Caitlin Meissner

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"[Caitlin Meissner is]
Melodic words of wisdom... streetjazzoetry."
- Doodlebug of Digable Planets
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"Caitlin dares us to care and care about every minute of breath we're allotted,
with poems that incise and lay bare the universe and our place in it, her heart
and ours, our shared hope for the world and all that undergirds it."
-Marty McConnell, HBO Def Poet & LouderArts Co-Curator
“I have to tell you that Caitlin Meissner is stunning. Her words (poetry and
otherwise) speak to something central in my sensory memory. I feel
everything in every inch. I know exactly what she means and wish I said
it like that too. It’s so clear and so clean and so crisp and so amazingly
magnificent.”
– Bassey Ikpi, 5 time HBO Def Poet
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Never one to fit neatly into labels, Albany-raised, Brooklyn-based Caitlin Meissner is a poet, activist, educator and graphic designer with a BFA from Pratt Institute. Caitlin began writing at age nine, with a chapbook of Christmas poems acclaimed by Ms. Terry, her fourth grade teacher. Fourteen years later, she uses her background in anti-racism work, disability advocacy and youth empowerment to propel carefully crafted poems on the human experience. She has featured for the progressive literary collective louderArts; opened for the acclaimed Page Meets Stage series, shared sets with musicians such as Immortal Technique, Grandmaster Caz, Maya Azucena, Boot Camp Clik, One Self and many others; has been published in the His Rib and Got Poetry 2007 anthologies; mentors young people through various sources, and has performed on countless stages- from street corners to Columbia University, The Nuyorican Poets Café to Rikers Island. Caitlin is currently Project Coordinator of the all-woman Saturday Performance Series at The Lower Eastside Girls Club (where she also teaches poetry), is involved in way too many projects (ask her about them!) and trying to keep the demons away by madly scribbling poems in her notebook on the subway. Her journey is to live, and help others live, as magically as possible.
If you aren't satisfied with this bio, a longer one can be found here .
For booking info & other inquiries: [email protected]
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DIALOGUE WITH THE SELF & THE SKY
(a prayer of sorts.)
We were the children catching fireflies
captive in glass jars / creating a universe
just our own when the sky bled endless unfair
belonging to everyone and no one all at once
the children who loved the dark throat of storms:
big purple/blue-black stallions we imagined
galloping rolling thunderclaps’n clouds
through that very same expanse of night
children whose father’s jazz was church
sitting Sunday best for the hot wet belt
of Mahalia Jackson / flowering the notes out
blossoming gospel in our young swagger
we were hungry little thieves then
belly-up under bed tents
a black hole of teeth and juice
open mouthed/ pouring stories to the moon
now-days we do not wish for fame
nor more money than enough to pay the milkman fair
a quiet kind of life with a bowl shaped room
just enough to slide our voices ‘round in
to pull the latch on these grenades of
hearts exploding over ourselves,
red as blood orange / sticky little fingers
please, lord
let one person hear me before I die
good and strong let them press their
palms flat together to pray on a poem
let them throw it down
wade in the water, oh children
throw it down /down
reduced to rhythm pulse
where the deep dwelling jellyfish
are a simple see-through heartbeat
this verse we call life or cycle or journey
let me speak it the only way I know how
which is soft and loud all at once
which is mean and cruel, honest
round as a marble on my tongue /
sharp, just the same
please let me be honest, lord
truth is no use for hands
if you aren’t planting
rubbing / drumming life back into it
build me a rocket ship
deliver me the strength to touch
something greater than this body
make me a vessel for something bigger
something magical that
my mind is too stupid to wrap around
make me humble in my wants
only enough to count on ten fingers
enough to live each blissful moment
drenched in my own brand of love & sweat
lord, give me a river to drown in
fill my lungs with salt and song
float me gently toward the sun
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Copyright Caitlin Meissner 2008
( More poems, rants, daily explorations here )
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Your wisdom/love/stories here, please.