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Antoinette Brim

Capital Community College
Assistant Professor of English

Antoinette Brim, author of two collections of poetry "Icarus in Love" (Main Street Rag, 2013) and "Psalm of the Sunflower" (Willow Books, 2009), is a Cave Canem Foundation fellow, a recipient of the Walker Foundation Scholarship to the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, and a Pushcart Prize nominee.


Her poetry, memoir and critical work has appeared in various journals and magazines including the "Tidal Basin Review," "95Notes" and "Southern Women’s Review," as well as, anthologies including "Villanelles," “Stand Our Ground: Poems for Trayvon Martin and Marissa Alexander,” “Critical Insights: Alice Walker," “44 on 44: Forty-Four African American Writers on the 44th President of the United States," "Not A Muse" and "Just Like A Girl: A Manifesta."  A printmaker, Brim recently exhibited both poetry and monoprints in the “Jazz: An exhibition of Poetry, Prints and Photography” at the Sumner McKnight Crosby Jr. Gallery in New Haven, CT.  Presently, her work is included in the Creative Arts Workshop's 2016 Student Show.



Additionally, Brim is a former guest host of Patrick Oliver’s Literary Nation Talk Radio (KABF 88.3, Little Rock) for which she interviewed a variety of entertainers, literary figures, political pundits and community developers.  A sought after speaker, editor, educator and consultant, Brim is an Assistant Professor of English at Capital Community College.  www.antoinettebrim.com


What is reflected in the Koi pond in early evening


Koi:   antiquity in gold leaf with crimson splashes of autumn white; a slow stir of fin and finesse nestled amongst fans of green leaves. A shield of water lily brushes my face from the distance.  I am afloat amidst jewels that swim and dart.  My face is fluid.  My eyes are adamant black; a mirror of time unfolding, spawning forward thrust.  Awash, I am illusion:  a duet of amniotic moon and stony pool bottom. Without gills, I breathe brocaded scale and dragon wing. II. A wave of my hand across the water's surface erases my face from the pond and stirs the newly fallen leaves into excitement.  They turn koi and swim deeply into the waiting school.  The water remembers and returns to its former home. III. Silken dusk curves and sways in the koi pond. It does not fear being lost; instead, it bathes in clear stillness, caresses the koi and then withdraws into the darkening sky.