Ann Christine Tabaka placed Third in Vita Brevis Best Poem Contest both January & February 2018. Her Interview in Spillwords was voted Publication for the Month for March 2018. and she was selected as Poet of the Month for January 2018 and interviewed by Kingdoms in the Wild. She lives with her husband and two cats in Delaware and loves gardening and cooking. Her most recent credits include poems in Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, and The Paragon Journal, among others. She was a nominee for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry.
Unraveling Rhyme
The rhyming and the not,
as if I had forgot,
the words of many years,
embedded in my tears.
Days of youth have passed.
The die has long been cast.
Pieces of my life
still wading through the strife.
The time has come and gone.
I waited far too long.
My words have all gone stale,
now lost beyond the pale.
The fire that once burned,
has long ago been spurned.
My passions all I gave,
lie cold beyond the grave.
Citrus sinensis Rutaceae
Plucked from the tree,
fragrant orb in hand.
Thumb poised at pedicel,
leathery flesh is pierced.
Aromatic spray released into the air,
the bite of citric acid on skin.
White pith clings to wedged segments.
Sticky juice runs down the arm,
anticipating the sweet reward.
Endocarp popped in mouth.
All sensations heighten and merge,
while peeling an orange.
Words of Truth
I search no more for words of truth,
as my words died today.
Buried beneath weary feet,
that have trod too many miles.
Missives all beaten to dust,
are scattered far and wide.
Settled on the path of indifference,
devoured by voracious wolves.
What is in an appellation,
call me what you will.
I am the opposite of myself,
a contradiction of terms.
A hundred times I tried,
and a hundred times I failed.
The waywardness of effort
to be pondered at its worth.
Now shame hides behind the veil
as I struggle with my fate.
My words no longer carry truth,
for I have been undone.
Ann Christine Tabaka
Unraveling Rhyme
The rhyming and the not,
as if I had forgot,
the words of many years,
embedded in my tears.
Days of youth have passed.
The die has long been cast.
Pieces of my life
still wading through the strife.
The time has come and gone.
I waited far too long.
My words have all gone stale,
now lost beyond the pale.
The fire that once burned,
has long ago been spurned.
My passions all I gave,
lie cold beyond the grave.
Citrus sinensis Rutaceae
Plucked from the tree,
fragrant orb in hand.
Thumb poised at pedicel,
leathery flesh is pierced.
Aromatic spray released into the air,
the bite of citric acid on skin.
White pith clings to wedged segments.
Sticky juice runs down the arm,
anticipating the sweet reward.
Endocarp popped in mouth.
All sensations heighten and merge,
while peeling an orange.
Words of Truth
I search no more for words of truth,
as my words died today.
Buried beneath weary feet,
that have trod too many miles.
Missives all beaten to dust,
are scattered far and wide.
Settled on the path of indifference,
devoured by voracious wolves.
What is in an appellation,
call me what you will.
I am the opposite of myself,
a contradiction of terms.
A hundred times I tried,
and a hundred times I failed.
The waywardness of effort
to be pondered at its worth.
Now shame hides behind the veil
as I struggle with my fate.
My words no longer carry truth,
for I have been undone.
Ann Christine Tabaka