Open Access. Powered by Scholars. Published by Universities.®
- Keyword
-
- Poem (46)
- Art (42)
- Prose (24)
- Short story (17)
- Artwork (14)
-
- Poetry (13)
- Photography (12)
- Illustration (7)
- Cartoon (2)
- China (2)
- Humor (2)
- Notre Dame (2)
- Paris (2)
- Untitled (2)
- 016.JPG (1)
- 1 a.m (1)
- 7.0 Day (1)
- A Cautionary Tale (1)
- A Mexican in Metropolis (1)
- Adam Carolla (1)
- Ale 2 (1)
- Ale 4 (1)
- Alone Tonight (1)
- An Untitled Pantoum (1)
- Another's Plate (1)
- Artist (1)
- Ashland Creek (1)
- Attached To Me (1)
- Autumn (1)
- Avignon (1)
Articles 121 - 150 of 172
Full-Text Articles in Art and Design
Being Blond, Audrey Curtis
Being Blond, Audrey Curtis
The Tuxedo Archives
The vast majority of people have hair, and, however they choose to cut, color, or style it, it's always there, on top of their head (and frequently hanging off onto the sides). For me, my hair is always present in a much more vividly apparent way than is true of most people, for I am blond. ~excerpt from short story
Outskirts Of Berlin, November 18, 1949, Jackson Wayne
Outskirts Of Berlin, November 18, 1949, Jackson Wayne
The Tuxedo Archives
Were almost there, sir”, said the young uniformed driver. There was not much to say from the man in the back of the jeep. He was very quiet with and had aviator’s shades covering his eyes. Unlike the driver, the man in the back did not have on an army uniform or even look presentable or even dressed for the weather. Only a Hawaiian aloha print shirt and khaki slacks barely seemed to shield him from the cruel winter breeze. As they came upon their destination the driver reached over to give the man a green field jacket. ~excerpt from …
When It Becomes His Gun, Jennie Lillard
When It Becomes His Gun, Jennie Lillard
The Tuxedo Archives
It’s not dead. Ok. Ok. Dad says: If the bird’s not dead, be ready with another shell if it decides to
take to the air. If I can get to it, put the bird on the ground, and smash it--smash it right on the neck--with
the butt of the gun. ~excerpt from short story
Sight, Allysa Miranda
Sight, Allysa Miranda
The Tuxedo Archives
The sun beat down on the small suburban park in which all the local children spent their summers. Their laughter rang out among the trees and trickling brook that surrounded the minute playground. The cement path that wound its way around the child-size structures was lined with park benches, all desperately in need of a new paint job. These benches were filled with the mothers and babysitters forced to sit waiting for their charges to finally tire and be ready to lay down for their naps. ~excerpt from short story
Kitchen Poem #4, Lauro Vasquez
Kitchen Poem #4, Lauro Vasquez
The Tuxedo Archives
I like to chase you around the kitchen
treading your footsteps like the
tracks of a seagull marking my way
to your shores because it is then
that your feet become the loveliest ~excerpt from poem
To The Untouchables, Lauro Vasquez
To The Untouchables, Lauro Vasquez
The Tuxedo Archives
to those who’s name or place
of origin is known by no one
to those who’s bullet-ridden blood
polluted deserts and kitchens ~excerpt from poem
I Want To Remember, Mariel E. Valerio
I Want To Remember, Mariel E. Valerio
The Tuxedo Archives
I want to remember
crawling into bed beside you
the way I remember
reading a poem aloud for the first time. ~excerpt from poem
Tell The Children: No Talking At The Dinner Table, Vanessa Leung
Tell The Children: No Talking At The Dinner Table, Vanessa Leung
The Tuxedo Archives
Tell the children no talking at the dinner table
Ivory chopsticks striked down to sever unfinished
Articulations, into pieces of broken syllables.
All not knowing what malice they had inflicted,
Hurried with their sustenance and scattered
Behind walls. Try to make amends
In uncertain ways. Promise
No talking back, nor back-talking. ~excerpt from poem
108 Double Stitches, Robert D. Johnson
108 Double Stitches, Robert D. Johnson
The Tuxedo Archives
So tightly I’m wound,
I recoil when struck.
Compressed like a spring.
I’m constantly fondled,
Examined and lifted on high.
A pale white complexion,
red lines all over my face. ~excerpt from poem
Fellow Traveler, Steve Galiani
Fellow Traveler, Steve Galiani
The Tuxedo Archives
Gather round, be present!
Listen to words granted me
(presumptuous vessel)
by the muse. ~excerpt from poem
Vocation, Steve Galiani
Vocation, Steve Galiani
The Tuxedo Archives
daybreak finds me
the freshest of flowers
dew-soaked, opening slowly
to the lighting sky. ~excerpt from poem
We Are Horses, Aijuana Bifri
We Are Horses, Aijuana Bifri
The Tuxedo Archives
To read and to write is to breathe and to live and to eat and to drink
to sustain my life
when the pen and the pad and the life you had are put on stage
and on the mic
I need to read I need to write and over and over ~excerpt from poem
The Belly, Aijuana Bifri
The Belly, Aijuana Bifri
The Tuxedo Archives
The Star-Spangled Banner plays and I don’t have my hands on my heart
next thing I know, I hear,
“You anti-American immigrant leech
if you don’t like America, why don’t you leave?
if you don’t like America, why don’t you go home?
you’ve talked shit about this country
expressing your pain in this country
aren’t you thankful we serve you in this country?
all you do is take money from this country
you ungrateful...” ~excerpt from poem
Better Than Grey, Tanya Tsikanovsky
Better Than Grey, Tanya Tsikanovsky
The Tuxedo Archives
Our words slide off our tongues like marbles on wet floors,
too wet to stop gliding
And we soak up our thoughts like sponges,
wringing out the water we both now taste ~excerpt from poem
Jack Apple And Blanche Cream, Annette Lust
Jack Apple And Blanche Cream, Annette Lust
The Tuxedo Archives
Cook: (narrating) One afternoon, after I finished preparing dinner, an apple with rosy cheeks and a pitcher full of thick white foamy cream stood on the kitchen table.
Cuckoo: Cuckoo! Look at handsome Jack Apple and sweet Blanche Cream! ~excerpt from short story
You Will Forget You Are Even Burning, Cheramie Johnson
You Will Forget You Are Even Burning, Cheramie Johnson
The Tuxedo Archives
"There's places around here," Rego's mother told him once, outside on their front porch over coffee and tea, "where demons walk."
"Demons, then?" He was always playful, he always catered to her.
"Devils," she whispered harshly, and her skinny fingers shivered against her cigarette. ~excerpt from short story
Strange New World, Marcus Bowlus
Strange New World, Marcus Bowlus
The Tuxedo Archives
The trip between Egypt and Jerusalem had taken hours already, the environmental shielding on his sand skimmer shone a faint orange, the barren wastes flying by below were scattered with husks of tanks and bones, scorch marks still clinging to a battle field no one wanted to remember. ~excerpt from the short story
The Last Lesson, Travis Lyons
The Last Lesson, Travis Lyons
The Tuxedo Archives
Transmission sounds like it’s got maybe a day left in it before I really got to take it in. Put it off long enough now; ain’t like I’ve had any spare cash to pay for it. So now the damn thing sounds like it’s had enough. Fucking lovely. Refrigerator blew out yesterday; dropped my last light bulb while trying to replace the one in the kitchen. ~excerpt from short story
Waiting, Alexis Brown
Waiting, Alexis Brown
The Tuxedo Archives
“Thinking about someone special?” a young woman with big round brown hazel eyes asked me as I sat waiting for my time to come. I didn’t really have anything else to think about while I sat on the old moldy looking chair inside the 36B Airport Terminal. All I could replay in my mind was the thought of my wife smiling at me when I finally got home. That is, if I ever got home. ~excerpt from short story
Gunman Slays 4 At Texas Church, Then Kills Self, Alexis Brown
Gunman Slays 4 At Texas Church, Then Kills Self, Alexis Brown
The Tuxedo Archives
They were laughing at me, I knew it. I brushed the sweat off of my brow and looked forward at the tall looming steeple that had haunted my dreams for the better part of a year. I could see their false angelic faces staring back at me, mocking me, waiting to see if I would complete my mission. ~excerpt from short story
Winter Wings, Jennifer Jensen
Winter Wings, Jennifer Jensen
The Tuxedo Archives
Aideen’s eyes glowed with envy as she watched her older sister Fia dance the Burning Dance in the center of the circle. Fia’s hair was a drifting mass of golden tendrils, and her thin, graceful limbs writhed in perfect unison with the movements of the flames. ~excerpt from short story
Jack In The Box, Laura L. Reiche
Jack In The Box, Laura L. Reiche
The Tuxedo Archives
Behold the bloodless puppet rising
out a cheap quadrangular man-hole.
Fluorescent mandarin hair forming
a deceptive heart around alabaster skin,
framing his daisy petal eyes, his pink colossal nose,
and boomerang mouth.
~excerpt from poem
Doors, Laura L. Reiche
Doors, Laura L. Reiche
The Tuxedo Archives
Staunch sentries of decision
gloating and imposing
tempting and untrustworthy. ~excerpt from poem
Dragon 04, Jennifer Jensen
Dragon 03, Jennifer Jensen
Dragon 01, Jennifer Jensen
The White Light, Michael White
Blue Man, Michael White
Blue Embrace, Michael White
Bag End, Claire Munzer