Poetry Commons^™

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 …

The Lady And The Sin, Carolyn Finn

Manuscripts

The fire burned brightly in the gloomy room, and a November rain beat drearily against the high windows. The guests were held in a strange hypnosis by the atmosphere of the hour, and none challenged the old man's statement. They waited, expectantly, knowing that some story must follow, and after a moment it did.

Le Havre---November 1945, Charles Delporte

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Sonnet For Christmas Eve, George Coffin

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

The Rose, Patty Lewis

Manuscripts

Making sure the baby was asleep and that dinner was doing as well as could be expected, she crossed the dreary room another time to see if she could see Jim coming up the street. On her way to the window, she snapped on a light, hoping it would reach into the dark corners of the room until the ugly blackness there disappeared. But though the uncovered bulb glared brightly, it served only to make the garish furnishings more distasteful than ever.

Poems, Allyn Wood

Manuscripts

Includes:

EQUINOX: WIND AND TREES

and

AFTER EQUINOX

Pictures At An Exhibition, George Fullen

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

The Damnation Of Grandfather, George Fullen

Manuscripts

Johnny had squeezed himself tightly into a corner of the back seat of the car. He wanted to feel all alone with his grief. And he was a little angry because he felt SO bad and still could not cry. The old farmhouse looked cold and lonely as they approached it. The trees were barren, and the entire landscape was dirty and grey. No breeze lifted a fallen leaf or stirred a dead weed. There were many cars gathered under the massive old oak tree - more cars than johnny could ever remember seeing there, even for a family dinner. …

Fourteen Lines Rimed In Quiet Desperation, George Coffin

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

The Old Fool, Carl Henn

Manuscripts

FOUR rose bushes bloomed in the casual garden that spread in the back yard of the Lascelle home. Old Mrs. Lascelle did not care much about the other things that grew there; all other flowers seemed to lack something when she saw them next to the rich, red roses that had the most beautiful smell on earth; all other flowers looked a little faded compared to her roses.

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Volume 15, Issue 1: Full Text

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Samplings

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

A Pasture At Twilight, Gloria Novak

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Poker Club, Harry Ames

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Ward Number Ten, John H. Spears

Manuscripts

Most of the men on ward ten had been brought in the evening before. They were engaged in adjusting themselves to another hospital of the chain of field, evacuation and general hospitals stretched around the globe...

Havana Whisky Run, G. Udell

Manuscripts

Part of my period of service was spent with the Army Air Forces Air Transport Command. The mission of the Air Transport Command was explained somewhat by its name. We transported anything and practically everything which had to be delivered in a hurry to some place on one of our many battle fronts. Our personnel strength was maintained at a very high level because of the fact that we were called upon to transport almost unlimited amounts of cargo at unscheduled times. Naturally, our entire group was rarely if ever functioning all at the same time, and so there were …

Developing Composition In Photography, Charles Shaw

Manuscripts

Most amateur photographers will approach the subject of composition with fear and trembling. Probably the necessity for it in pictures has been stressed to the amateur since that first day he took his first picture, but a coherent grasp of the subject has eluded him. However, good composition is like good taste, based on simple principles and common sense.

Island Magnificent, Ed Lewis

Manuscripts

The smooth, turquoise waves of the Pacific come speeding up the even coral runways and fling themselves, as if filled with exhaustion, on the glistening white sands of the beach. Graceful palm trees, pregnant with coconuts, stride down to the water's edge and cast their shadowy silhouettes on the blue glass of the lagoon.

July Comes To Hope, Betty Blades

Manuscripts

There aren't many towns smaller than Hope. It's just about as small as a town can be and still be called a town, but it is typically Hoosier from the top of the shiny silver water tower to the green tufts shooting through the cracks in the sidewalks around the Square. It lies in an area of large, prosperous farms just south of the point where a small meandering creek called Haw-creek crosses State Road 9. The town is surrounded by rich pastures and tall, golden corn fields, with an occasional wood lot dotting the landscape.

Charley: Child Of Fate, William T. Edwards

Manuscripts

CHARLEY was getting on in years when I met him. We took the same plane to Whitehorse where we were to work on the construction of a refinery, and there we were both assigned to the same crew of electricians...

The Old Soldier, George Fuller

Manuscripts

The old soldier asks very little from the world.

He fought and died

And asks only to be free

To choose his private drive,

To determine its length and breadth,

And to enforce his own speed.

And then he laughs at his own absurdity.

Meeting, Mitzi Graham

Manuscripts

I was waiting for a train when I saw them-the young woman and the child. They were standing just a little a~art from the others as if they were a little shy-perhaps, a little frightened. Two petite red bows clung precariously to the ends of two ash blond pigtails that protruded at a rakish angle from under the child's bonnet. Her pixy face and heavily lashed blue eyes were shining with excitement.

A Mirror For Students, George E. Traylor

Manuscripts

STUDENTS in universities and colleges are there for many reasons. To get an education in its broadest sense is too often not chief among these reasons. Sometimes it is possible to determine the purpose a student has for being in college in a matter of minutes, and in other cases, close association with the student must be maintained over a long period of time before it is possible to determine what his aims and expectations are with relation to his college life. Often students are not certain within their own minds just what reasons they have for being in school. …

Lost Goal, Joann-Lee Johnson

Manuscripts

I explored the caverns of my mind;

The chambers of my soul.

Hoping to find a single path

Leading to my goal.

Smart Fly, Donald H. Emrich

Manuscripts

SLOWLY and carefully I studied the signature sprawling lazily across the bottom of the page in grandiose style, so typical of Latin penmanship. Brushing aside an inquisitive fly, I reread the note and pondered at length upon its awkward phrasing. "Yes," I said, at last addressing the buzzing marauder, :'Carlos is licking his wounds, all right." It was all between the lines, his strained gaiety, a vain attempt to disguise the frustration, the bitter disappointment that was gnawing at his heart. Of course, the question that persisted in bothering me was whether his simple melancholy was justifiable. From the sidelines …

Flight 501, George Fullen

Manuscripts

THE African sun was excessively brilliant and hot as Jack and I struggled toward the Operations Buildings, carrying his bulging and unwieldy barracks bag between us. We dropped the bag in front of the unlovely red building with a gasp of relief. Jack mopped his face and tugged at the necktie which he was so unaccustomed to wearing. "I'm damned if I don't choose a cool day the next time I leave North Africa," he said. "You're luckier than me," I said. "It'll certainly be a cold day in July when I leave this place."

Schizophrenia, George Fullen

Manuscripts

In a slattern country of pond and paradox,

He is a stem resisting the most violent winds,

But whose dead roots prevent the flow of the sap of life;

He is a sterile reed standing in fertile soil.

Alan Takes A Wife, Marjorie Little

Manuscripts

THE Dobbinses never had seemed to belong to Wayneboro society. Their children had always been my biggest problems in grade school, and scarcely a year went by that I didn't gain a new Dobbins while I still had one to cope with. Some of them could not help being problem children. They should not have come to school at all, for I didn't have either the time or the training to help their slow moving minds. Others seemed bright enough, but they were indifferent to school and left it any time a better occupation offered itself, perhaps to work in …

The Ant-Hill, Joann-Lee Johnson

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.