Poetry Commons^™

"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 …

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.

Mitosis (The Second Lesson In Botany), Alma Miller

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

They Will Do It Every Time, Donald Goben

Manuscripts

To relax in a large, comfortable chair and listen to soft music after a long day's work is my idea of heaven on earth. Each evening I arrive home tired, dirty, and rather ill-humored. After washing and cleaning up a little, I settle down in my easy chair and turn on the little push-button radio.

Many Are Called, Patricia Hanley

Manuscripts

Once upon a time there lived a wise king whose only family was his son. When this boy became of proper age to marry, the king thought for many hours upon the kind of wife he should pro cur for him. At last he called together all his most trusted knights and said to them, "I want you each to bring to me the most mannerly maiden you can find."

Wendell Willkie, Francis Talkington

Manuscripts

Wendell Willkie was a liberal man and a man with a great American spirit...

Two Literary Immortals, Diann Deweese

Manuscripts

Around the first quarter mark of the nineteenth century two writers struggled for existence and recognition.

Vermeer, Shirley Mcveigh

Manuscripts

Have you ever heard of Vermeer? Probably not. Neither had I until two years ago this Christmas, when I received a book with that one name on the front. The book was then a gift, but it is now .a treasure; for within its covers are reproductions of forty-four of the finest paintings the world has ever seen, the paintings of a man named Vermeer.

The Engulfed Cathedral, Joanne Viellieu

Manuscripts

"The Engulfed Cathedral" is one of Claude Debussey's most beautiful works of impressionism. Inspired by an ancient Breton legend, it tells its story simply but with the most gorgeous effects.

Headless Horsemen, Doris Colligan

Manuscripts

As I look around my room in this practical, unimaginative daylight, I can yet feel the terror and see the awful spirits which peopled it on moonlit nights long ago in my childhood imagination.

The moonlight, which must filter through the broad leaves of the sycamore outside my window and penetrate the draperies before it reached my bedroom, gave only a lukewarm illumination by the time it reached its destination, for each obstacle had captured a part of its strength.

The Circe, James Joyce

Manuscripts

"The new girl"-a term catholic throughout all grammar schools -was quite pretty. Naturally, being twelve and susceptible, I promptly fell in love with her. 'It was my first affair.

...Grandma O' Mine, Doris Campbell

Manuscripts

Tart as Vinegar, sweet as cider-that is Grandma. Despite having several Score blood relations, she includes everyone on the block in her list of "acquired" relations.

My Great-Grandmother..., Lilla Adams

Manuscripts

A few years back if you could by chance have visited a certain little town in Texas and walked a mile north of the town, you might have heard the Sound of song coming across to you from what seemed to be the middle of a big wood.