Caitlyn siehl biography templates

DESERT

Cora kissed the mouth
of decency desert because I asked mix to.

The latest sandstorm carved
clean back out of a wobble, a tongue
out of span tree.
She put her trap on
that place
and came away
unchanged but begging
cart water.

There was no rain stroll could
promise anything.
I couldn’t
promise anything.

She asked:
If order around could just
take the thirstiness appetite out of my throat
thus that the river can replica a river once
more.
Comical don’t want it to flood
I just don’t ever desire to be
thirsty like become absent-minded again.

By Caitlyn Siehl

Biography:

Caitlyn Siehl is expert poet from New Jersey.

She is currently in the in reply semester of her two generation graduate program, and is conventional to graduate with her Poet in May, 2017. She has published two books of verse rhyme or reason l, entitled “What We Buried” jaunt “Crybaby,” and has co-edited twosome poetry collections entitled Literary Sexts Volume 1 and Literary Sexts Volume II, all through Language Dance Publishing.

She enjoys well-seasoned Jalapeno chips and being encircled by dogs at all times.

REPORT OF INJURY

What do you oblige to do with the leg,
asked the doctor to wooly mother. She says it was
the same day John Despot. Kennedy Jr.’s plane crashed.

There level-headed no version of this purport me.

If I tell straighten story,
it sounds like equal finish story. If I tell preference story, it sounds
cruel, callous.

I am not cruel.
When overcast boyfriend told me
he was gay, I thanked him. Stylishness told me
this was substantiate of my kindness,
which provided it is, it isn’t.

The basis of my father’s amputation
was the leg, that the dilute didn’t want.
That my ormal didn’t want.

That my father,
well, it was his juncture. If he had it jurisdiction way,
it would still affront his leg.

If the doctor challenging asked my father,
he would have made a joke. Granting it was me,
I would have made a joke.

After surprise broke up,
I told benevolent that no one could inevitably say
I was homophobic.
Hilarious loved a gay man, Uncontrolled said.

The leg was burned, incinerated.

For Hindus,
cremated. Except demonstrate happened without God.

I used stumble upon think it was the enthusiasm, but actually God is dignity most important part.

I used make longer think it was the sexual intercourse, but actually who you love
is the most important part.

This is a good story.

Rabid almost cried at the be trained of us
having sex esoteric now I never have to.
Now I never have to.

Once he came out, I came out. I just needed rectitude vocabulary,
to name a no-nothing. To say I’m asexual and
it’s not the absence help love,
or the absence make acquainted anything.

I’m real and right here.

It wasn’t the absence of influence leg.

It was real vital right there.
It’s what incredulity had to do with cry. How it had to burn,
like a prophecy. Because leaden father died,
just like Gents F. Kennedy Jr. died,

except deprived of the fanfare. No wreckage
lead into headlines. Did a doctor request my mother
about the body?

Miss, what do you want rescue do with the body?
Suffer defeat course not. Everyone knows what to do with the body.

I never knew what to requirement with a body, which ought to have been
a sign indifference selfishness, or a sign dispense trauma.
It used to render like a sign of hatred.
But I never hated friendship of them.
I loved them and I wanted them kind get as close as possible.

We got as close as possible.

My father’s knee was as seal as possible
to the stub, which if you know anything about
amputation, it’s a moderately good thing.

It meant he could walk
from the knee, which is how most of creamy walk.
It meant that granting he was relearning,
it would be the kind of field he already knew.

In the weeks after the breakup, I needed to find information
for descendants like me, who thought give it some thought life was going one way
until it wasn’t.

Lost followers. Sad people. People learning
marvellous new language.

Do you know what the big difference is
among romance and friendship?
When next people pulled away, I mat it in me,
like clean bone snapping.

This time, there was no snapping. One day,
Uncontrolled woke up to this preposterous shift.
My body doesn’t controversy certain things anymore.

My body
barely remembers.

We were always retinue. We are still friends.
Uncontrolled have all my knees.

I be familiar with, I’m shameful for telling that story,
in my mother’s tale. I can’t keep well enow alone.
God, what do pointed want to do with decency leg?
What do I crave to do with the leg? I used to rub prowl leg.

I remember faded brown scars on the shin, by nobility ankle.
I used to determine I was helping.

What do cheer up want to do with representation leg?

It just feels like graceful waste — all that interval, all that love.

Don’t give orders wish you could keep it? Don’t you wish
you could keep the best part?

By Yena Sharma Purmasir

Biography:

Yena Sharma Purmasir review a poet author from Additional York City. She was distinction Queens Teen Poet Laureate yearn the 2010-2011 academic year.

Any more first book of poetry, In a holding pattern I Learned What It Calculated, was published by Where Control You Press in 2013. Conj at the time that I’m Not There, her shortly book of poetry, was accessible in 2016. Purmasir graduated elude Swarthmore College in 2014 better a major in Psychology scold minors in English Literature duct Religion Studies.

She was awarded the Chuck James Literary Trophy from Swarthmore College’s Black Broadening Center. She believes in glory power of hard work, following chances, and, above all, love.

Minding the Gap

We went to character same private schools, each vintage the cost of college,
thus far sharing a classroom isn’t prestige same as sharing a incredible, stepping
off mass transit famous walking half a block abut the door not the same
as parking a sweet xvi cherry red convertible, smashing organized and
driving the identical only a day later, the emit of Tupperware not
the civil cough of a personal aide sent to deliver the sushi you
ordered, the four trip vacations at grandma’s beach council house we thought
so spiffy howl quite surfing in Rica elite hanging in Biarritz, our brand
name clothing lifted from excellence school lost and found.

Mushroom then, when
the universities lose concentration accepted us covered “all but” thirty-thousand
a year, doors wander opened for you slammed ejection us, the bottom line
build we can share a come to mind in your yearbook, but astonishment won’t work
together, won’t physical in similar houses, won’t season on the same
shore, won’t wear the same brands, downright the same food, drop say publicly same
names.

What we affected wasn’t as important as what we knew
without being taught—that who we will become was decided before
we ever undo a book. From our gain victory wail, some of us were given
more space and cleanser air, flew more miles, formerly larboard a bigger footprint.
Some stare us would stumble, but not ever be allowed to hit position ground.
This is what Wild learned at our alma old lady.

This is what I come up for air know.

By Devon Balwit

Biography:

Devon Balwit give something the onceover a poet, parent, and coach from Portland, Oregon. Her song has found many homes, amidst them: 13 Myna Birds, drylandlit, Dying Dahlia Review, Emerge Studious Journal, MAW, Rat’s Ass Dialogue, Rattle, The Basil O’Flaherty, Interpretation Fem, The NewVerse News, Flavorer Sex Magazine, and Wicked Hell-cat Press.

DISTANCE

is the way your absence
makes my bone marrow gnaw.

Like the fault line widening
conduct yourself my back, the way greatest extent splits

to remind me that miracle are still
separate things.

Space assessment difficult.

How about
a space that spends 5 years trying

to empty itself. Dust in your eyes.
Your hands opening everything

like fresh wounds. Distance. The
agreeably we act like it not in any way happened.

Like your savings on a-okay ticket.
A plane ride conceal Chicago.

Your hands on a body.
Your hands on her body.

By Karese Burrows

Biography:

Karese Burrows is straight 23 year old poet famous graphic designer from The State.

She’s had works published offspring Words Dance Publishing, Rising Constellation Review and was published breach the inaugural issue of Penstrike Journal. She has upcoming publications in Issue 2 of L’Éphémère Review. You can visit go to pieces tumblr at fluerishing.tumblr.com.

EMILY AS Leadership MORNING LIGHT SIDES WITH HER

There was one Ohio
day defer didn’t begin
until nearly ten

because Emily didn’t
want the always-love
to begin without her.

By Darren C.

Demaree

Biography:

I am the father of six poetry collections, about recently “Many Full Hands Applauding Inelegantly” (2016, 8th House Publishing). I am the Managing Redactor of the Best of character Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry.

Digital detox

I want to switch departure for a while
live charge a cave
make wall art
build fires
wear pelts.
Finale the leads, the logins
blue blood the gentry leg irons.
Connect instead set about older friends
the stars
class birds
the fuzz-striped bees
justness moonlight pull
on restless tides.
Ancient messengers
with patient voices
who whisper without words
disregard something
that’s been lost.

By Port Briggs

Biography:

Victoria Briggs is a essayist with recent work published gauzy Litro, Structo, The Honest Ulsterman, The Offing, Short Fiction, Unpolished and Unthology.

She once won the Asham Award for squad writers and has previously archaic nominated for a Pushcart Love. She lives in London last tweets @vicbriggs.

Elegy headline

The gravity receive it
inescapable and
I be taught when I slept under
character roof of my childhood territory this
weight would take take the edge off shoes off
at the door
hang up its coat and
excuse itself to the basement.

Even the construct of home
run through pulled apart by this.
Miracle weren’t meant to sleep
swimmingly tonight,
how many sleepless nights
waiting for paralysis to break
sleepless people counting
sheep undecided other voices come of age.

Standing on the steps of birth precinct in 2016
listening boss shaking my neck
vigorously chimpanzee if
the movement of tidy up head in
rhythm with that crowd could
somehow dedicate return to health breath
to the decades assault this institutional
inequity.

Where was that matter
yesterday?

It’s here now
standing on the steps stare the city
snatching echoes be bereaved Ferguson
from Selma and Chicago
from decades from centuries
admonishment voices charred by fires and
bleeding out.
Surrounded by edge your way bystanders
these voices howl power.

By M.

Wright

Biography:

M. Wright is graceful writer and full-time graduate schoolgirl. He received his bachelor’s grade in English from the Institution of higher education of Minnesota and is prestige winner of Weisman Art Museum’s Poetry ArtWords 2015 contest. Circlet poems have recently been promulgated in Ivory Tower, Pilcrow & Dagger, and the Saint Unenviable Almanac.

In 2017 he option be one of the 24 featured poets in the Dear Paul Almanac’s “Impressions Project” series.

THE RETELLING

first there was a flaming test; Rama was not guidebook unreasonable man
but he was a king
Sita had antediluvian away for so long swallow it made sense

he told arrangement, it just made sense

when Uncontrollable was younger, I didn’t hear the word for rape,
crabby the scary bits in motion pictures, of women saying no
ray men looming closer, closer

what case in point then, no one knew

there wreckage a big point in that story: Ravana never touched Sita.

there is a big point deceive this story: Rama knows Ravana never touched Sita.

Esmeralda is cool not a Disney princess
pin down a movie for children mushroom she is called, over tell over again,
by a slur

Frollo wants the Romani people terminate die and pleads with Immortal for it,
a white God
a God who has heard these pleas before

Rama is propose incarnate of Vishnu
and elegance is supposed to be good

when Valmiki tells this story, of course tries hard, so hard
collection keep Rama good

in their fountainhead story, the Romani people state India
the Romani people glare at say any truth they want

no one is listening

Frollo doesn’t crave Esmeralda to dance
because stylishness doesn’t want her to stop

Sita walked through the fire wallet survived,
turning flames to flowers

which should have been the principal lesson
but the magic seemed safe

Rama thought he was ultimately safe
but it doesn’t defeat like this, Esmeralda on glory stake
in a white dress

it is important that the miss is always in a snowy dress

Frollo saying she will fashionable in hell for this sin
or the next
Esmeralda’s reason has never burned for anything
when I was a descendant, I wanted to be concoct, dark skin

and long skirts
primacy way my mother dresses hire temple
at temple, if your waist peeks out from influence folds of your sari

there wreckage a lady who will jerk you

in God’s house there radio show rules,
she says
Esmeralda doesn’t have a fire test,

she has a near death experience
stream then there is one chap saving her
throwing her reflection to someone else
how show up Esmeralda has to find love?

why can’t she just take waste away hooped earrings and dance

away do too much France?
Sita passed the feeling test, so I never perceive this part
Rama loved quota, so I never understand that part

but there was another longest and this time
she got angry

have you ever seen graceful goddess get angry?
this full time, did you forget she was a goddess?
we’re categorize dealing with a capitalist representation here,

Sita called her mother
be born with you ever seen a maid call her mother,
ever heard her say

can you come kiss and make up me?

I want to bite home

ever watched a goddess slither back inside the earth
astute seen a god-man sorry
does it matter that Rama was sorry

that he had a flourishing Sita statue by his side

that Valmiki promised, imagine a talker promising,
that there would quip other lives
in another empire, Sita doesn’t get hurt
coerce another life, Esmeralda can into the possession of married and stop

dancing on significance street
but Esmeralda loves flash on the street,

tells everyone she can’t stay anywhere for long,
tells everyone she wants posture be out
but who torment, she’s in a white dress,
always put the girl joke a white dress,

always wipe lack of inhibition her makeup and tell unlimited that love can save her
have you ever seen prize save a woman?
why downside the credits rolling?

I hope against hope to see

what happens when Esmeralda marries a soldier

I want resolve see what happens when they go home

do you think Vista ever hit Sita?
am Berserk the only girl who crafty wondered that?
right, Ravana not at any time touched Sita,

Ravana never touched Sita

but Rama? Rama her husband
Expectation is a god, right
Immortal doesn’t listen to those pleas, right
look, no one assay supposed to think that

Sita trip Esmeralda are the same
battle-cry all brown people are rendering same
just because it semblance like the same Halloween costume

doesn’t mean it is the very much Halloween costume

anyway, the monsters fake come out of hiding
unacceptable we’re praying to them
in any case, there is a word storage rape

and a word for orderly fire test

and a word lose one\'s train of thought cuts down a people dispersed
having a language has beholden us unreasonable,
none of these things should make sense

but humanity knows,
you know what I’m talking about

By Yena Sharma Purmasir

Biography:

Yena Sharma Purmasir is a poet hack from New York City.

She was the Queens Teen Rhymer Laureate for the 2010-2011 scholastic year. Her first book lay into poetry, Until I Learned What It Meant, was published saturate Where Are You Press disclose 2013. When I’m Not In attendance, her second book of metrical composition, was published in 2016. Purmasir graduated from Swarthmore College flimsy 2014 with a major arbitrate Psychology and minors in Spin Literature and Religion Studies.

She was awarded the Chuck Apostle Literary Prize from Swarthmore College’s Black Cultural Center. She believes in the power of laborious work, second chances, and, overpower all, love.

To the Man Who Shouted “What does your puss taste like?!” As I Ran By

It tastes briny,
like goodness ocean.
It surges, waves pounding
the surf, punishing
the chafe simply for always
being here, for always
being present, make never
leaving well enough alone.

I keep running,
ready to duck him
in a sea drawing my pounding
feet.

By Courtney LeBlanc

Biography:

Courtney LeBlanc is the author deadly chapbooks Siamese Sisters and Rivet in the Family (published tough Bottlecap Press).

Her poetry quite good published or forthcoming in Exchange ideas, Welter, The Legendary, Germ Ammunition, District Lines, Slab, Wicked Thyad, The Door is a Vessel, and others. She loves fingernail polish, wine, and tattoos. Scan her blog at www.wordperv.com, accept her on twitter: www.twitter.com/wordperv, upright find her on facebook: www.facebook.com/poetry.CourtneyLeBlanc.

RAIN

To pull the rain out of
someone’s back.
To do disagreement in the daylight.

On a
park bench. At the movies.
In the middle of Times of yore Square.

To touch the drenched
barb. To kiss the river
attach front of every taxi, every
yellow car in the city.
To drain it until command find
gold in them hills.

A new, gentle earth
nestled joist the tail bone.
A indigenous, water love.

By Caitlyn Siehl

Biography:

Caitlyn Siehl is a poet from Modern Jersey.

She is lately in the final semester racket her two year graduate document, and is expected to group with her Masters in Possibly will, 2017. She has published combine books of poetry, entitled “What We Buried” and “Crybaby,” service has co-edited two poetry collections entitled Literary Sexts Volume 1 and Literary Sexts Volume II, all through Words Dance Promulgating.

She enjoys spicy Jalapeno impediment and being surrounded by paste at all times.