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Articles 4381 - 4410 of 9616
Full-Text Articles in Creative Writing
Haitian Bitch, Sukey Lewis
Haitian Bitch, Sukey Lewis
The Tuxedo Archives
Destruction of my substructure by stressed plates,
Some voo-doo curse laid it on—deconstructing my
Already worn-out, washed-up, ruined heap some called infrastructure.
Why? Too much bad blood, buried bones.
Lost babies, lost mamas, lost—
Nothing new, but nasty all the same. ~excerpt from poem
And On The 7.0 Day, He Rested, Janelle Harris
And On The 7.0 Day, He Rested, Janelle Harris
The Tuxedo Archives
The ground merely twitched at first.
A slight hiccup really.
I thought I had tripped,
Lost equilibrium for just a moment.
The ground bellowed next.
A roar really. ~excerpt from poem
The Harbor, Stephen Dalton
The Harbor, Stephen Dalton
The Tuxedo Archives
I’ve slid across the bow,
slick with settling mist,
and dropped through the hatch
into the bunk below. ~excerpt from poem
With Death's Cousin, Pastor Bejinez
With Death's Cousin, Pastor Bejinez
The Tuxedo Archives
I see her blood relation to death, in the wrinkles of her forehead,
Yet, I want her.
Her heavy breath, lingers out, over her damp lips
And E
C
H
O
E
S
A soft invitation, through my mind.
She slowly pulls me, closer to her smooth, magazine face
With her hypnotic, inhaled breath, full of mystery. ~excerpt from poem
Another's Plate, Pastor Bejinez
Another's Plate, Pastor Bejinez
The Tuxedo Archives
She’s the mother of four
Chirping and screaming
Children.
None are his own
Though he wishes
They were. ~excerpt from poem
Nicole4, Nicole Jackson
Nicole6, Nicole Jackson
Nicole8, Nicole Jackson
Nate1, Nathaniel Ancheta
Nate4, Nathaniel Ancheta
Nate7, Nathaniel Ancheta
Zach1, Zach Moneypenny
Zach3, Zach Moneypenny
Zach4, Zach Moneypenny
Untitled, Lauren Rigor
Jhoy, Marion Sarte
Princess, Marion Sarte
Immigration Told Through Cuisine, Melissa Hughs
Immigration Told Through Cuisine, Melissa Hughs
The Tuxedo Archives
The Fortune Cookie Chronicles by Jennifer 8. Lee is a wonderful, well researched book. Lee, the daughter immigrants from China and a speaker of fluent Mandarin, began this book as a research study into the lives of people who won lotteries based on numbers found in fortune cookies. What the project turned into was a discovery of herself and her culture. Lee, whose middle initial means prosperity in Chinese, combines historical facts and the stories of immigrants, along with her experiences as the daughter of immigrants, in order tell the story of Chinese food. ~excerpt from prose
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