Off the Bricks Poetry Podcast

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I had the distinct pleasure of joining Katherine Heiss of Brick Street Poetry on the Off the Bricks Poetry Podcast to read and discuss a few poems from my newest poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn, available for order online at Kelsay Books and Amazon.

Have a listen and enjoy!

What They’re Sayin’…

Photo: Printed Proof of cover illustration for poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn.

Preliminary words of praise for my forthcoming poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn!

I’m so grateful to d., Candice, and Mary for gracing my book’s back cover with such wise, insightful, enthusiastic words of praise for these poems! We Have Seen the Corn will be available for order via the Kelsay Books website and Amazon soon… 

From her invented “In-titled” form, to frolicking word play and elegant word choice, Ms. Harper demonstrates an uncommon command of every line and syllable in this evocative collection. Here, the poet is fully present, and the work is stunning. We Have Seen the Corn is deeply personal work: the poet reckoning with “the notion of a self / inhabited too briefly.” She asks, “why and why and why,” bringing us again and again to the “brown brink” of grief. Deftly, the poet titrates between the beauty and “unspeakable devastation” of nature: “Indigo Bunting,” cicadas mating, and “the womb’s hush” counterbalance grief and loss. Here amid the “sweet sultry folds” of an abiding love, there is exquisite tenderness, as the poet reveals herself, unabashed, shedding every husk.

~ d. ellis phelps, EIC: formidable woman sanctuary, author, of failure & faith.

Stephanie L. Harper’s We Have Seen the Corn envelops the reader in a potent diorama of its poet’s world. Harper’s grief in discovering her beloved husband’s illness, though palpable, serves not to suffocate but rather, in a highly conscious, poetically masterful manner, to elucidate the indescribable subject of unbearable pain. At this work’s crux, Harper asks, “Can I grieve?” and her unvarnished feelings unfurl before us, in response. We Have Seen the Corn is a ravishing compilation of high craft without pretention. Harper’s poetic voice possesses a poignant pulse and unforgettable reach into our inner psyche.

~ Candice Louisa Daquin, Senior Editor Indie Blu(e) Publishing and Raw Earth Ink, author, Tainted by the Same Counterfeit.

In her new poetry collection, We Have Seen the Corn, Stephanie L. Harper captures the natural world’s beauty as she uniquely sees it. The poet invites us to share in her wonderment at goats, plants, birds, and people, whose presence in her life “[burnishes] the sparse bright / sprinkle of grass (…) over into the / universe of shimmer.” Harper galvanizes our imaginations for an epic journey through her poetic world: When the Slumbering Entomophile chronicles for us a steamy cicada tryst in a lilac tree, we want to be voyeurs in this dream, too. And when we encounter Harper’s “golden orb spider,” whose “unseen murmuring, / spinning silence / (…) glistens / in the dawn’s sun-tinged tears,” we want to be there, listening. 

~ Mary Sexson, author, Her Addiction, An Empty Place at the Table.

In-titled Poem Live in The Dodge Magazine

Close-up of a partly-submerged northern green frog's face and eyes, with water droplets suspended around him.

I’m so pleased to share that my In-titled Poem, “By the Moonlit Water Where the Dombiki Sing,” is now featured in the lovely eco-literary journal, The Dodge. I’m grateful to editors Edward Sambrano III and Jamie A. M. for selecting my work for publication, and for their kindness and enthusiasm, in general, throughout the publication process.

“By the Moonlit Water Where the Dombiki Sing” also appears in my chapbook, We Have Seen the Corn, forthcoming summer 2025 with Kelsay Books, which I’m shamelessly taking advantage of this opportunity to plug, once, again :). 

Digital illustration of the sun setting behind a cornfield, shafts of light bleeding through the stalks, fading to a distant thunderhead and starry night sky beyond.
Conspiring Skyward by Cameren Harper

New Chapbook Announcement!

Digital illustration of the sun setting behind a cornfield, shafts of light bleeding through the stalks, fading to a distant thunderhead and starry night sky beyond.

Conspiring Skyward by Cameren Harper

I’m super pleased and proud to announce that I have a poetry chapbook collection forthcoming with Kelsay Books: We Have Seen the Corn will be entering production in May 2025, and will be available for purchase soon thereafter (Don’t worry, I will keep you updated!). By the way, the gorgeous graphic above is the illustration my immensely talented and generous daughter, Cameren Harper, created expressly for use as the cover of We Have Seen the Corn, for which I’m inexpressibly grateful!

This little collection has been a long time in the making and most of the individual poems have been previously published (including the title poem, below*), but what I’m most thrilled about is this opportunity to amass and share with you all these words of grief, growth, joy, and celebration into one beautiful entity dedicated to my husband, inspiration, love of my life, brilliant poet, and most extraordinary (and freaking adorable!) of human beings, the one and only, inimitable Robert Okaji (idk, you may’ve heard of him…).

I’ve been sitting on this news for quite a while, but I’ve decided that there couldn’t be a better time to make such an announcement than during our revered National Poetry Month, so the cat is officially clawing her way out of the bag!

Thank you so much for sharing this poetic moment with me! And stay tuned for more info as it comes available!

*We Have Seen the Corn

with twelve-hundred miles
of fields in our wake

I am aching
to slip among those stalks & touch

their silk-topped ears all conspiring
skyward now

to beguile the birds’ cries from the brim
of that thundercloud

burgeoning
over the Nebraska plain

let’s pull off the interstate     so we can
stretch our legs for a bit

Indiana will wait

split those crows’ itinerant
congregation     there     & park

right alongside the unending green
I want to enter

its late-sun-streams sifting the sky motes
crimson-gold     & stirring

the cicadas’ whirrs & earwigs’ scuttles in the loam
to a viscous chorus

& with my hand clasped in yours     press
another lush measure

into our song’s sweet & sultry folds

~STEPHANIE L. HARPER