Poetry Commons^™

Hollywoodism, Frank Slupesky

Manuscripts

Due to recent excavations of our archeologists in the area which was known to the Americans as Southern California, we have every reason to believe that one city in this area was quite similar in materialistic splendor to the city of Babylon, which just a few thousand years before flourished in Asia Minor. Our excavators agree that this city, called Hollywood, was the center of the curious craft of motion picture making. This is a significant fact since the motion picture, rather than any other phase in American life, epitomizes the shallowness to which American culture had degenerated by the …

We Killed Some, We Loved Some, M. R. Huntzinger

Manuscripts

She certainly didn't look like the German women whom we had read about before the war. She was tiny and slim, gray and wrinkled, about five feet two inches tall and weighed about a hundred pounds. Her sparkling eyes were sharp and expressive, and she was quick, scarcely stooped and very spry for a woman of such age. Her name was Betsy Holtzendoner. She was seventy-five years old, a widow and the mother of five children.

Easter, Ruth O'Mahoney

Manuscripts

Sing with joy

He comes

He comes He comes

Dance and be gay

Reprisal, George Fullen

Manuscripts

Sam was just too tired to pay much attention to the soldier who paused at the entrance and slid his eyes over the long, low building which was a combined Post Exchange and Red Cross Club. On the side toward the ocean, numerous posts had been imbedded in the ground and round tops nailed to them to serve as tables. A sign announced that It was a beer garden. Here were gathered the worshipers of sun, sea air and beer, and not a few who found watching specks on the horizon become ships and the surf leaping high against the …

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

She Birthed Her.Pdf, Rachel Walker

Staff Publications

A woman's self reflection.

In Praise Of Mary O'Donnell, Eamon Maher

Articles

No abstract provided.

Volume 15, Issue 2: Full Text

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Articulate Flier, Evelyn Hammond

Manuscripts

Bernie Lay's flier may be inarticulate, but mine isn't. He is my cousin Gib, Gilbert Robert Hendren Browning (my family is addicted to long names), and when he isn't flying, he loves to talk about everything.

Last Laugh, Jack Fultz

Manuscripts

Co-pilot Arnold Thurber's sly, cunning eyes became mirrors of wide-eyed terror and disbelief as he watched the bomb-bay doors of the huge bomber close the last inch. With haste born of desperation, he whirled and fought madly to return to the pilot's seat. Already the huge aircraft had started to spin. Reaching the pilot's seat, he saw, with glimmering hope, that pilot John "Speed" Lawson had the salvo switch shoved back in place.

I Have Before Me A Photograph, Lester Isaacs

Manuscripts

I have before me a photograph.

Not just another picture to be looked at and casually turned aside but-

One of monumental significance.

To me--

"Sonnet 29", Grace L. Whipple

Manuscripts

Allyn Wood uses symbolism to a rather large extent, and quite effectively, I believe. We are introduced to one of the cats, with its characteristic reserve and mystery, in the first paragraph, whereby an ominous atmosphere is created. Miss Wood continues to bring in cats and more cats until we feel just as Argus did about their penetrating presence. The cat, that creature of abstract mystery, quiet ubiquity and impenetrable character, certainly symbolizes the very existence of father and son in a house made mysterious by the father's continual probing for knowledge of what is beyond mortal senses to know.

A Diagnosis Of My Compositon Illness, George Triplett

Manuscripts

"My dear fellow, complete recovery from your disease rests entirely in your hands. There isn't much we can do for you."

Religion --Rationalization Or Reason, Marion Lou Spears

Manuscripts

I believe that God exists as the creator and ruler of the' universe. r accept and uphold this belief with what r hope is near to pure rational thinking. I realize that I still hold to a few of the old concepts that I first had in childhood, but I feel that I have made great progress.

On Reading Shakespeare, D. R. Barnes

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Something Special, John Q.A. Elliot

Manuscripts

Today was to be special. It had to be. The sun through the windows of the bright reading room was a harbinger. The sun gold-edged the emerald leaves of the lilac bush. It danced across the back yard, painting small platinum flecks between the lacelike ebony shadows of the giant maples. The breeze wafted through the open windows pushing the curtains lazily inward and carrying the sweet dew damp scent of the garden into the room.

Corot And Debussey, Diana Harvey

Manuscripts

have often sensed a likeness between the art of Corot and the music of Debussey. Both men picture a dreamy, make-believe world, peopled by slender, fragile creatures, who languorously drift their way through life. They have no cause to be different, for their world itself is languorous.

Shall We Prestidigitate?, Hans Steilberger

Manuscripts

PROBABLY the most difficult task for an immigrant is the mastery of the language of his new country, especially for a European coming to the United States. Before the war thousands were able to make the voyage from restrictions and oppression to a new life in America. Unfortunately, many of them did not have the opportunity to acquaint themselves with the language of the land of their choice. As a result they faced a hard struggle when it came to settling down to the task of learning to speak in a new and entirely different tongue from the one to …

Falstaff: A Purposeful Paradox, Laura N. Hill

Manuscripts

The paradoxical Falstaff appeals to mankind at all points of their natures. The wicked find in him a bosom companion, the sedate discover a moral lesson which is pleasant in its learning, and the gay are thrilled with the pure joy of his wit. No other character in literature has embodied so many ignoble characteristics and at the same 'time produced in his readers so many sympathetic reactions.

The Whitewater Valley, Ed Lewis

Manuscripts

The main fork of the Whitewater River has its origin in the rugged hills near Laurel, Indiana. This swirling, torrid, foam-flecked stream comes pouring down out of these hills into the lowlands which form its broad basin near Metamora. When it leaves this peaceful Hoosier hamlet the stream threads its way through a series of graceful spirals until it reaches the historic little city of Brookville where it is joined by its little sister, the east fork. The path of the river, from Brookville to the spot where it empties into the Miami River near Miamitown, Ohio, leads it through …