“Doe Season in Mamma’s Kitchen” is Selected as a Feature Poem

Thanks to The Coil Magazine for selecting my work

Image by (El Caminante) from Pixabay

I am very pleased to share with you all that an exclusive magazine, The Coil, via Alternating Current Press, has chosen a poem of mine which I submitted to them in April of 2019. It takes a long time to hear back on poetry submissions, but they are so worth the wait to add credibility to your resume…so we poets submit and we wait and we hope.

I am excited to add this publication to my resume and share the post with you all here. Also this poem is a semifinalist for the Luminaire Award:

Your submission has been entered into the semifinalist round for the 2021 Luminaire Award, for a chance to win $100 and other prizes. Your submission will receive additional print publication if it is chosen as a Top-5 Finalist in the editor’s pick selection. We will be in contact with you further down the road when we are ready to lay out the forthcoming publication.

Alternating Current Press

Hop by there and see my work! The link is below 🙂

#CoilMag

The Proof is in the Reviews

About a month ago I launched “organic,” my first poetry collection.

The reviews are coming in, and they are stellar. I invite you to read them and consider ordering a copy of this book for yourself.

My book ratings today!!!

#1651 in Two-Hour Literature & Fiction Short Reads
#3671 in Poetry (Books)
#590 in Poetry (Kindle Store)
#16251 in Poetry (Books) (paperback)

For a poetry book, this is astounding.

Read the reviews here and order your copy!

organic–in paperback!

organic–Kindle version!

Goodreads

Amazon

For more information on upcoming books, and for all the latest on Christina’s writing you may join her Fiddleheads & Floss Newsletter!

https://christinaward.substack.com/p/coming-soon

Poetically Yours,

Christina Ward
Fiddleheads & Floss

Podcast Interview on Poetry–and Me!

I think you’ll really enjoy this conversation on poetry and inspiration

Author’s photo

I am sure you have all heard the buzz. I have a new poetry book out called ::organic::

The reception has been humbling. Here are a few reviews that I have received so far:

In addition to a wonderful reception for the book, I’ve been interviewed twice; once for an article which is not out yet, and once for a terrific podcast called Words from the River.

Laurie Nave did a fantastic job with the interview and I invite you to give it a listen:

Words from the River Podcast

The conversation includes poetry, the writing process, poets and poetry trends, the human experience, and our connection to the natural ecosystem. I hope that you will treat yourself today with a cup of tea and a listen to this deeply inspiring conversation.

Poetically yours,

Christina Ward
author of ::organic::

Celebrate with Me My Debut Book: Organic!!

It is a truly beautiful collection of poetry.

I am so proud of this long-awaited debut book.

To order:

organic–in paperback!

organic–Kindle version!

Order your copy now! I am pleased to have some wonderful recommendations written by other published authors and poets:

Praise for organic:

Christina Ward’s poetry is heavy with the music of nature. Soft, slow, beautiful, and strong, her verses take on the shape of the natural world around us, a world that many of us don’t take the time to see. Do yourself a favor and fall into her words. Let yourself be carried away.

 – Zach Payne, poet, author of  The Wrath and the Waves

. . .

Christina Ward’s organic heralds a new and vibrant poetic voice, one as distinctive as a bell, ringing truth in every poem of this remarkable collection. Divided into four sections, each addresses a different theme: “seeds,” of families; “soils,” of our vulnerable earth; “vines,” of the ties that bind—both nurturing and stifling; and “skies,” about the poetic imperative. In her final poem, “For the Eyes of God and Birds,” the poet tells us, “If tomorrow my words/get swallowed up in darkness/I will still, write a poem.” Believe her. This poet, honest and brave, will continue to ring her vibrant truth. 

–Jean P. Moore, award-winning novelist and poet. Her chapbook, Time’s Tyranny, was nominated for the 2018 Massachusetts Book Award.

. . .

Christina Ward’s poetry can take mundane observations and transform them into larger life metaphors. She has a keen observation and knowledge of nature, expressed beautifully in much of her poetry. Interlaced with flights into historical fantasy on occasion, all of Christina’s poems are teachers in unique ways.  I highly recommend organic  for anyone with an interest in poetry, nature and the unfolding drama of life.

–Randy Shingler, poet, essayist and author of the poetry collection, Tranquil Freedom.

Thank you to all of those who have already ordered their copies!

Christina~

Misunderstood (i have been a flower in a tree)

a free verse poem

Image by Kranich17 from Pixabay


i have been a flower in a tree.
i have been so high up, no one could see
the immeasurable me, the impetuous me

the always, always superfluous me

this is what happens
when a tree has its leaves 
on upside down, when the roots don’t grow
underground

and the rain goes up instead of down

the birds fall dizzied from their skies.
gumballs float and swirl and helix themselves
right up and into me

can’t you see? i did not ask
to be me — to spend my life
among the bees

i have been a core and colorful whore,
a generous whorl of magenta
lace and edge — 
i reach downward towards sky

On a Sunday Visit


Christina Ward 💗 is a poet and nature writer. If you enjoyed this spoken word poem you may also enjoy some of her other works (with audio) such as: For the Eyes of God and Birds (with audio) and On a Sunday Visit (with audio.)

Delay of Autumn

a free verse poem of the season

Image by Gerald Friedrich from Pixabay

Delay of Autumn

The Autumn wreath
with plastic apples
aged pine cones
resides in closeted bin

Temperatures dip
days shorten
signaling yellows,
deep reds, bursts of orange
the ushering in of
pumpkin — everything
not this year

the corn has been cut
husk-less stalks, sparse, dried
scatter the field in muted gold

this year the heat hangs long
the soils ache with thirst
the hickory tree drops her limbs
large, green ones
too brittle, they splinter
and fall away —
like bones breaking
that sound

poison ivy yellows, withers, dries
the greens fading to brown,
no vibrancy of Autumn,
summer lingers, decays

I’ll hang the wreath
another day.
When Autumn comes
will it be as a swift breath —

with Winter on her heels
raging in white?


Christina Ward 🌼 is a poet and nature writer from North Carolina, where this year it is in the upper 80s and low 90s at the end of September. We haven’t had rain for weeks.

Stay in touch! ~*~ Fiddleheads & Floss Poetry ~*~ Follow me on Twitter!

This poem was originally published by Weeds & Wildflowers publication of Medium.

Weeds & Wildflowers
https://medium.com/weeds-wildflowers/delay-of-autumn-33fcf363fd44

Epiphany– a free verse poem on the creative process

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

Epiphany

I can attach my entire existence
to the golden bleed of sun
through the whisp-staccato
edges of a cloud

Such moments steal my breath.

I can spiral into corners
and come out of them
painting with words.

I can feel the energy
flowing from life breathing life
paralleling, combining, releasing.

Epiphany moments, what hides
in plain sight, screaming
“mental illness” at the world —
are simply the inner workings
of a poet.

How many have suffered
without knowing
how to hone illness to craft?

The poets, the writers, the painters
the builders, the sculptors, the dreamers —
the artists — art underway, swimming thoughts
in color and form, rising up
— rising up into birth, rebirth
— intrinsic beauty.

Let the cells within me
shift and fold into
that burning, golden
sun.


Christina Ward 🌼 is a poet, columnist, and nature writer from North Carolina. Stay in touch!

You can follow her poetry at Fiddleheads & Floss Poetry.

On the Outskirts of the Blue Ridge

a poem about an afternoon drive through the beautiful foothills of the N.C. mountains

Image by Christian B. from Pixabay

Hilltop mobile homes
parked in rows with
weary cars and tufts
of unruly grass.
They are weathered,
as am I.
Collections of scrap-metal,
small gardens boasting
late tomatoes, plump
red flashes on the vine.
Corn fields in thick
mounds that hug the earth.
Bovine fields gathered in fences.

Each blind bend in the road
is a new thing of some old things
to see, to let my eyes and soul
linger there in possibility.
Wouldn’t it be nice to
live here in this quiet
gathering of apple orchards
and tender rolling hills
that reach here and there
to the sky?—the way that mountains do.

The clouds move in thick
syrupy drifts over the peaks
rolling carelessly down each
curve, making a tender crawl
to the valleys before the trees
swallow their mists. Everything
moves slower here.

Christmas tree farms dot the steep
embankments, sloping up toward sky.
A mountain stream appears
and winds the same path as we—
it moves silently, adrift a stony path
alongside the road, carrying
inner-tubers, canoeists, brightly-colored
Saturday fun in the cool waters
of Blue Ridge. Everything
moves slower here, as do we.

Christina Ward is a nature writer and poet from North Carolina. Stay in touch!

Excavating a Poem

a free verse poem celebrating the process

Image by Stefan Keller from Pixabay

Excavating a Poem

Some, a breath
exhaled slowly
into life-giving words.

Some, an excavation
with bristles firm,
then soft and careful.

Some, roots
gnarled and half-buried
we trip over them
and follow them to trees.

Some, grains of sand
to be gathered and shaped
into delicate mounds
washed into the sea.

We gather. We excavate.
We dig and we build.

We are careful to use
the right tools, the right angles
the carved-out landscapes
of metaphor and dream.

We speak for them, but they
are our teachers.


To all my fellow poets out there digging deep, finding the breath to breathe life into your poetry, or just listening to your poems until they speak themselves to you…it is a gift to be their voice.Embrace it. Be mindful. Always seek. Always listen.

Christina Ward
:::i paint with words:::

the skin i am in

a free-verse poem, “Human Prompt”

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

The following poem entitled “the skin i am in” was written in response to Medium’s Human Parts weekend prompt and is published here: https://medium.com/@fnfwriter/the-skin-i-am-in-93fc77d6ba7b?source=friends_link&sk=6d40596a9ef6f7ebf0846cefc782ae46

the skin i am in

watery womb
my cells gather
wrapped in the skin
i’d be born in
wrinkled, noisy
erupting into air


concrete burning
tiny feet running
june bugs darting
in the air of summer
the cool plunge
tippy-toed in water
splashing with daddy


mosquito bitten legs
scratching, blood rising in spots
stop picking, stop scratching momma said


school scares me, i think
the doors are so heavy, the kids are so loud
they don’t like my hair
i pick at that spot on my scalp
i stick my finger in the open wound
blood has a funny smell

stop picking momma said

i waited for someone else to open the doors
and slipped between before they closed

i don’t like the playground
i want to go home


the boys don’t pay much attention to a girl with unruly hair
and bad skin…i pick myself raw, then cover it up again

i can’t seem to bear this thing i am in, the calories adding up as they do

tonight i’ll add them all up


my baby is the most beautiful thing, tiny mouth to breast and i feel 
the tug of motherhood drawing me cell by cell toward purpose

i have to eat
i have to eat
i try to eat

my bones feel so thin

but this baby! oh this baby!


momma… you need this stuff for acne. i saw it on the tv.
yes baby, i think that would help my skin,

thank you, son


the skin i am in. the grandmother skin that i am in
scarred, imperfect. mine.
meals cooked. eaten. no counting.

a graveyard of skin-creams
the skin i am in
i love

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