Biography of Katrina Wisniewski
Katrina Wisniewski is currently a student at Mt. San Antonio College in California. She is studying to be a photographer as well as a graphic designer. After completing her time at Mt San Antonio College, she plans to transfer to a photography school or Art Institute in Orange County California. One day Katrina hopes to open her own photography studio and design for graphic arts. Aside from being a full-time student, Katrina’s favorite things to do are taking pictures of the beach and writing poetry. Writing poetry was something that Katrina started when she was in high school and has continued with it ever since. Her motivations for writing poetry are simply unexplainable. Poetry is more of a venting space for feelings unrevealed. Other hobbies include sarcasm, tanning, thinking too much, listening to music/going to concerts, and going to Disneyland. Katrina lives in Walnut with her mother, grandparents, brother and sister.
Katrina Wisniewski's Works:
Verses & Curses
Katrina Wisniewski Poems
His Darkest Hour
he guarded the night once the Darkest Knight some called him fighting crime, protecting the innocent it’s what he did best
The venue reeked of excitement as the four took position A tune that took the shape of a moon, like an ongoing vibe that hypnotizes the soul.
Forgetting To Remember
I forgot what it was like to feel; to imagine a world beyond my own and understand how these will heal.
We run, We hide, We conquer nothing.
F-stops and shutter speeds galore changes our mind and creates our soul. We ache for color, we must adore; F-stops and shutter speeds galore
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum combined, were loads of fun but so absurd. We chased a dragonfly and got left behind,
The Days Gone By
isolated from all that is near popping the cork, her life is just a blur repeating the words that echo deep, the music plays only to cover the thoughts that tend to creep.
He sets the mood, calling her name, telling a story of nothing but dismay. Pondering his words and feeling shame, wanting to escape, she remains his prey.
to stop the anger that floats within i bear arms and forget to breathe. tears trinkle down my face, only to ignore this shooting pain.
Strategically misplace, a crippled fairy tale told by yours truly. It happened the first of May, he glanced towards me and said, 'We're done.' Taken by surprise, I asked him, 'Why? '
He sets the mood, calling her name,
telling a story of nothing but dismay.
Pondering his words and feeling shame,
wanting to escape, she remains his prey.
He talks in paragraphs, moving off topic,
explaining the truths and depicting the lies.
Seeing the future, she develops a panic,
aching to speak, would this be wise?
He stands his ground, avoiding all calmness,