Best Christina Poems
When we were nine
and yearning, outcasted
I did not understand the bruised
nature of your soul. Perhaps I
do not understand even now.
I remember
how I criticized you for the way
you sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"
in your warbling baby voice
also how you were the only one
who ever acknowledged me.
I remember
how you lived with grandparents, aunts
instead of your methhead parents.
Your blonde hair. Your ugly clothes.
Freckles and a cheap brand of romanticism.
A picture of you and me, sixteen:
I remember
you used to say, "Call me Puff"
to all the dangerous boys; we once
crowded on a dirty mattress with four
other people passing bong for weed,
pipe for that toxic crystal Devil of
devils. I remember
you fed me cigarettes, cherry tomatoes
from your grandfather's garden.
A lightless smoky room full
of young and lonesome prisoners
of perpetuated misguided soul-searching--
I remember
how we savored our shared pain
like something holy. Godhead of
black magic and the violation
of innocence.
Today I
am torn of that chrysalis,
and I think sometimes of your soul
left there to stagnate
in the dark. Christina
I don't know how to say
any of this to you,
but when I remember how
you fed me cherry tomatoes
I think of your grandfather
finding you out, you were feeding
meth to your young teenaged sister
so she wouldn't care if your
boyfriend and all his friends
f***ed her.
I remember
feeling so much love for you (sister?)
when now your name compels in me
nothing but disgust--this disgust
which bruises my soul, Christina...
I never wanted to feel this.
My daughters, I’m so very proud of you.
You have grown to become, fine young women.
Let not your hearts or lives be ruled by men.
Stand fast, and to your own desires be true.
Take what you need, but no more than your due.
Act cautiously, you are noblewomen.
Speak softly for, you are gentlewomen.
Let integrity shine, in all you do.
Know this my daughters, I've always loved you.
Every day, you are in my thoughts, my prayers.
That God grant you wisdom, in all affairs.
May your strength and your courage be renewed.
For every challenge in life you pursue.
How I wish I were there to ease your cares.
And to mend your hearts, from life's little tears.
Remember this, I will always love you.
Sparks aflame my sanctuary
Flickering, roaming glints
Over valleys of bygone years
So long kept in shadows
Traversing the bleakest darkness
Where heat of love evades
As the cool of Prussian blue night
Forms a silky silent shroud
Unravelling threads of sorrow's blinding
Guiding me from night to day
And through the hush, a glow emerges
Soft as songbird's first breath
Now embered dreams ignite ahead
The past melts in morning's hue
And where the lantern's light has led
Hope rekindles burning true
Once a muse named Christina
who had the wisdom of Athena
made a suggestion
sage without question
and I followed into that arena
she recommended that I write
‘bout fairy tale characters with bite
now there are many
to choose aplenty
I’ll be writing late into the night
Although Christina does not know it
she's turned me to a kind of poet
who can be silly
write willy nilly
and be careful that I don't blow it!
All around me, vegetables grow -
ripened by the soil upon which I kneel.
I fan my brow with a curved lettuce leaf
as I quietly study the geography of my legs.
The stilled roots inside my calves,
slightly veined yet supple, are
stroked by the sinewy arms of a
tomato vine. From my angle, lofty
statues standing taller than giraffes,
bend into leaning and nuture my wounds.
Proud cornhusks purse their lips
towards the mouth of Zeus. They speak
in a tongue only I can decipher and
hear. Two celery stalks are my drumsticks.
A whittled carrot acts as my piccolo and a
soundless symphony inaugurates in Cushing.
My Sunday cotton dress becomes moistened
with dewdrops and sweat. Pushing a fallen
strand of hair behind my ear, I stare ahead.
Focusing upon the neatly aligned rows of
strawberries and cantaloupes, I exhale.
The fruits of my labor cuddle the earth, as
does a belt caressing one’s waist. A topical
strap that separates paralysis from mobility.
The house and the barn seem miles away.
Distracted by the continuing concerto, I
ignore the distance and prop myself into
a seated position. Hushed harmonies rise
and empower, as I nurse my gifts from Dionysus.
Purity’s essence is dissected and the consent
of being is absorbed. I look back at my legs and nod,
as I gingerly study the secret science of a twinkling.
Each subject breathes in a different way
with intimacy I can feel
Where images will call me
to fall into the spell.
Emotion draws me
to the place where
Christina's
beauty
dwelled
_____________________________
Based on the paintings of Andrew Wyeth
And his series of "Christina"
12//10/15
Cherished Christina,Miracle gift from God with love
Heavenly angels delivered you from twinkling stars above
Radiant blush graces tender soft skin
Intertwining hearts as life journey begins
Special little lady warms our home with harmony
Tremendous happiness her smile brings to family
Intricate weaving of emotional destiny
Nurtured by parents who treasure your sweet birth
Admired among precious jewels upon earth
Written by Linda Marie Bariana-Rinaldi
Sweetheart of the Soup
This poem was part of the gift OurLinda Marie sent to Christina on her birth..
Its one of the treasures so close to my heart.
I told her I would post it due toChristina's first birthday on 27th august.
Its been months since she vanished from P.S
Last news was thatShe was ill..
Wish to hear from her again
Thanks Linda-Miss you loads
Dear friends
I'm sorry I'm not here lately,my life is very busy,with many new happenings,
yet I'm still here with you in spirit.I just want to share this great miracle with you.
My daughter Christina was born last Monday,27th of August at 11.30PM,
following a long difficult labour. I was out of hospital on Friday,
and now getting accustomed to my new role as a Mommy.
I would love to thank so much each one of whom kept me and my family in prayer
during these last months .....I shall keep you in my prayers too
Much love-Charmaine
The Poet’s Pluck – Christina Rossetti
In MY DREAM I see A PORTRAIT
And REMEMBER a girl I used to know,
SHE SAT AND SANG a loving song
Of a boy from Oh, so long ago.
In DREAM LAND she seems ALOOF
As if THE WORLD were far away,
But the song she sings I know so well,
It is the song we learned to play.
IN AN ARTISTS STUDIO I hear that song
That we sang for a year or so
And A PORTRAIT still lives in MY DREAM
Though we sang Oh, so long ago.
08/02/17
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She being Christina
Poetic Maltese Maiden
Such lines I've learnt
Growing my poetry grading
Of love, life and it's surrounds
Many a day took my breath away
You only have to read her words
From the page I hear them say
Be unto others, and they'll be unto you
Love all those around, in turn they'll be true
But more importantly be you, for you are their core
As they are to you, the word love she so adores
Christina why do you laugh
at the men with whom you make love?
Do you have beliefs, any hopes?
Do you cry?
Do you need?
Do you fear?
Christina tell me all your fears
Ignore the devil when he laughs
Like me I know you need
someone special to love
I say "In the rain we all cry
when we lose sight of hope."
Christina do you see the lighthouse of hope
Or the angry sea as fear?
She asks "Have you ever seen a seagull cry
Or for that fact laugh?"
"They are free of the burden of love
But they see the sea as home."
Christina cries in need
"What does it take to have hope?"
"I want love
I hate fear
I want to laugh
Whenever I cry"
"Christina please don't cry
Because it's you I need
I want to hear God laugh
I want to shake His hand and hope
That all of my fears
Don't get in the way of all my love"
Christina is in love
That is why she can cry
The angry sea crashes in fear
That's how it feeds its need
To destroy all hope
and the reason we all laugh
So Christina you don't need to fear
As land is now within sight
And as you reach shore we will reunite
Christina Georgina Rossetti 1839-1894
a true inspiration I find her to be
devout Christian a poet of great skill
possessing lyrical gifts for all to see
To my eyes her masterpiece was
writing through Jesus Christ's eyes
"the love of Christ that passeth knowledge"
this insightful work makes one's heart to rise
Portraying all the emotions of Calvary
the horror and agony of it all
what a sacrifice the Christ had paid
totally obeying His heavenly call
This poetical work shows Christ's victory
as one seeking a kingdom to gain
so His disciples could reap it's reward
as their Lord would eternally reign
So Christina is a true classic poet
one that inspires many a pen
London born of the Victorian era
few can compare with now or then
AUTHOR NOTES: Christina Georgina Rossetti 1839-1894, my inspiration in writing poetry ,
a queen among many poetical gems. my favourite being
'the love of Christ that passeth knowledge".
A heart like hers was true,
To me, I always felt like I knew you.
To many, a blessing you were,
When all of a sudden, there came a blur.
It all came down fast like the rain,
Giving my heart the greatest pain.
On the floor, I was curled up in a ball.
I was ready to crumble and fall.
On my knees, I was praying.
In my head, your songs I kept replaying.
You are now at peace,
My tears will now cease.
Forever your name will live on,
As if you were never gone.
With love,
Away you flew like a white dove.
Moist tracks of my mermaid’s feet
Her heart beats with coastal heat
From her touch worries retreat….
With her I’m complete