For Christina May Shanaberg. Can’t forget the kind Poets who are missed.


Christina May Shanaberg left  our world 8 June 2012. She was a friendly voice and friend on Writer Cafe. These are her poetry. We must allow her words to live so she will not be forgotten. I can’t ask for permission. Her face and name came to be lately.

My Life Has No Street

A Poem by Christina May Shanaberg


For the Homeless! 


All streets are dead ends,

When you have no friends;

I just want a slice of hope

Or someone to help me cope.

I might have fallen away

From whom I was, yesterday;

Not knowing where to begin

Or, even, I can be alive again.

Can you see me, at all,

Or have I become so small;

My life has no street,

Just the alley of defeat.

Two Prints in the Snow

I turn to look at the two prints I, just, made;

Were they the first, at this spot, to be laid;

Am I seeing a perspective that none have known;

Knowing solitude, but never feeling alone.

Could this be virgin ground where I had stood,

Wondering about what is wrong with the world;

Then, I understand the meaning of each print,

‘Cause they are steps toward where I am meant.

I have learned much from people, along the way,

And respect every word that they are trying to say;

I’m sure, my friend, I am the first from these parts

To have stood on that ground with you in my heart.

 Merry Christmas, Bill, 

 and joy and comfort,





 Ayarinarqe Ak’allar(aq)

 Nalik Uilingiataq

 (Desirable Old Tent


© 2011 Christina May Shanaberg

© 2011 Christina May Shanaberg

My Son Lost the War

You returned my son broken;

A young, sad war token;

What was my baby fighting to win;

Just a chance to see his mother again?!

Was it all about your oil;

Was grease your victory’s spoil;

My son watched his friends die

And all the nation wonders why.

Our country is not mad at anyone,

Unless it is you, Mr. President;

You try to spread your war like the flu,

However, we know what is your intent.

Leave our sons alone, I say;

They don’t want to take lives away;

My son is baffled in dismay,

Wondering what he fought for, anyway.


Can you give my baby back

Or, as a President, do you lack

To stand by whom carry the sore

Of your ridiculous, political war?!

 © 2011 Christina May Shanaberg

Christina had a hard life. She stood tall and brave. You can track back to her words by touchingPoems by Christina May Shanaberg.

When we read the words of a missed friend and writer. We bring them back to life. I remember you Christina. One day we will meet again. Drink coffee and discuss the mystery of life.