when...
It dawns on you that you can light your own fire

You know you are having a good day when...
You feel at peace each night when you retire

You know you are having a good day when...
They say "Mom it's from you our life's inspired"

You know you are having a good day when...
All you have is all in life you desire

I just had myself a great day...
How 'bout you?

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

Eden's Stairway

Travel     
          this garden path
        grown in pixelations 
 worldly colors lain before me
              I weep 








If only i could share the breathtaking pic this was inspired  by... Heaven on earth, AAAHHH
Actually another poet  (another site) suggested i use more imagery and blah, blah, blah
This form cinquain leaves not much room for error, so every word has to 
be meaningful, (besides it's officially only my 2nd attempt ) i even like the way 'cinquain' 
rolls off my tongue, CINQUAIN, cinquian,, Everybody, all together now cinq ... tee-he

Details | Christine Wessels Poem

A Valentine Poem For My Grandson

Roses are red, violets are blue,
i wanted a grandson and god gave me you.

I knew we would fish, sometimes all day long,
and then we would end our night in a song.

I know you're getting big,
and someday you'll drive your rig.

But never forget, you'll always hold
the key to my heart.
. 
       Love Grannypants
p.s. get yer fishin'pole ready
'cause there's fish to be had at the riverssippi

(My grandson always called the mississippi river,
the riverssippi)