a94eab32493e98433b6bc632dbfeb53bPoet. Flirt. Poetic Flirt.

View my listing in the Poets and Writers Directory of Writers.

Visit my author page on Amazon.

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My interview with W.I.S.H. press, July 20, 2016:

Q~Can you tell us a little bit about yourself? At what age did you start writing? Have you always written poetry? Who/what first inspired you to start writing? Who are your favorite poets?

A~I’m 36 and last year I eloped in Las Vegas (thank you Supreme Court!!). I’m a poet and lover of all things animal, artistic and pharmaceutical. I’ve attempted poetry most of my life, and started sending out submissions five years ago. My Gramma always encouraged any creative endeavor. In her last letter before her death, she told me to keep writing poems. That’s all it took. My favorite poets are Adrienne Rich and Jim Morrison, for very different reasons.

Q~How do you first start writing a poem? Does it come to you out of the blue, or do you have a set time where you meet with your Muse each day and let the words just … come? Has your idea of what poetry is changed since you began writing poetry?

A~My poems just kind of reveal themselves to me. When they are ready to rise, so am I. I can go for a month or two without writing. Poetic camel, I guess. My idea of poetry is constantly evolving, which definitely keeps me motivated to change with it.

Q~Are you on Facebook or Twitter or any other social media? Does that fit into your writing life, and if so, how? 

A~I am on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. The first thing I like about connecting with other poets is the ‘rejection camaraderie’ we share. I see that rock star poets I admire and respect get the same form emails and ‘best wishes’ I get, too. Secondly, it’s a good place to find submission opportunities.

Q~What words of encouragement can you offer other poets who are trying to get their work noticed?

A~My advice to any struggling poet is just to remember we are all struggling poets. That’s it.


one person, one hundred perceptions
or maybe I’m one hundred people
casting a single shadow
only glimpsing my own transparency
in a puddle of black ink

When I’m not performing a strip-tease
on blushing paper
I’m dropping acid and milling through a labyrinth
of fun house mirrors
trying to guess the riddle from the answer

I am the fangs and soft under-belly of a tiger
I prowl, I stroll
through jungles and studio apartments
I am an angel with track marks
pawning my halo to fund my habit

I find comfort in your similar confusion
we are all at odds with ourselves
and only in death do we break even
only in death does the compass stop spinning
assemble my manual of words

Discover my black box, the still truth
and then record your own.

first appeared in NOUS 2015

Shannon Steimel, webmistress.




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