Listen to her CD “Defying Gravity,” and you’re left with the impression that Cheryl Wheeler has poetry in her bones. An intensity of emotion oozes out of autobiographical lyrics. But attend one of her shows, and you wonder if you’ve just encountered the ghost writer for Bill Maher’s and Rosie O’Donnell’s stand-up routines.

Cheryl Wheeler will perform Thursday, Nov. 15, at the Ramada Inn and Convention Center in Lewiston, courtesy of L/A Arts and local business sponsors. The showtime is 7:30 p.m., and advanced tickets are $19 for seniors and students, and $23 regular price. They can be purchased by phone at 782-7228 or online at www.laarts.org.

“Her recordings are probably the least effective way to her,” said Tony Gottlieb, Wheeler’s manager in Nashville. “If you go to one of her shows, she is a wonderful master of pulling people’s emotions back and forth across a live audience.”

Wheeler has made a name for herself through her songwriting over the past couple of decades. Performing artists such as Garth Brooks, Dan Seals, Bette Midler and Kathy Mattea have covered Wheeler’s songs. But as audiences discover Wheeler’s biting commentary on contemporary life and current events, she has developed a dedicated fan base.

“There is an avid group of people who chatter and follow her,” said Gottlieb. “In the past, she has had more success as a songwriter in the mainstream sense. But in her own world, the world that she lives in, she has had huge success as a performer.”

Samples of Wheeler’s rants on American society can be heard only on stage when she sings “Dubya Dubya” to the Kingston Trio’s hit “Louie Louie.” The message is clear that Wheeler thinks Dubya needs to go. Then there’s her take on cell phones, guns and religion. “Your God” pulls no punches when it comes to attacking Catholics, Protestants and Muslims. In other songs, Wheeler gives Ghandi and Buddha a little slack.

Now 56, living in Massachusetts where she and her partner could legally marry, Wheeler has always been a voice against convention and authority, said Gottlieb. She grew up in Maryland where her father was a superintendent of Baltimore schools. Even then, her father worried what would become of her, said Gottlieb.

But Wheeler has obviously found her place. Her Web site makes the proud declaration that she has never had a “day job,” although she needs to sit while she performs because her knees have started to ache from so many years of performing.

Put aside Wheeler’s acidic humor and you find yourself enjoying a good sit with her. She has a long playlist of songs that reach into your heart to find unrequited love or a childhood memory, or that single magic moment in the New England countryside.

Wheeler probably falls best into the category of contemporary folk, alongside the likes of Melissa Ethridge and Tracy Chapman. Her many recordings, either by herself or other artists, attest to the poetry and artistry of Wheeler. But her shows are closer to a cabaret than a “Kum Ba Yah” fest.