Bio/ About

me (far left) with Sakura Saunders and Darius Mirshahi

me (far left) with Sakura Saunders and Darius Mirshahi

I’ve been writing since I was a kid, and I was first published at the age of fourteen as one of the winners of This Magazine‘s Great Canadian Literary Hunt. Since then my fiction, poetry, articles, and essays, have appeared in piles of publications including The Huffington Post, Counterpunch, The Dominion, Canadian Woman Studies, and many others, as well as having won a handful of awards.  My first book of poems, These Burning Streets, was published in 2012 by Combustion Books.

I spent the majority of my adolescence hitch hiking and riding freight trains across the country, living in abandoned buildings, flop houses, tent cities, and tree platforms at protest camps. My fiction and poetry illustrate life in society’s margins, giving voice to the stories which are often absent from mainstream literature.

My non-fiction usually covers topics relating to social and environmental justice, LGBTQI* issues, womens’ issues, and prisoner justice. I’ve given lectures and participated in conferences across the country on harm reduction, incarceration, and violence against women. I also recently co-founded Voices Unchained, a magazine which publishes art and writing by incarcerated women.

I’m in my final year of an undergraduate degree in Human Rights and Human Diversity at Wilfrid Laurier University.

14 responses to “Bio/ About

  1. Ajitesh

    What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
    ——————————————————————

    What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
    And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul

    I see some rich words loaded to be fired at will
    Spending time in cocooned luxury
    I see some poor words wretched & used in every single phrase
    Seeking attention to be begged
    I see the words ‘mediocre’ with iron in fists
    Holding their spaces and connecting phrases with a hair to spare
    I see the neo-rich fantabulous
    Used without a thought to spare of the path virtuous

    What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
    And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul

    I see the third person singular mermaids enshrined at homes
    Wanting to extend the tired limbs and join the world
    I see the Neolithic kerb crawlers seeking backdoor entry
    Mesmerizing the world with their Midas touch
    I see the corrupted studs and the brazen without shame
    Loading their guns for the paparazzi to share
    And lastly…
    I see the words that mean compassion, love and brotherhood
    Which stand nowhere among the crowd
    But are the first ones to share their seats
    Giving sustenance and sharing last drop energy…required
    To smoothen chipped markings engraved in each person’s soul
    What if I travel like a poet and see the world around
    And perceive the markings engraved in each person’s soul

    Pls let me know regarding this….

  2. Wow, this is beautiful. Have we met before?

  3. Ajitesh

    No Kelly. I just had a chance to see your blog page and seeing your extensive experience in the writing field, I wanted your views on the lines written above.

    I hope I was not on an offensive to ask you about your views straightaway.

    • not offensive at all! I hope you send your poetry out into the world

      • Ajitesh

        Kelly, sending one more of my creations for you…

        Cloudless Ties

        I wish of cloudless ties
        so that everything which is seen
        Can be believed…

        Like the parched deep brown color
        of the dying leaf
        Like the golden grass last playful wisp
        in the dying air
        Like the hollow roar
        of a toothless lion
        Like the dying beauty
        of a moonlit night
        Like the changing hollow season
        One filling into the other without a rattle…

        Oh I wish so much for cloudless ties
        So that naked truth hidden in the eyes
        flows smooth and sweet
        and smells like
        backed earth
        the crispy whiff of the first summer rain
        the first shiver of the darkening skies
        the golden glow of the silent nights
        the shimmering dawn on the splattered dew drops
        that vaporize as the day goes up
        and leave behind the naked moist reality…

        Oh These humid cloudy ties
        precipitate the wavy pattern
        of the frowning lines
        For if life would have been fairer
        like a chiseled two way mirror
        the moist patterns could be wiped clean
        and images made more clearer, sharper
        that could hold in them fresh, sweet sounds
        of a new beginning…

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