About Me

About the author

Alecia Gabrielle, a poet with over a decade of experience, holds several notable achievements, including a 1st place win in the 2023 William Faulkner Literary Competition. Originally from Bentonia, Mississippi, Alecia has journeyed from Morocco to New York City. She has independently published two collections, “Afterglow Effect” and “man-made motion sickness,” alongside a poetry chapbook titled “When You’re Stuck in Traffic,” released by Bottlecap Press. Currently residing in Jackson, Alecia enjoys countryside drives, cherishes time with her dog, Pepper, and eagerly pursues new writing projects. You can connect with her across social media platforms using the handle @poetrybyalecia.

 

About the author

Alecia Gabrielle, a poet with over a decade of experience, holds several notable achievements, including a 1st place win in the 2023 William Faulkner Literary Competition. Originally from Bentonia, Mississippi, Alecia has journeyed from Morocco to New York City. She has independently published two collections, “Afterglow Effect” and “man-made motion sickness,” alongside a poetry chapbook titled “When You’re Stuck in Traffic,” released by Bottlecap Press. Currently residing in Jackson, Alecia enjoys countryside drives, cherishes time with her dog, Pepper, and eagerly pursues new writing projects. You can connect with her across social media platforms using the handle @poetrybyalecia.

 

UPCOMING COLLECTION …

Available on July 5th, 2024

Mostly Happenstance takes readers on a poetic journey through a variety of themes, including destiny and fate, the beauty of connecting with nature, the pain of betrayal, and the quest for self-discovery. These verses prompt reflection on the past and celebrate resilience while exploring identity and womanhood. The poems narrate chance encounters and life-altering experiences, all set against the backdrop of homesickness and the contrasting allure of New York City. This collection offers a personal yet universally relatable exploration of hope, uncertainty, and wonder.

Awards

1st Place - William Faulkner Literary Contest 2023

Poetry Division: “Ode to Mississippi Girlhood”

ODE TO MISSISSIPPI GIRLHOOD  

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

Within my tangled slice of sultry South,

milky magnolias make their cryptic advent.

Boundless marshlands are eclipsed in mist

and dilated dews envy crisp honeysuckles.

I whistle to the melody of forsaken fables, 

sweeping stragglers, bygones and smoke signals.

Oh, my unscripted Mississippi, how 

is it to be the cruel river's stern mistress,

to be the Delta's dainty fever dream 

and embrace every rippled sunbeam?

Beneath the leafy canopy of moss-

draped oaks and rearing mockingbirds,

I’m asked to kindle my adroit ancestors’ 

candlelit repose, their imprinted purpose. 

Clement winds carry me beyond, weave 

a hushed hymn in gusts of dappled air.

The marsh’s tall oaks taunt in tune, dance 

to a baby whippoorwill’s faint chirrups–

oh, how they will soon soar far and meet 

my myth of a branched spirit where clouds

know to gather as one, and emerge from 

sprinkled specks of flowered twilight–I waltz 

beneath fireflies’ lightning, laughter evokes 

among the evergreen pines and amber opals.

Through bayous and cotton meadows, I roam 

where the returned cicadas sing their birth.

1st Place - Literary Arts
Festival 2017

Hinds Community College. Poetry Division: “Shape of Me” (Now titled “Shapes”)

SHAPES

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

Shaped by adult madness and the scent 

of dark chocolate and Winston cigarettes.

The paper-thin tongue tasted honeysuckles,

sweet nectar behind a corroded trampoline.

I became the leaves,

the leaves became Me.

 

Shaped by quiet cobwebbed corners,

concussed head-carved imagination.

My father, who was he?

My mother, who did she become?

Myself, crafted hastily 

from an unknown world,

swallowed whole by heavy addictions,

fine handiwork of falsification in rain.

 

I became Me,

grown in empty meadows.

Two brave horses:

         Sunset and Snickers

carried me away from fierce tones,

lifted me to hide atop a decaying tree.

 

Shaped by a middle bedroom,

empty Coca-Cola cans,

cluttered kitchens,

poorly stitched seams of 

my mother’s work uniforms.

Dad’s inner eyes burned red—

even on sunny afternoons.

 

On the top shelf of my mother’s closet,

beneath the black funeral dress,

rests a peeling photo box.

Scattered polaroids,

ones snapped each year,

all burning impressions of 

myself, I cannot reclaim.

Visuals and fluid reminders:

true to the worst of times,

light souvenirs of placid days.

I am shaped by memories.

I am shaped by lies.

Honorable Mention - Literary Arts Festival 2018

Hinds Community College. Poetry Division: “Awake with Dreams”

AWAKE WITH DREAMS

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

We stumble in stars, there is 

no fixed, single constellation.

The soul will tread

an isolated ocean, dive

down to desolate creatures, 

who swim one’s own

deciphered desolation.

 

We are nostalgic for a sea

not our own to sail–

into eerie dusk, we drift,

follow the desperate sounds,

pass forsaken fluorescents, 

row headfirst

into pale sunlight,

where we wave reflections

to float along, too. 

We have never dreamed

dreams like this. 

 

We take our 

selfish aspirations,

hushed lyrics,

and delicate melodies

as a present for 

some lonely beings.

We beg for true North,

to receive ourselves

even if only once. 

2nd Place - 2023 Fall Writing Competition

Tishomingo Arts Council. Poetry Division: “The Mason Jars”

THE MASON JARS

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

I brought you here,

the place I grew up,

just to show you

back porch fireflies,

but I haven’t seen one

since I was a little girl.

My friends and I wonder

if they were even real,

if they were an invention

we crafted to blissfully ignore

the neighborhood chaos.

We cupped their candlelight

in the palm of our hands.

Mason jars were a place 

of blurry moonshine, exile;

we didn’t know better.

But you would have,

releasing them slowly,

to later discuss in detail

tiny patterns of invitations,

flashing and taunting

among summer’s leaves.

Truthfully, we called them

a swarm of lightning bugs

as did the other flip-flop-

wearing Mississippi girls.

It’s almost as if we have

a knack for renaming,

rehoming, reclaiming–

explanations and light

suddenly lost on us.

 

Honorable Mention - 2023 Fall Writing Competition

Tishomingo Arts Council. Poetry Division: “Memory Hour”

MEMORY HOUR 

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

I take my minutes by the hour, 

just as before, in junior high days–

my mother said I am a terrible liar. 

I lived for misery and movie scenes.
Sometimes I forgot which films

were set to be box office best sellers. 

Shelby would remind me–snickering, 

she wore a Harley Quinn costume

for three shy Halloweens in a row. 

To this night, she daydreams about

starring on the big silver screen.  

 

And when I visited Eagle lake years ago,

I watched an inner tube flip into the air.

Our childish bodies were spun like webs,

tossed to gales just as they were before–

we dazzled as ragdolls on wet docks. 

The lakefront was our place to dissolve;

no rights nor wrongs within a grand age 

of acoustics and sun-kissed innocence. 

 

After I filled yet another notebook 

with sworn secrets, flashlight stories of

smokey nights and creaking golf carts,

I realized the women we came to know

were far better liars than the two of us.  

They made their beds in a sultry house 

with no spare keys to offer in return.

 

Honorable Mention - 2022 Fall Writing Competition

Tishomingo Arts Council. Poetry Division: “The Breath of a Memory” (now titled “Shuffle the Human Affliction”)

SHUFFLE THE HUMAN AFFLICTION 

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

Whether I paid a yellow taxi’s costly fare 

or the subway reached the end of its route,

the fragile tin could have jolted backwards,

but still, I would have crossed direct paths 

with Dumbo’s overcrowded breweries. 

The city, wide awake while my hometown 

hibernates for the last seventy centuries. 

 

Damp stairwells I memorized by heart,

staple-bound packets of evangelicalism. 

Now I read the headlines from newsstands: 

Jennifer Aniston’s Weight Loss (Her Secret!) 

Dotted patterns are of flux, the city people 

sip cups of hot tea, conjure talk of weather. 

 

The dance of tongue in cheek fits into a glove,

guides my pale fingers to a frozen cab’s handle.

I am lost in the warm breath of a muted place 

submerged between a chipped deck of cards–

and poker faces no longer to be replicated. 

3rd Place - 2024 Spring Contest

Mississippi Poetry Society – All That Could Have Been Award: “Barefoot”

BAREFOOT

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

As a growing child, 

I walked barefoot 

around the bonfires 

and flimsy lawn chairs.

I stepped on remnants 

of Miller Lite bottles, 

metal coat hangers. 

My feet bled rubies 

as I patched them 

from heel to little toe.

The ones who hovered 

did not tend my wounds. 

They posed for vineyards, 

polished feet atop soda-

stained coffee tables, 

lukewarm drinks in hand,

heated discussion of 2008,

elections and recessions.

Through groaning corridors,

I limped with bandages

and collected dusty books. 

I stumbled upon a dark hall,

my unamused soles rested.

I tugged at ripped armrests,

tanked ashtrays and graffiti,  

where fragile seams met

the artwork of laced stitches.

Honorable Mention - 2024 Spring Contest​

Mississippi  Poetry Society – Second Chance Award: “Astronomical Unraveling”

ASTRONOMICAL UNRAVELING

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

You had to die in a hospital bed

so I could put my curiosity to rest. 

July's spent at a cocooned lakehouse,

time slowed in spring. I sang aloud,

paced ballads for a stranger sat atop

weathered wooden planks, each frozen–

I longed to stomp the gravel, catapult

from hands of a fishtailed monsoon

after you died in a room of teals, silks. 

Now, I mold my shed skin into 

speckled confetti streamers, celebrate

departed fragments I could have been.

I plan for weekday evenings at theaters,

never pause the radio at the red lights.

I learn card games for my twin flame.  

My clenched teeth loosen grip, I drift 

to a mosaic ceiling as it sprawls apart.

Honorable Mention - 2024 Spring Contest

Mississippi Poetry Society – Shelton Couplet Award: “Woodland, Flaring”

WOODLAND, FLARING

by Alecia Gabrielle 

 

In forests lush, aligned roots spin tales untold,

where ancient wisdom weaves canopies of gold.

 

Molten thunder stains a night sky with might,

its eruptive dance, a vivid array of fierce light.

 

Yet in wisteria’s cove, time’s gentle embrace,

rain showers curl through a quieter space.

 

A dreamscape–sycamores carry secrets deep,

bridges and ash saplings howl lasting weeps.

 

Fitful earth is ablaze, what meteoric show!

A mosaic passage shatters youth's fervent glow.

 

As ciphers and junipers blend in their sigh,

embers settle far below the illuminated sky.

What ever could a home be if not the taste of overgrown honeysuckles and the overcast of chosen magnolias.

Published Books

Afterglow Effect
man-made motion sickness
When You're Stuck In Traffic

Follow @poetrybyalecia

Get in Touch

Connect with Alecia Gabrielle regarding poetry readings, book signings, speaking engagements, or other inquiries.