Biography of Linda Stitt
My mother read poetry to me when I was in her womb and I emerged, I am told, in Huntsville, Ontario, crying in iambic pentameter. With the encouragement of my parents, I was composing verses as soon as I could talk.
I was educated in Georgetown and Toronto and lived for many years in Thunder Bay, where I began a process of what Carl Sagan described as 'matter coming to consciousness.'
The exploration continues even now that I have exceeded my shelf life and surpassed my best before date.
'In view of the fact that my work has been known,
on occasion, to rhyme,
I consider myself an anachronism
in my own time.'
Linda Stitt's Works:
'Adjust Your Set' by National Heritage Books
'Bliss Pig and other poems' by National Heritage Books
'Insights and Outlooks' by National Heritage Books
'Passionate Intensity' by Serephim Editions
Linda Stitt Poems
Coming To Terms
Time and chance have worn me quite away, yet I may serve without despair or wrath.
Woman In Question
I never questioned that fathers knew best, that husbands were always obeyed, that God was a man who required that His children be dutiful, meek and afraid.
Fish And Company
My mother's hospitality's been legend all her life and my father as a host was second only to his wife but some things are not inherited so, love them as I may, I tell my friends the rules of the house
Wimp In Wolf's Clothing
Well, I met this man at a party last night and he had an interesting kind of face, craggy and weatherbeaten
Who can I tell about you? You were the one I told everything to and even before I could say it, you knew. Now who can I tell about you?
We go blindly into battle, unable to see that our own animosity is the adversary.
We have so little time to plant the seeds, to tend the blossoms.
Spiral and spin and swirl through shadows of space, and make a shimmering twist in time in your vortical wake.
Flow water and wind, bear away concept and thought. This is not mine, nor my soul. This I am not.
I keep my kuti spic and span and tidy as I go. I wash my bowl as best I can and keep my profile low.
Summit As Pique Experience (Toronto - 19...
To this city where I dwell has come the foetid, martial scent of uniform and armament and folk who do not love me well.
Through my ears, my eyes, my fingertips, creation comes to know itself. Over my lips, as I remember to allow,
Born Again...And Again...
All is impermanent, the sages say; all that is formed will surely pass away. And, though experience has shown this to be so, my little self refuses to let go,
Who can I tell about you?
You were the one I told everything to
and even before I could say it, you knew.
Now who can I tell about you?
Friends don't come easy to me.
I know lots of people, but those I feel free
to confide in and open my heart to are few.
So who can I tell about you?