i tripped and fell
but as i fell
i invited everything
i’d like to write
a poem for people
who never read poems
it would be hard
it would have to have
legs to jump up and down
and little arms to wave
to get their attention
but first it would have to
sneak into their house
you’ll sit sometimes
whether god ever had
any plan for you
when you swore
at one point he did
but now any plan seems
which of course
is part of the plan
he never had for you
The Science Spell
Essays on Why Science Can Coexist
Advice for Me
and Maybe You
Free this Morning
The Truth Cannot Be Told in Prose
It Takes 101 Haiku
The Morning I Married the Sky
Speaking for a
Natural, Intelligent, Outlandish Faith
From Amazon Reviews of
Chris has an eye, and an ear for the sights and sounds the world makes, those that often slip past. He stays attuned for the rest of us. And he communicates the music that is found there, and gives us his clear-eyed (and sharply heard) translations of what most of us let disappear before it even gets here, to where we are. Necessary poems.
Loved this book, soulful and wistful and whimsical... Without an ounce of drama or soppiness. No negativity or torment either. Just Chris's own unique view...he really 'sees' the world and his place in it... He imparts an element of contentment to me as I read. Great for those moments of respite, where one sinks into their favorite seat, with a steaming mug on the table next to them. I first bought the Kindle edition, but then decided that the electronic gadget did no justice to the emotional content of the book, so I also bought the hard copy. My only regret is that I could not leave two reviews! More please! '
re-reading these poems is like... sharing a cup of coffee with an old friend in a coffee shop. Dingman's humor, insight, and open-hearted acceptance of the world in all its wonder provides a refreshing pause to a day. read his poems. then reread them.enjoy the dance.
Chris Spark is a recently adopted pen name.
You'll find some of my past work under my given name, Chris Dingman.
a little more about me
My official writing career began in college where I wrote humor for The Harvard Lampoon. As graduation loomed and I looked intently within, poetry also began emerging. But it felt too irreverent and strange for me to show the world. After college, I went on to wear the worldly hats of science and math teacher, comedy screenwriter, and singer-songwriter.
Around 2010, though, I started missing that old irreverent strangeness. So I tried a new approach to creativity. I wanted to see what would happen if I didn’t have any expectations. I set aside time in the morning to sit with coffee, a notebook, a view out a window, and complete permission. I could write anything or nothing at all.
That’s when more poems emerged. They were perhaps a little less strange, but they were also more tender. And they were, often enough, still irreverent. They felt like sparks thrown from a way of seeing and being that I had been unofficially cultivating through psychotherapy, an eclectic reading list, journal writing, meditation, and just plain living. I try to describe that way of seeing and being in prose in my philosophical essays.
Bells & Whistles
I graduated from Harvard, summa cum laude with a BA in Biology, in 1987. Since then I’ve optioned a comedy screenplay to Warner Bros., done other writing work for Hollywood, released three CDs of original songs while gigging with the band Crooked Roads, and published several books of poetry and philosophical non-fiction. One of my Lampoon pieces was recently included alongside those of John Updike and Conan O’Brien in The Best of the Harvard Lampoon: 140 Years of American Humor. One of my poetry books, Advice for Me and Maybe You, was the eleventh best-selling book overall at The Depot Bookstore in Mill Valley, CA (until it closed for renovation). I’m a contributor to The American Bystander, which Newsweek called “the last great humor magazine.”
The feeling that life is mundane is nothing but a spell we sometimes fall under.
I can help you break the spell. Twice a week, anyway. The other days, it's up to you.
My bi-weekly poems—and photographs and poems married with photographs—are meant to knock out walls, take you on left turns, and generally remind you of things you've gotten too busy to remember you know.
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You'll get poems from previous collections and also ones that just fell off the turnip truck.