Anita's Haven

books, thoughts, stories, poetry, interviews, writing

Meet Anais Chartschenko

on 31/03/2017

Here is a chance to meet a new author, both of books and music – ANAIS CHARTSCHENKO! Stepping out of our comfort zone is a challenge, and this lady faces it in her unique way.


Anaïs Chartschenko hails from the Canadian wilderness. She has come to enjoy such modern things as electric tea kettles. Her published works include two collections of poetry, Bright Needles and The Whisper Collector as well as a novel in verse, The Weightless One. 

Excerpt from The Weightless One

Reasons I Have To Stay

I was signed in, 

I have no choice.

They tell me 

My heart is failing.

They tell me

When you starve 

Long enough, your body

Starts to eat your muscles.

Your heart is a muscle. It becomes

Your unwilling dinner. 

They show me charts with

Low iron, low this and low that.

They tell me I need to take this


But it doesn’t seem real.

All that is real is my sudden

Total lack of control, total

Forced surrender, it feels 

So broken it can never be


I can’t agree to any of these

Things. Not even when I 

Feel my heart forget a beat.

Not even when I’m hooked

To machines. 

Reasons I Should Get To Leave

I don’t count calories.

I don’t weigh myself.

I don’t obsess over models.

I don’t exercise.

I don’t take laxatives or


I don’t make myself

Throw up. 

I don’t care what you think.

I think for myself.

I’m not this, I still have

My period. 


Little Fish

We lay in a tight row

Like sardines, 

Wrapped tight in

Blankets and thick

Fuzzy pajamas

Getting our blood 

Pressure checked

Lay down, and close

My eyes to the other

Girls’ gossip, they

Try to include me,

But I have nothing

To say in the morning

This is a strange torment,

Laying so close to the others

Trapped between laughter

And the talk of having to

Drink ensures or not,

Of having to go to an

Increased nutrition plan,

Of family therapy sessions

Coming at the end of the 


Kara began

Pulling out 

Her hair


Bundles of 

Blonde lay 

On the floor,

Her lion mane

Alopecia found

“I’m sick of

 The lies!”  She

Twisted her

Face up her

Hands knotted

In hair

“Where did this

Come from?

I didn’t grow it!”

We watched 

In horror

We watched

Unable to

Look away

From her


Underneath she

Was so small

Like a fragile glass


Her features too

Large for her head

Her hair was only

A few inches long

Thin dirty dishwater

Blonde strands like

Weeds dried out 

In the sun

She smiled

She laughed

She burrowed

Her face in 

Borrowed hair




The Weightless One

The Whisper Collector

Bright Needles


Howling at the Moon: Live from my Living Room


Social Media Links

Youtube     Facebook     Twitter      Website

Goodreads       Instagram      Amazon Page


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