Christa Chatfield

Young and energetic, Christa Chatfield's poems have a certain drive. She presents them with a combination of matter-of-factness and push to get the words delivered to the ears of her audience. With a little humor and a few rough edges, her work has the flavor of a self aware woman who knows when to stand back a bit and tilt her head to the side for a new slant on her perspective.

It is a distinct possibility that I have intimidated every man I have
met since the age of 12
by truly knowing more about everything that matters in life.

It is a distinct possibility my heart just isn't in it this time and I
am just going through
the motions of feeling and straining for understanding of life and I'm
just drinking green tea
cause I like how it tastes.

It is a distinct possibility I am a super hero with the power to read
all of your minds and please
stop making your grocery list and composing nasty love letters and
daydreaming of double rich dark chocolate cake.
I don't care to hear about it all.

It is a distinct possibility winter won't end and it's crappy silence
and mess and just plain fuckin coldness
won't every dissipate from within me because it's been so far
ingrained into my body the sun can't get to it.

It is a distinct possibility that the guilt I feel for, at the age of
8, forgetting I had let out our dog Max
so he got hit by a car and some nice folks called us to pick him up on
the side of the road and he was still alive
so I sat next to him in the back seat for the drive to the vet while
he whimpered at me with sad eyes
and died 2 days later that guilt still gets me bleary and won't ever
go away, no matter how much I preyed to Jesus for forgiveness
at Sunday school.

It is a distinct possibility I will never read this poem out loud.
It is a distinct possibility that the movie 'the matrix' is true, and
that love is a cruel trick
being played on us by the machines.

It is a distinct possibility most people don't really understand that
art is in everyone,
and you don't need the approval of others to be good at it, and just
cause some art costs more than my 1997 mocha 4-door ford escort wagon
doesn't make it good at all.

Actually, it is a distinct possibility that the approval of others
isn't worth shitte,
all that matters is your approval of yourself,
and I ask pointedly,
are you who you meant to be?
Am I who I mean to be&am I who I am meant to be

It is a distinct possibility that all things considered in the grand
scheme of life
in god's greater plan in the context of good and evil not withstanding
and with little doubt in my mind
the jury's still out on whether the blind man may see the truth, if
satan's still got free reign
and whether angels speak with an accent like rhoma downy or have as
many freckles as matt damon.

It is, therefore at this point that I can conclude obviously, as you
all can see now, and I'm sure its crystal clear
to you so go home and share with your loved ones that my faith can't
heal all my pain,
no matter how hard I wish it could so in place of sobbing in sorrow or
loneliness or confusion
I will try singing in the shower and a little chamomile tea to heal

It is a distinct possibility I can easily believe in the power of my
god when the sun is shining
and it's 75, and all my dishes are clean.

'This certifies that you have had a personal encounter
with me, and that you found me warm, polite,
intelligent, and funny'
--Steve Martin

This certifies you sat and listened to my poetry
and you found it realistic, emotional, moving and entertaining.

This certifies you saw those Gap commercials
and found them artistic, deep, modern and catchy.

This certifies you voted for whom you believed in,
and found out most other people
believed in something much different, strange, stupid and offensive.

This certifies you loved your first love with all the heart you had, only later to find they weren't as dedicated to truth, beauty, honesty and forever. This certifies you've just had a cup of coffee and a piece of cake and found them tasty, well prepared, reasonably priced and satisfying. This certifies you have spent your life trying to be something, only to arrive at your new job and find it dry, boring, mundane and underpaid. This certifies you went to church faithfully for 20 years and still find it hard to believe in sin, resurrection, absolute truth, and the sacred texts. This certifies you are capable of pouring your heart and soul into life pouring being and thinking into poetry and you find life and poems to be wondrous, torturous, hilarious and fantastic. This certifies that, for you, the line between wild and domestic isn't straight or clean, and clearly many others have willingly crossed it many times, with little or no penalty.

This certifies I'm tired
This certifies I'm an artist
This certifies you can be ugly if you try hard enough,
but usually stumble into beauty, frustrating the rest of us to no end.

This certifies it is easy to wear out words,
Say the word 'what'
Over and over and it will lose all meaning
Dissolving into phonics
Say the word 'end' over and over
And it will lose all meaning.
Dissipating into nonsense.
Say the word 'saved' over and over
And it will lose all meaning.

This collection was posted here in October 2002.

All poetry and other artistic writings are their authors and reproduced here with their permission.

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