About

Close up of a weirdo with faded blue hair in octagonal progressive glasses.

Beach in Bandon, OR with weirdo holding rake attempting to help the crew of Circles in the Sand create their sand labyrinth

Redde sitting on a stone wall across from the Robert Frost Hall at SNHU

The Bio Blurb:

Redde Michaels was raised on highway radio and rest stop stall poetry. Now, she is a nomadic hermit playing semantics with her mind. Her first publication, complete with quasi-calligraphic penmanship, is on display inside OKC’s Factory Obscura. More digitally crisp work has been published by In Parentheses, Dipity, The Penmen Review, and The Dark Poets Club.

The more you know…

Whether that made you think of Aristotle 
or NBC's shooting star PSA, you're in good company.
 
I am called a latchkey kid, the kind that knew secret knocks
and phone ring codes, back when they were synchronized.

We are a multifaceted bunch
self-sufficient renaissance rebels 
shaped by radio edits and daytime TV. 

Maybe you too were an outcast
or maybe you masked with the best.
In either case, you are one of a kind - just like me.

I wanted to be Xena, but felt more like Gabrielle
I never understood why Sarah didn't stay with Jareth
or why the beasts were always the ones made to change.

Maybe because I was born branded
with recalcitrant Taurean genes and a witch's silver streak
as if being a woman wasn't damning enough
with all the pandemonium of creation we contain.

The stability I experience as an adult is still baffling
but as the scale slowly rebalances with years lived
I am finding that I can now afford to have dreams. 

I picked up the pencil again to work behind the scenes
to become the writer's editor, their champion and lookout
and I discovered purpose does not have to be singular
it can be as kaleidoscopic as we are.