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...so they say...
| Joined: |
May 17, 2008 |
| Rank: |
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| Awards: |
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| Location: |
Waterbury, CT |
| Last visit: |
Tuesday, November 17, 2009 (19:32:06) |
| My Occupation: |
High school math teacher |
| Interests: |
Martial Arts, Writing, Scrabble |
| Signature: |
Today is a gift. That's why they call it the present. |
| Biography: |
Victoria Rivas has been a math teacher for three years. She always wanted to teach but somehow got detoured for 25 years programming computers.
She is also poetry addict who now uses her students and job for inspiration. Victoria has featured around CT and NY for the past 15 years, including the Bethel Arts Junction, The Buttonwood Tree, Kafe International, Klekolo World Coffee, and many other CT venues as well as The Knitting Factory in NYC.
Her poetry has been published in many journals including Bogg, The Underwood Review, Big Hammer, Connecticut River Review, Caprice, Common Ground Review, Brouhaha, and the Journal of Asian Martial Arts. It has also been included in two anthologies, Working Hard for the Money from Bottom Dog Press and Along the Lake edited by Sean Thomas Dougherty. She has one chapbook Doing Laundry, and is working on a new book, Yo Miss! I Need a Pencil which includes poetry and prose.
Victoria was on the board of directors for the The 8th Annual National Poetry Slam Championship & 1997 Connecticut Poetry Festival, and the 2001 and 2003 Connecticut Poetry Festivals. She was also an alternate on the 1998 CT Slam Team.
Her press, Ye Olde Font Shoppe, specializes in Connecticut poets and the new generation of beat poets. She hopes to someday support herself with the profits from the press, but then she also thinks world peace is possible.
P.S. That's my real classroom in the background of my Simpsonized pic... |
Gemstone Love
a sonnet
Each moment spent with you is precious stone
to gather in my heart for empty days
and cloudy, coal black nights spent all alone
with memories of you in disarray.
I'll pull your ruby kisses from my heart
to feel them once again upon my lips.
The turquoise touch your fingers, hands impart
will hold me close when time so quickly slips
away from me as I grow grey and old.
I'll see your opal eyes gaze into mine
until they brim and teardrops, uncontrolled,
run down my cheeks in memory divine.
At last, the moonstone love our bodies share,
will shine within my heart beyond compare.
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