Linda Leedy Schneider and Akshaya Pawaskar
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Linda Leedy Schneider
loschneide@aol.com
Bio (auto)
Linda Leedy Schneider, winner of the 2012 Contemporary American Poetry Prize, is a political activist, poetry and writing mentor, psychotherapist in private practice, and former faculty member at Aquinas College and Kendall College of Art and Design. Her poetry received a Readers’ Choice Award from Pedestal Magazine and has been nominated for Pushcart Prizes. Linda facilitates workshops nationally including The Manhattan Writing Workshop which she founded and has led since 2008. Published in hundreds of literary magazines including The Pedestal Magazine, Rattle, The Sow’s Ear and the Journal of American Poetry, Linda has written six collections of poetry including Some Days: Poetry of a Psychotherapist (Plain View Press) and has edited two collections of poetry written by poets whom she has mentored: Mentor’s Bouquet (Finishing Line Press) and Poems From 84th Street (Pudding House Publications). Linda lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan and believes a regular writing ritual leads to discovery, authenticity, personal growth and even JOY.
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Linda Leedy Schneider and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Memories of My Daughter’s WeddingA thunderstorm brought the ceremony out of the garden But three days later when I visited assisted living and said, Previously published in Peninsular Poets
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Akshaya Pawaskar
akshaya.pawaskar@outlook.com
Bio (auto)
Akshaya Pawaskar is a doctor practicing in Goa, India, dabbling in poetry in her spare time. She has been published in Efiction India, writer’s ezine and few anthologies by Lost Tower Publications.
The following work is Copyright © 2016, and owned by Akshaya Pawaskar and may not be distributed or reprinted in any form whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Fisherman’s wharfPier juts tongued in the mouth Bikers are strolling for a change Serene daylight sits lightly over Once perhaps the land swooped Between the floppy calm flippers She feels Ghirardelli square’s ice |