Melba Christie at Poemattic

Poetry and Art for the Soul

Getting the Most from Yourself

Cherry Blossoms

If you know yourself well

then you need not read any further

You probably know

how to get the most from yourself.

No one should be allowed to get more than you do

Getting the most from yourself

requires for you

to have frequent conversations with yourself

Really learn about what you want

make sure your inner compass is fine tuned

so that you are going in the right direction

at least most of the time

but do not be afraid to ask for directions

Replenish your stamina

know your limits

don’t disappoint yourself

don’t be your worst enemy

Be still and in the present

remember the saying,

“tomorrow’s another day”

Make it your mantra

Dance the dance

Sing the song

Relish the moments that count

Love, Love, Love



sending yourself a note

about the things

you actually accomplished TODAY!

Live your life without regrets

you may make mistakes

along the way

but be the camera in your life

do a retake and crop out what

you do not need in your life

Keep yourself healthy

Heal yourself everyday

by getting rid of the thoughts

that make you someone else.

Do not be anyone

you do not want to be

you have the power

to attract the best

Practice makes perfect

only you can get the most

and the best from yourself

Quotes that could have been poems


Photo by Melba Christie   (c) 2012


Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in this life has a purpose.”

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross


“I merely took the energy it takes to pout and wrote some blues.”

Duke Ellington


“If you are yourself at peace, then there is at least some peace in the world. Then share your peace with everyone, and everyone will be at peace.”        –Thomas Merton


“I am very happy, very enchanted … for  I am surrounded here by everything I love… My desire would be to stay just like this forever, in a quiet corner of nature. –Claude Monet


“Just living is not enough,” said the butterfly. “One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.”  –Hans Christian Anderson





What siege of our minds is this?

Fear infused with every megabyte of information

transmitted over every device imaginable

because we need to be connected to the surreal of our lives


Barriers block our logic

Our emotions cordoned off from our hearts

with yellow ribbons directing us to

“Do Not Cross”

might as well be bloody red

confirming our reality

“We Cannot Live in Peace”

Cause craziness prevails


Our ability to understand restricted

Check points drain our energy

Lives changed forever

childhood lost.


What siege of our minds is this?





A Poem in Your Pocket Day sponsors Poem in You Pocket Day (which was celebrated today) and which offers a wide variety of poems to use for the celebration of the day. Someone surprised me today with a beautiful poem she had written about the latest acts violence and terror  that caused chaos in the city of Boston. She did want me to post it but the truth is that the poem was written with her heart. To those of you who read a poem to someone today I applaud you. Here is a poem I wrote:

A muse lives in the silence of a busy mind

where dreams connect to each other

and daffodils dance

a centipede relaxes and kicks off its shoes

to listen to the hummingbird  who seemed amused

A muse lives in the silence of a busy mind

and eavesdrops in on a conversation with itself

where there is talk of rebellion

just because.

and it decides instead to go to bed.

Melba Christie



By definition

marathon was

“A village and plain of ancient Greece

northeast of Athens.

It was the site

of a major Athenian victory

over the Persians in 490 b.c.”


It is also means the test

of endurance

and great strength.

The latter meaning

can be applied 

to the tragedy

in Boston.


The crowd was deep on

the city’s streets

with Blue skies above

Everyone filled with great expectations

as the  runners sprinted  hard

to reach their final destination.


Not one of them would have dreamed

that as fate would have it

chaos, confusion and commotion

would disrupt the harmony

and extend such agony

and grieve

to a great New England town.


One child’s heart beat faster

in anticipation of watching

his dad cross the finish line.

Now he’s in heaven

meeting the Divine.


So many more,

some of  whom had never been

to Boston before

met a fate not commissioned.


A marathon it will be for all of us


most certainly

the longest run on faith

for years to come.



We must stand united

to build our stamina,

for the Marathon ahead

and help to heal our

broken hearts

and finish gloriously

putting mind over matter,

body and soul.

Let us go

the distance for peace.

Let us go the distance for non-violence.

Let us go the distance with faith.


God Bless all the victims of the Boston Marathon.







I should have been an opera singer

I should have been an opera singer,

like my daddy said

I should have been an opera singer,

but now I am a poet instead


Don’t get me wrong I could hit

those high notes as high

as any of the best

but to write a poem a day

has been the greatest test.


I love Nessum Dorma

Pavarotti’s version though

it always makes me cry

perhaps it is

because I know

the meaning of the word Vincerò!


I really should have been an opera singer

like my daddy said

but I decided to be a poet instead

and by the way a teacher too.


Poetry is a beautiful thing

Poetry is life.

I try to make my words mean something

and sometimes when I am lucky

the right words come in

so I hope someone to motivate

somebody to grab their Gibson guitar

and make the words just sing.


I could have been an opera singer,

like my daddy said

but I want to write poems

for the rest of my life instead.


So the next time

you hear my favorite aria

“Nessum Dorma”

you might just think of me

and what I was supposed to be.


I could have been an opera singer

like my daddy said

but I chose to be a poet instead

and I hope I am a good one

and get into your head.





National Poetry Month: Web 2.0 Poetry ~ Mixbook

Another interesting resource.



One tool that I loved using with my students was Mixbook. While there are many uses of mixbook, one of my mixbookfavorite was creating Poetry Books.

What I loved about this tool was that students could completely personalize their books. They have the ability to add text, pictures, backgrounds, and “stickers”. I gave my students several options for adding illustrations to represent their poems. They could take their own pictures that represented their poem,  draw their own, or they could find them on the internet. If they drew their own pictures, I scanned them and uploaded them as jpgs. I also had a student who wrote a shape poem, so we were able to scan that in and incorporate it as well.


Mixbooks can be embedded in class websites and a link can be emailed. Once parents have the link, they can order hard copies of their…

View original post 65 more words

National Poetry Month: Web 2.0 Poetry~ Voki

Check out this resource.



Another Web 2.0 tool that can be used to share poetry is Voki. Voki allows students to create an avatar, chose a background, and record their voice(or use a computer generated voice). This is a great compromise when you are not able to post videos of your students to the internet.

Here are some ideas to try for Poetry Month: 

  • Have student chose a favorite poem and recite it. This allows students to practice fluency and gives them a creative option to share their favorite poem. Voki is asking people to submit their favorite poems in Voki form in honor of National Poetry Month. You can even find examples on their post
  • Chose a historical character and write a poem from their point of view explaining an event in history.
  • Have students chose their favorite form of poetry and record a Voki, then have their classmates listen to…

View original post 107 more words

Will We Be Ready?

the falls

Essential question:

Will we be ready?

Ready for what?

To be who we are supposed to be.


What do you mean?

I am who I am.

I am who I am supposed to be.


We are suppose to be

a seed,

to breed love


We are suppose to be

a dance,

choreographed with perfect

movements, creating

expressions of

deep empathy, and

the essence of what

life is all about.

We are supposed to be

a soothing song of springtime.

We are supposed to be the composer

who delves deep into our hearts

to help us find our very own arias

and makes us listen closely to the beats

that mark our time on this earth.

Internal Question:

Wow! Will I be ready?


You bet!



A Find in the Attic

Letter Box


As I rummaged through boxes in my attic, as I do every spring, my goal each year is to clear out as much as possible. But somehow I end up keeping most of the things. It is always like a journey into my past and many of the things I keep there have sentimental value.

I came across a small cushioned wooden box. I was intrigued because I had forgotten what I had put inside the box. When I opened it I found my late nephew’s letters written to me so many years ago. I cried. I unfolded the first piece which did not have a date on it. I read; I cried and later on, I found the envelope folded away at the bottom of the box. The date stamped on it was March 19, 1974. I cried again. The letter was prophetic. As they say hind sight is always 20/20. I was pregnant with my first child at the time. So I must have been just as emotional when I read it the first time. I never would have imagined that the letters would be the last conversations we had with each other. Our letters were long conversations. It was too expensive to communicate by telephone and so we wrote to each other quite often. I miss letter writing. We talked about nature, music, politics, human suffering and the future. He was sensitive to what was happening around him as he was stationed in the army as a paramedic. He hated injustice and violence. He often wrote songs about it. He played the guitar without ever having taken a class in his life. He had a beautiful soul.

Although he was my nephew and logic dictates that I as his aunt would have been a lot older than he, I was just two years older. We were more like siblings. So, we shared many things and our favorite topic was poetry. He was very creative and loved to write poems too. In his letters he always included a short poem and in the closing of the letter he would write, ” I will keep writing them as long as you keep reading them.”  I hope he knows that I have never forgotten his poems.

I want to share a small snippet of what he wrote in this particular letter. Here it is:

“Your dreams are yours alone

and creative thoughts become

your energy and life are prolonged

through words spoken and unspoken

so dream on

and you will be eternal

in someone’s life.”

I will end this post with a Forrest Gumpism: “And that’s all I have to say about that.”





when I think of oneness

my mind conjures up

all sorts of images and words to describe  it


only one,

not two,

only you,



just me,

just you,

one spirit,

the universe,

the whole,

but also a  part of the whole,

all of us somehow connected.



one being,

or even not being,

only one life,

only one death.


all things derived from one

1  x 1 equals one

all that is equivalent to one

my spirit

my soul,

my heart,

a single seed,

are all a part of my oneness.



we must all be

a part of the oneness.









Brett Kristian

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