Joan Wiese Johannes
CONTACT:
Joan Wiese Johannes
800 Ver Bunker Avenue
Port Edwards, WI 54469
joanjeff@wctc.net
BIO:
Joan Wiese Johannes believes Thornton Wilder was right when he wrote that only poets and saints truly appreciate life while they are living it. Although not a candidate for sainthood, Joan loves her life as a retired teacher and poet, and enjoys publishing poetry, articles, compositions for the Native American-style flute, and creative nonfiction. Her four poetry chapbooks include Sensible Shoes, the winner of the John and Miriam Morris Memorial Chapbook Contest, and He Thought the Periodic Table Was a Portrait of God from Finishing Line Press. Her full-length poetry book, Lamenting My Failure to Learn How to Tap Dance and Other Missteps was published in 2023 by Water’s Edge Press. Joan’s poetry has also appeared in numerous magazines, literary journals, and anthologies, including Revise the Psalm: Work Celebrating the Writing of Gwendolyn Brooks, LOCKDOWN 2020, Allegro & Adagio Dance Anthology, and Last Walk: Using Poetry to Grieve and Remember our Pets. Winner of the 2011 regional poetry award from the Mississippi Valley Poetry Society, Joan has also won and placed in contests sponsored by Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, Wisconsin People and Ideas, The HAL Contest, Free Verse, and English Journal. She has been a member of Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets for many years, serving as a regional vice president and currently co-chairing the Triad Contest. In 2023 she taught a zoom workshop for WFOP on one of her favorite topics: Writing the First Poems of your Life. She also co-edited the 2012 Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar and the Winter 2019 issue of Bramble with her husband Jeffrey. They live in Port Edwards, WI.
PUBLICATIONS:
Lamenting My Failure to Learn How to Tap Dance and Other Missteps (Water’s Edge Press) $18.00
He Thought the Periodic Table Was a Portrait of God (Finishing Line Press, 2013) $12.00
Sensible Shoes (New Dawn Unlimited, Inc., 2010) SOLD OUT
Myopic Nerve, 2005 SOLD OUT
Mother Less Child, poetry chapbook (2000) SOLD OUT
Poetry
Life Expectancy
(In 1864 Juliet the Elephant died at the Circus winter camp.)
A turtle rests on the bottom of Lake Delavan.
It could have seen the dead elephant
falling like Matisse’s cut-out of Icarus
through the enormous hole cut in the ice.
It could have seen the dead elephant,
a dark shape surrounded by light,
through the enormous hole cut in the ice,
in frigid water, metabolism drained,
a dark shape surrounded by light
coming to rest in the sand beside it
in frigid water, metabolism drained
as passive sonar bounced shore to shore
coming to rest in the sand beside it,
eyes the size of golf balls,
as passive sonar bounced shore to shore.
Did boys, long-dead, dare each other,
eyes the size of golf balls,
to dive deep and look Death in the eye?
Did boys, long-dead, dare each other
during the decades of decomposition
to dive deep and look Death in the eye,
falling like Matisse’s cut-out of Icarus?
During the decades of decomposition,
a turtle rests on the bottom of Lake Delavan.
On Your 95th Birthday, You Tell Me
These days I sense the closing of the door
that through the years was always open wide.
My little boat waits tethered on the shore.
I do not have the strength to launch it nor
the will to even take a walk outside.
These days I sense the closing of the door.
The pleasures of my youth are now a chore;
why hike or row when you can rest or ride?
My little boat waits tethered on the shore.
Asleep, I dream that I am three or four,
a pre-teen, adolescent or a bride;
and yet, I sense the closing of the door.
Today I wish for less instead of more.
More than my share I’ve had; I’m satisfied.
My little boat waits tethered on the shore.
And mindful of what nature has in store,
I’m ready for what cannot be denied.
These days I sense the closing of the door;
my little boat waits tethered on the shore.