Christine Natale (August 9,1955 / New Jersey)
Biography of Christine Natale
Christine Natale Poems
Not In Love
It is hard to write a love poem When you’re not in love. I long to sing of flowers of fire And burning stars above.
Rest easy my darling Though first snows are falling They’re early this year, yes I know Come back to your pillow
Ever since I was thirteen I have watched for you. I know, I have always known No mortal man could ever do or give
Salome To The Head Of John The Baptist
Ah, Johannes Do you not see me? I dance for you -
Circle Of Light
There is always a circle of golden around her In the depth of the winter, a midsummer glow Her presence illumines the terrible blackness Of midnight despair and lessens the woe.
Will There Be Heroes?
Will there be heroes When dawn breaks tomorrow? Will there be heroes When the sun comes again?
Wedding At Cana
He looked into my eyes, the only part of me visible Beneath the heavy weight of veils and jewels I knew He was the only one who saw me tremble Both with fear and with happiness
Blues For Billie
You wrote your own blues, Billie Don’t need no one to tell you, lady Don’t need no one to show you, lady Don’t need no one to say it for you
Shakespeare For The Season
Shakespeare, for the season, is over, And so my own reason for being Here, where I cannot be sure I belong Except for the time I was needed.
A Child Dies
Some say that childhood is golden, As it well may be But I have seen the gold well hidden And racked by infant pain unbidden
Northwest mist hides soft fir tree horizon. We drive around curves through cold violet gray. The day never really changes; A full day of morning.
I thought that I was casual And could give my kisses free - That I could take him to my bed As the shoreline takes the sea.
I have sailed far on a bright wishing star To search for the brave and the true I’ve questioned the wise in mystical guise The directions they gave me were few
The Golden Land
My daughter runs along the sand, A golden kite string in her hand; She calls and waves along the shore Till I can’t see her anymore.
In The Absence Of Men
This peace is a remembrance
For future times when I myself
Am torn in two -
When the spirit of another invades my soul
And tears me from myself;
When passion storms arise
Within my womb
And there is nothing
But imagined death