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Stevie Edwards
Goodreads Author
Born
in Lansing, MI, The United States
Website
Genre
Influences
Member Since
January 2012
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/stevietheclumsy
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Sadness Workshop
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Good Grief: A Collection of Poetry
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published
2012
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3 editions
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Humanly
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published
2015
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3 editions
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Not My President, The Anthology of Dissent
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Multiverse!: A Superhero Poetry Anthology of Superhuman Proportions
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published
2014
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Quiet Armor: Poems
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Review of Quiet Armor
I'm very grateful for this generous review of Quiet Armor from Donna Vorreyer in South Florida Poetry Journal.
"This exploration of the quiet armor that women wear as they go to war— whether against family expectations, societal norms, political intrusion, abusive men, self-loathing, mental illness, addiction, or sickness—both sings and haunts. It questions the quiet of this armor. It shakes its me Read more of this blog post »
"This exploration of the quiet armor that women wear as they go to war— whether against family expectations, societal norms, political intrusion, abusive men, self-loathing, mental illness, addiction, or sickness—both sings and haunts. It questions the quiet of this armor. It shakes its me Read more of this blog post »
Stevie’s Recent Updates
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| I loved Morrison's portrayal of complicated women in this book. Sula, Nel, and Eva are all characters that will stick with me. ...more | |
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Stevie Edwards
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| I loved this book. As a working class kid who went to an Ivy League MFA, I feel like this novel healed something in me. | |
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| I loved this book! As an introvert, it was so affirming to read this. I've spent most of my life regarding my introversion as something that needs to be fixed, and this book helped me to appreciate it and myself more. ...more | |
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Stevie Edwards
rated a book it was amazing
Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness (Shambhala Library)
by Sharon Salzberg (Goodreads Author) |
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Stevie Edwards
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“WHAT I MEAN BY RUIN IS…
When there’s only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.
When you’ve shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.
When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can’t find any songs
for rain in its frets.
When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.
When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there’s nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.
When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper’s grave.
When you’re too ugly to pray,
but pray
and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
good grief.”
―
When there’s only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.
When you’ve shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.
When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can’t find any songs
for rain in its frets.
When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.
When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there’s nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.
When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper’s grave.
When you’re too ugly to pray,
but pray
and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
good grief.”
―
“So this is love. So this is entropy. I’ll break every bone in my feet running toward the shiny gate of it.
The whole damn sky holds its breath.”
―
The whole damn sky holds its breath.”
―
“So this is love. So this is entropy. I’ll break
every bone in my feet running toward
the shiny gate of it.
The whole damn sky holds its breath.
— Stevie Edwards, from “Offering,” Humanly. (Small Doggies Press, March 17, 2015)”
― Humanly
every bone in my feet running toward
the shiny gate of it.
The whole damn sky holds its breath.
— Stevie Edwards, from “Offering,” Humanly. (Small Doggies Press, March 17, 2015)”
― Humanly
“Deliver me from writers who say the way they live doesn't matter. I'm not sure a bad person can write a good book. If art doesn't make us better, then what on earth is it for.”
―
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“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
― Bird by Bird
― Bird by Bird
“So this is love. So this is entropy. I’ll break every bone in my feet running toward the shiny gate of it.
The whole damn sky holds its breath.”
―
The whole damn sky holds its breath.”
―
“WHAT I MEAN BY RUIN IS…
When there’s only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.
When you’ve shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.
When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can’t find any songs
for rain in its frets.
When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.
When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there’s nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.
When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper’s grave.
When you’re too ugly to pray,
but pray
and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
good grief.”
―
When there’s only condiments left in the fridge
and you join a free online dating service
so men will buy you dinner.
When you’ve shucked the night with the dull blade
of indecision and gulped down everything,
even the pearls.
When some old, left-handed love has left
your guitar strung backwards
and you can’t find any songs
for rain in its frets.
When you wake up next to the body
of your past and it looks ready
to wrinkle and bald.
When the last burn of summer is peeling
from your breasts and there’s nothing to husk
the pale, raw of new flesh.
When the woman who wears her hair
in the old way quits mumbling about Jesus
on the street corner and takes her salvation
pamphlets to a pauper’s grave.
When you’re too ugly to pray,
but pray
and the only voice
on the drunk subway wails
good grief.”
―
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