BIO: Joan Wiese Johannes has been publishing poetry, articles, and creative nonfiction for twenty-five years. Her writing has appeared in numerous magazines, literary journals, and anthologies, includng Cat Fancy, Rattle, The Wisconsin River Journal, Moving Out, Jam Today, Rhino, Peninsula Pulse, The Ball State Forum, Fox Cry Review, Free Verse, Verse Wisconsin, Wisconsin Academy Review, Wisconsin Trails, English Journal, Poets Who Haven't Moved to Minneapolis, Poets Who Haven't Moved to St. Paul, At the Heart of Riverwood, and Wisconsin Poets' Calendars. She has also published three chapbooks, two of poetry and one of original north woods mythology. She is the 2009 winner of the John and Miriam Morris Chapbook Competition.

Joan has won the Triad and Trophy Poem contests sponsored by the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets, as well as several contests sponsored by Free Verse; and has placed in the Trophy, Triad, and Muse contests sponsored by WFOP, in addition to placing in contests sponsored by The Writer's Place, Byline, Peninsula Pulse, English Journal and The Wisconsin Academy of Science and Letters. She has also judged poetry contests for Free Verse and The Wisconsin Academy of Science and Letters. Joan has been named, along with her husband Jeffrey, as editor of the 2012 Wisconsin Poets' Calender.

A presenter and featured reader, Joan's workshops and presentations include Native American flute, as well as poetry. Having studied with internationally celebrated Native American flutist R. Carlos Nakai at ten, week-long workshops since 1997, in 2003 she was awarded a silver medallion for sharing Native American flute through publishing duets for voice/flute in actual pitch and NA flute tablature. Her duet CD of original flute compositions, Heyoalinda, recorded with Wayne McCleskey, was also released in 2003. In addition, her poetry, musical compositions, and lyrics have been published in songbooks for the Native American flute.

1993 Wisconsin Secondary Teacher of the Year, 1999 Chisholm Award winner for the exemplary teaching of English, and winner of the Best Supporting Actress and Best Actress awards from The Wisconsin Rapids Community Company of Players, Joan uses her skills as a teacher and dramatist to entertain and inform audiences. Since retiring from teaching in 2007, she leads workshops for adults and students, writes/composes, and creates presentations for specific events such as Diversity Day at the High Ground Veteran's Memorial, nature/writing retreats for EarthWonders, The International Birds in Art Show at the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Museum, and The International Native American Flute Convention.

Joan lives in Port Edwards with her poet husband Jeffrey and often shares the stage with him for readings.

Happily Ever After (Wild Whoop Press, 2014) $8.00 + $2.00 postage
He Thought the Periodic Table Was a Portrait of God
(Finishing Line Press, 2013) $12.00
Sensible Shoes,
Winner of the 2009 John and Miriam Morris Memorial Chapbook Contest sponsored by the Alabama State Poetry Society (New Dawn Unlimited, Inc., 2010) $5.00
Myopic Nerve
, 2005 ($11.25 postage included)
Four Duets for Native American Flute and Voice
, sheet music, 2003. SOLD OUT
, CD released with Wayne McCleskey, 2003 ($15.00, postage included)
Mother Less Child
, poetry chapbook, 2000. SOLD OUT
The Mending of the Moonglow
, creative nonfiction chapbook, 1999. SOLD OUT

Happily Ever After cover        
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His smooth-lobed rump emerging, partially breech,
toward orbs he reached the moment he was born.
He grasped at full moons just beyond his reach:

the breasts of Prufrock’s mermaids, each to each;
the plump, sweet kernels in each husk of corn.
His smooth-lobed rump emerging, partially breech.

That vainly sought delight of perfect peach,
so fragrant, golden, plump with juices warm.
He grasped at full moons just beyond his reach.

A glossy, opened shell on lonely beach,
he spun with tides, then dizzy, turned forlorn,
his smooth-lobed rump emerging, partially breech.

An owl’s eyes glow just before the screech,
And rabbits roll up fetal, then are torn.
He grasped at full moons just beyond his reach.

Then circling, circling, always in his search
for fullness as the sun rolled round each morn,
his smooth-lobed rump emerging, partially breech,
he grasped at full moons just beyond his reach.

—Joan Wiese Johannes

First published in Off Channel as a finalist in the Mississippi Valley Poetry Contest


It is syrup time,
and Tom tramps, taps, and talks
about the bear who took ten buckets
and left tracks around his camp.
He shakes his head and says
he hopes the fire
keeps it away when he boils down,
tells me he applied for a permit
as he mimes the pull of a trigger.

But I, like his bear
will follow the trail of white buckets,
drink sap clear as streams.

I plan to walk circles around spring
before the big boil-down turns me
dark as bear fur thick as blood.

—Joan Wiese Johannes

First published in Peninsula Pulse