Pearl Pirie
Photo by: Roland Prevost

Recent Tree Appearances

January 24, 2017
Tree Seed Workshop
September 23, 2014
Tree Seed Workshop
January 28, 2014
Tree Seed Workshop
February 12, 2013
Tree Seed Workshop
February 12, 2013
February 12, 2013
August 14, 2012
Tree Seed Workshop
March 27, 2012
Tree Seed Workshop
January 24, 2012
Featured Reader
January 24, 2012
Tree Seed Workshop
January 10, 2012
Tree Seed Workshop
August 23, 2011
Featured Reader

Earlier Tree Appearances

2009

In Print

Cover Image
Thirsts
Published by
Snare Books
Cover Image
been shed bore
Published by
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Videos of Pearl Pirie

Video
Open Mic
November 27, 2012
Video
Open Mic
October 9, 2012
Video
Open Mic
August 14, 2012
Video
Special Events
March 13, 2012
Video
Open Mic
February 14, 2012
Video
Open Mic
August 9, 2011
Video
Featured Reader
March 22, 2011
Video
Open Mic
January 25, 2011
Video
Open Mic
November 23, 2010
Video
Open Mic
September 14, 2010
Video
Open Mic
April 13, 2010
Video
Poetics Talk
September 22, 2009
Video
Open Mic
July 14, 2009

Pearl Pirie

Pearl Pirie is a well-known Ottawa poet and has a poem included in Best Canadian Poetry 2014.

She has a forthcoming title  pet radish, shrunken  forthcoming from BookThug in spring 2015. Her poetry collections include: Thirsts (Snare, 2011) which won the Robert Kroetsch Award for innovative poetry, Mammals of Hoarfrost (Corrupt Press, 2011), Between Stations (epiphany press, 2011), been shed bore (Chaudiere, 2010) over my dead corpus (AngelHouse, 2010), b oath ouse (above/ground, 2008) and other chapbooks. Her haiku appear in various collections and broadsheets. In 2008, Pearl was one of Tree’s Hot Ottawa Voices. 


Pearl's poetry blog,  pesbo , has been following books, poetics and local poetry events since 2005. Her blog, Humanyms, aka “a verbal sketchpad of being positively human” has been posting photos and ponderings since 2003.  Since 2009 she has coordinated the Tree Seed Poetry Workshop Series.

 

Her author site is pearlpirie.com 

 

From Pearl Pirie

a night's years pass

 

sleepless, each curve
takes me to alert, to keen
your hip in  the cup of my hand,   
ribs to my forearm hair, 
the nape to not nip 
and wake you, the shift 
of your mounded rear into  
the hollow of my thigh-spoon.
sleep has fled further 
than these partly overcast skies.
the moonlight wraps you close  
as I would like, close as permission
closer than the sheets you shift off
in the heat of your turns to find
a cool place on your cotton and your face
is shadow softness and 
innocence and mine   
is a kind of hunger.    

 

Published in the forthcoming Thirsts, Snare Books, 2011