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Best Poems Written by Christine K Munsell

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

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

Marshall, December 16, 2024


The machinery of life is too much
The tests, the numbers, the x-rays
You are the clown cat, Marshall, always making me smile
Your white fur, your polydactyl hands that hold mine
I hold you now, I let you go, I love you
I breathe in your last breath with you.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

The Little Face I Was Born With

{This poem was entered but did not place in the ONLY 2025 POSTED POEMS CONTEST, judged on 1/21/2025}. 

This entry is for the Second Chance For Non Placement Poetry Contest

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The Little Face I Was Born With
                     Christine Munsell, January 2025


This is the little face I was born with
And when you meet me you will see 
My little baby face

You may not see it right away, 
But you will see

This little face 
With, still, the hope I had as a baby
That someone will love me

I have love
To give
To others
To the universe

People have come into my life
And I, with each one, 
Bond
And each one will detach
Like a shin splint
An injury that burns, but I know this feeling
I know how it goes

And one day, healed, 
I walk on, I walk,  not away
But just one step in front of the other
As a baby does

I am still that baby
The one my mother loved (until I matured 
And then she walked away)

Without real relationships with people
With Christmas alone, 
My birthday alone
Any illness alone  - 
I still love,

I love the animals who look at me 
With the intensity of a magic spell in child’s play
A smile of knowing - there you are,
You, my great blue heron - i love you
You, my sweet young possum, let me feed you something 
All of you stray cats in the dry blizzard, I’ve warmed up some nice wet food
For all of you.  I’ll also set out some warm water for you to drink. 
Just give me a little eye contact – I’ll talk so sweetly to you.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

I Have a Little Fire of an Orange Cat


When the world does the 24 hours again,
Without anyone remembering I am alive,
My little fire of an orange cat will crawl onto me – 
reach out and press my face with his paw,
He then kisses me. 

The house burned down behind me.
Flames and black smoke - 
Inferno as it was.
The fear as I watched this fire made my body shake.
I remembered fear in a primal way that I had not felt since I was a child.

The neighbors mutter quietly about the fire,
But no real connections have been made
About any fire – that one, or any other,
Or about us, all as neighbors
In a neighborhood where we all watched that house burn
And heard a woman screaming, “My cat is in there!  My cat is in there!”   

When the world turns around again,
Each 24 hours as it does,
Most of these turns are full of longing and want.
The world is full of sadness, and I am full of ridiculous wonder
Without anyone remembering I am alive
My little fire of an orange cat will crawl onto me - reach out and press my face with his paw
He then kisses me.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

The Poet

A scarlet scar on the left knee
Hair on my head I cut into chops myself
I dash out from under my weighted blanket of warmth 
I am allowed one cup of coffee and one cup of tea
A weak stomach from an ulcer doesn’t keep me from writing. 
Will a poet walk into my life? Will I ever have that partner?

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

In My Deepest Fantasy I Find a Writing Partner

My fantasy is to find a writing partner
The fantasy allows for a man or a woman
But you like short poetry (not too long)
You like free verse more than rhyme, 
But you’re up for the challenge of a villanelle 

My fantasy is to have a writing partner 
Who connects with nature deeply
My partner has stories about birds and spiders
My partner loves geese at the park, 
Deer in the field, 
Bison at the gate, 
And my deepest desire in my fantasy would be
That my writing partner wouldn’t dare eat animals

I have a fantasy that soon
One day, somehow, I find a writing partner
Maybe old, maybe young, maybe man, maybe woman
Who writes short, earthy poems, 
Not silly ones, 
No, not silly ones, even though we will laugh
And we will cry, and both of us are the best of listeners. 

I can’t wait to hear your latest poem.  
Sit here on my small couch in my kitchen, 
Meet me in Google Meets and let's have a virtual writing den.
I’ve missed you since last week.  
What did you write about?  Yes, you go first.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

The Peace in Rice

Perfectly made rice, white
Snow in a bowl - and peace steaming
The bowl itself - masterful in its curves
I sit at my desk - with this bowl of rice
My world sinks in as my teeth feel,
My tongue, the warmth, my eyes close again.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

Little Raccoons

It is the first day of the year, 
And I thought I saw raccoon paw prints 
in my extra bedroom – on the smooth floor
I saw the prints of long animal toes. 

I don’t see raccoons where I live now,  
And of course these prints are inside my house – 
So it has to be one of the cat’s little feet. 

It is so quiet this morning, 
And inside my house it is  shadowy and dark
With only light coming from the computer

Clocks ticking
Time passing
Little raccoons.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

The Blizzard

I have got to wake up 
And I have got to get dressed, with eyeshadow
With the intent of wings of a butterfly – my face, can it be beautiful
A little while longer – while this aging body has not yet turned on me
I need a face to match this body
To feel good about myself
Can I at least appear to be good

I must wake up, and with four cups of coffee
Searching the world through the internet 
For one good poem
Something to inspire me this one day 
Can someone out there 
Write a poem without a cliche at the end of it,
Please

I must wake up to each day with my thoughts of what is outside
In winter
The heat of Texas

Until there is a blizzard and I run out to see the snow and fall and injure my ankle so badly
I can’t walk
While the city is under feet of snow
No water
No electricity
I find a rolling stool to scoot across the floor of my house for a week
In this condition 
The blizzard, the purple ankle swollen the size of softball
Isolated
Freezing
I watch the birds that keep coming to my window
I manage to hobble outside once a day to fill the bird feeder
These birds expect 70 degree days in Texas – or at the very least 40 degrees, but
Here we are 0 degrees, then 10, and finally after a week – 32 degrees 
The birds always at my window.

I must wake up every day 
And be ready for such a blizzard again
Even if it is only in my mind – 
Even if I become frozen, which I do,
For example, recently, I fell in love for one month and one day
With a beautiful person, a man, who beats my heart – like a pounding at my door, 
BEAT BEAT BEAT BEAT.
He could be anything – a poet, a listener, an historian, a movie watcher, a lover, a Christian, a Buddhist, 
But I can’t be 
I can only be frozen
I found out after one month and one day. 

I need to look at the palette of beautiful eye shadows
These are my choices, this is what I can do:
Go to the food store – I need to walk into the store, and I will, 
Walk to the bananas and admire how they look – the yellows, and the greens, and the dark greens, 
The sizes – the very large, to the unbelievably small ones – 
And I will carefully choose one bunch of
Five green bananas.  

I will admire all of the tomatoes as well, and the onions, and the pineapples. 
I will buy crackers, tea, and coffee.

I will drive home. 
I will look back out over the street on which I live, 
Where there is no one around,
But there are several cats, and they all have names.
I will hear the birds, look for them high in the trees, and wonder why I can’t see them.

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

Bed With My Cat and A Chocolate Bar

*Written for the Ten Lines From Ten Poem Poetry Contest on Poetry Soup



My tongue, the warmth, my eyes close again.
I breathe steady while I blink consciously, 
       chocolate on my breath, in my underwear, fresh lipstick on. 

You’ve fallen in love with me. You told me. 
In my heart, you are my black-eyed pea.

Night falls electric blue, then
I go to bed alone – every night.

My little fire of an orange cat will crawl onto me – 
       reach out and press my face with his paw.
The birds always at my window,

The machinery of life is too much,
I fall like this out of this world into the darkness — thank you.



Poems 
Line 1 – The Peace in Rice
Line 2 - Breathing Lessons
Line 3 - The Adam Poem
Line 4 - Dainty Pea
Line 5 - beside city bridge
Line 6 - I Look at Trees
Line 7 - I Have a Little Fire of an Orange Cat
Line 8 - The Blizzard
Line 9 - Marshall, December 16, 2024
Line 10 – Warmer Mind Sway

Details | Christine K Munsell Poem

The Adam Poem

Adam, Adam, Adam, Adam, 
Adam. 

I do not feel any way about you with poetry -- 
other than it is my experience with you that 

You do not read much of it
At least you do not talk about it.  

If you are reading poetry that I send you 
Or if you are reading poetry secretly –
 
(From poets I do not know about)
(If you are cheating on me with other poets~)

Or if you are writing any poetry – 
Or if you dream poetry – 

If you find yourself asleep with words above your head
As I do

And these words are the hope of your day, of all your days,  
And if these words are the reason you are able to live

If these words are your soberness ~
Why do you not tell me what they are? 

You’ve fallen in love with me.  You told me. 
You’re sober for the first time in your adult life.
   
What are the words to this? 
What are your words?
 
You can whisper them to me, but there are too many. 
There must be.  I want you to write them. 

I want to read them. 
But you must read poetry, too.