Creative Writing Commons^™

Sketches, Donald Taylor

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

They Don't Understand, Joseph F. Workman

Manuscripts

Drink, my friend, and no longer will you suffer. Drink till you're drunk; drink till you forget you're a, Navy man; drink the Captain's commands away from your mind. Drink! Drink! Drink!

A Newspaper Office, Doris Colligan

Manuscripts

The long table down the center of the room which was devoted to the whirlpool of activity attending the publishing of a high school paper seemed to be the center of all this activity.

Pictures Of Brown County, Robert Bruner

Manuscripts

Nature's springtime awakening in Brown County sends new life and ambition into the heart of the observer. Hills and hollows join hands to make the picture complete.

Moments, Karolyn Gould

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Silhouettes, Ruth Ann George

Manuscripts

Bright lights faded into the gloom of a dimmed theater, and the crowd stirred restlessly in their seats. The orchestra's low drone came from behind the curtain, and strains of half forgotten melodies mingled with discord. The orchestra was ready. As the curtain rose, the stage lights flooded, revealing the conductor, famous musician of two continents, who was playing tonight a special concert for war relief. The light from the stage half revealed the first row, a set of faces with inscrutable eyes. The conductor, glancing briefly at this row, wondered fleetingly who these people were, what brought them to …

Brave Fool, Irving Croshier

Manuscripts

"The bravest of fools." That is what my grandmother called him. And that is the description which fitted my uncle best.

Backstage At English's, Rosemary Browne

Manuscripts

It has been my good fortune to spend many a performance backstage at English's , as well as to watch many performances from out front.

Panorama, Glenda Rose Vaughn

Manuscripts

Located in the northern part of Indianapolis, the Indiana State Fairgrounds is now an Army Air Force Depot. During the summer' a school of cadets was stationed in the 4H residence building: A high, electrified fence patrolled by aimed 'guards' "surrounds the military reservation. To facilitate handling of materia1s to be stored within the grounds, a railroad siding northeast corner. night" with 'the has been run into the Negroes labor day and aid of high-powered Ij ,\ . searchlights to unload the cars which come f~6m the depot.

Pragmatists And High School Latin, Ione Colligan

Manuscripts

Are Latin teachers and Latin texts justified in telling students that the study of Latin provides sound and practical training for understanding of the English language? Or are those modern educators correct who insist that "transfer value" for the classics is meager, that study of the Latin language has no practical value?

"All Men Are Created Equal", Joe Howett

Manuscripts

One hundred sixty-nine years ago, on July 4, 1776, a group of men drew up the document which is known today as the Declaration of Independence. These men did not meet with that end in mind. Their primary purpose in having that historical meeting was to evolve a plan whereby they might, in some way, overthrow the severe restrictions they were suffering at the hands of the British Crown. Foremost in the minds of them all was a feeling that had motivated the colonization of this hemisphere; the feeling that had instilled within them a vivid will to perpetuate a …

Rhythm At Twilight, Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

Manhattan's pulse throbs in' the twilight.

As tier light-studded avenues glow in the cool blue of dusk

She pulsates with noise. Good sounds pour from her throat,

The cough of motors,

The gurgle of laughing women,

The shout of brakes and sellers of news.

Eternal Cycle, Mary Cory

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Boy On A Bike, Betty Jo Fark

Manuscripts

Clouds of heat were sitting on the highway. There was no breeze to stir them perceptibly. The boy was hot. He wanted to keep his feet high, away from the burning sun fused in the pavement, but the motion of the bicycle pedals kept drawing them down monotonously. His hands on the rubber grips of the handlebars were sweaty and uncomfortable. Streaks down both legs of his salt and pepper wash trousers showed where he had tried to wipe away the stickiness.

"Respecttfily, Thaddeus", Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

Thad is a good man. He is old and gnarled like some dying oak tree, and about as hard to uproot and argue with as an oak tree, but Thad is a good man. The last time I saw Thad was in the fall of 1939. He stood at the end of the gravel road that leads into our hunting lodge, one bowed leg stuck up on the birch fence railing, and looked after our car. He must have been at least seventy then, for his thinning hair was white and his red beard was streaked with snow. Those blue, …

Grace, Margaret Byram

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Susie And The Red Devil, Mary Ann Moffett

Manuscripts

An odd shade of dingy red is reminiscent of summer to me, recalling the Red Devil and Susie.

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Wordsworth's Lyrical Ballads, 1800, Jason N. Goldsmith

Scholarship and Professional Work - LAS

Prelude:

IN the dense tracts of woodland that stretch south from Esthwaite Water, a young boy pauses amidst a copse of hazel. His chest heaves; his heart races. Brake, bramble, and thorn. Exhaustion and expectation gather in each breath, course through his body and deeper still into his soul. He eyes the trees, fingers the milk-white flowers that hang in clusters, and knows joy. His breathing slows. Leaves murmur in the breeze. His heart fills with kindness. Taking up the crook that lies in the long grass, he swings it wide. Petals fill the air, swirl around him like …

White Shadows: Perception And Imagination In Poetry, Madison Chartier

Undergraduate Honors Thesis Collection

In the spring of my sophomore year, I enrolled in the introductory course to writing poetry here at Butler University. I am not naturally a poet, but I have an appreciation for reading poetry and, at the time of the course, was curious to try my hand at the craft, despite having had little experience prior to the collegiate level. As may be expected, I ran into obstacles.

I enjoyed playing with language in experiments of sound and rhythm, but, despite the vast array of assonance, consonance, enjambment, and every other technique I employed, the poems I created throughout the …

Whose Truth?, Seth J. Hale

Undergraduate Honors Thesis Collection

Is objective reality verifiable or is all fact merely subjective experience? If the history of humanity has shown anything, it has shown that we are a species intent on explaining our environment and place within it. Most every philosophical pursuit is aimed at some version of this end. Mathematics and the physical sciences attempt to explain the universe by finding consistent order in the workings of nature. The social sciences attempt to explain the human race by finding consistent order in the behaviors of humans and human organizations. Literary and media studies attempt to explain the meanings that humans attach …

Sky Lifting His Skirts, Thaddeus Harmon

Graduate Thesis Collection

An imbecilic invocation uttered by glass-fingered mannequins jaggedly gesticulating forgotten ballet moves in a future where skin is optional, and computers sneeze.

Volume 12, Issue 1: Full Issue

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Vignettes

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Panorama, Betty Ann Mills

Manuscripts

The sights we saw ranged from vast stretches of beautifully colored deserts to lofty mountain peaks...

Return To Shangri La, Norma Messmer

Manuscripts

My hand groped over the weather beaten pine door for the rusty lock which would unfold our "Shangri La." Meeting no resistence from the tiny device, I proceeded blindly to feel for the light switch which would show the way for the rest of our crew. As my searching hand passed over fuses, wires, switches, and knobs, I was conscious of the "special" cabin aroma, a composition of ant' killer, mouse poison, ashes from last and the "springy" exhilarating Lake week's wiener roast, scent of the fresh, Hollybrook air.

A Strange Stable, Donita M. Evans

Manuscripts

One day while walking in Washington, D. C., at a particularly busy time of day, I turned into what I thought was an alley leading to another street. As I wandered back through the alley, I suddenly noticed that I was in a courtyard. It was a beautiful place with houses looking from two sides into the cobblestone court. There was an enormous tree growing in one corner of the yard with a circular bench built around its base. As I investigated the yard further, I found that the building directly in front of me was a stable. Discovering that …

A Winter Paradox, Betty Ferguson

Manuscripts

A blinding snowstorm was sweeping through the night, covering the dark and dreary countryside with a soft, clean blanket of feathery white crystals. The icy flakes drove earthward with an uncontrollable centripetal force...

Basement Room, William Tobin

Manuscripts

The stairway that led to the basement room, where all the actors spent their free time, was always dark. The light that was supposed to illuminate the stairs had burned out long ago. A wooden hand railing ran along the wall and served as a guide and brace for anyone who felt his way down the eleven cement steps. Once down the steps, the basement hall seemed darker than the stairs, although I hardly think it possible. At the end of the hall, shining through the blackness, was the faint outline made by the light from within as it shone, …

Chicago's Street Of Streets, Barbara Consodine

Manuscripts

Michigan Avenue is a sophisticated young lady who strolls from Roosevelt Road up toward the Gold Coast with one shoulder lowered. Across this shoulder thee sees the green beauty of the park and the masts and sails of white yachts on the blue lake.