Chantal Christie Weiss
Bio
I serve memories and give myself up as a conduit for creativity.
My self-published poetry book: In Search of My Soul. Available via Amazon
Tip link: https://www.paypal.me/drweissy
Chantal, Spiritual Bad/Ass
England, UK
Stories (100)
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Look, Mummy, There’s an Aeroplane up in the Sky
“Throughout his life, Albert Einstein would retain the intuition and the awe of a child. He never lost his sense of wonder at the magic of nature's phenomena-magnetic fields, gravity, inertia, acceleration, light beams-which grown-ups find so commonplace. He retained the ability to hold two thoughts in his mind simultaneously, to be puzzled when they conflicted, and to marvel when he could smell an underlying unity. "People like you and me never grow old," he wrote a friend later in life. "We never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.” ― Walter Isaacson
By Chantal Christie Weiss24 days ago in Poets
The Reality of the Illusion of Time
Recently, as I strolled along the short stretch to my strength training session, I aimlessly took in the row of tatty shops and shabby buildings along the route and passed an off-street, in which one of my sisters used to live, around thirteen years ago.
By Chantal Christie Weiss27 days ago in Earth
I Saw God Through the Kitchen Window
Cupping my fingers, I glide them across her trapezius and steadily up and along her neck, pushing in my thumb. I finish the move at the base of her skull. I rub with small, deep circles to soften the solidified fascia.
By Chantal Christie Weiss29 days ago in Humans
The Day My Writing Practice Took a Slight Detour
I feel fortunate in life to live just a couple of blocks up from the beach. The beach is my happy place. Some days, and even more so when the weather is beautiful, I will push myself to take a slow walk down and sit and practise some of my writing exercises. And when I say: push myself, I’m embarrassed this may come across as taking where I live for granted or even laziness. But truthfully, it’s more about my procrastination.
By Chantal Christie Weissabout a month ago in Writers
Stepping Out of the Shadow of My Beautiful Twin
I can’t remember how many times I have been almost ‘admired’, not for who I was, but for who I was related to. This admiration would be expressed in the style of the following examples, on finding out I was related to my twin brother:
By Chantal Christie Weissabout a month ago in Psyche
Flaying Façades. Top Story - January 2026.
Prose Poetry Unburdening a menagerie of ghosts exorcised my fragile, fumbling heart. I had told you of jet-black thoughts through intimate chronicles, and discombobulated perceptions ripped beyond the basal of my breasts.
By Chantal Christie Weiss2 months ago in Poets
My Father Wound Is the Size of a Melon
I’d bricked up the ache I had felt from my father’s lack of love or concern for me, a long time ago. I drank the pain away and morphed it into a sexy, vivacious, and fun-loving party lover. It’s true, I did lose days to heartache and hangovers, but that’s Yin and Yang, right?
By Chantal Christie Weiss2 months ago in Psyche
