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Articles 61 - 90 of 1340
Full-Text Articles in Poetry
Naming Southwest Oklahoma, Molly Sizer
Naming Southwest Oklahoma, Molly Sizer
Westview
Young Andrew Carnegie invested years steeling money; in his old age, he built imposing music halls on the east coast and libraries in rural towns out west.
The Choice Is Mine, John Grey
The Choice Is Mine, John Grey
Westview
I wear mismatched clothes, fill the sink with dirty dishes, sit and watch football on the TV until all hours
Lampyridae, Donna Emerson
Lampyridae, Donna Emerson
Westview
As I walk down the June steps of the farmhouse, fireflies flash close to my face.
Commemorate, Nan Byrne
Commemorate, Nan Byrne
Westview
We learn by losing The dead—first one becomes many The truth we knew becomes the truth we suffered
Doughboy And Jenny, Donna L. Emerson
Doughboy And Jenny, Donna L. Emerson
Westview
Our summer horses, five-gaited warm-bloods. Alert, easy to ride.
Green, Richard Dinges Jr.
Green, Richard Dinges Jr.
Westview
Green is cool to gaze into, woods strangled in undergrowth
Part One, Diane Glancy
Rains, James B. Nicola
Rains, James B. Nicola
Westview
One kind of rain wears moccasins and comes in quiet as a ghost then leaves your cheeks-nose-forehead moist with an unremarked kiss.
Summer Thunderstorm, Richard Dinges Jr.
Summer Thunderstorm, Richard Dinges Jr.
Westview
A cold pierce, bolts crack sky’s lids, a brief glimpse at eternity
Contributors, Westview Staff
Birds Of Light, Jack Cooper
Birds Of Light, Jack Cooper
Westview
Autumn streams of rain hit the maple tree and red and yellow leaves wing off in all directions
Drifting, Nan Byrne
Festina Lente, Jack Cooper
Festina Lente, Jack Cooper
Westview
I once laid a stone path in the yard and unearthed a spadefoot toad in hibernation
Here And Now, Dennis Ross
Here And Now, Dennis Ross
Westview
Driving along an Iowa gravel road I am sometimes jolted wide awake as from a forever sleep, struck by the immediacy of the world,
Hometown, Kenneth Beck
Hometown, Kenneth Beck
Westview
My hometown is a monochrome. Pack rats on every block with vintage Whatever-you-have from whatever-year.
Human Rib Bone, $10, Shiann Dawson
Human Rib Bone, $10, Shiann Dawson
Westview
A little gift shop, nestled into a house of death Filled with…well, Trinkets, mostly.
Imperfect English Composition, Anne Babson
Imperfect English Composition, Anne Babson
Westview
Thesis: While in love, no matter what my mother says about the milk for free, I have discovered that he is prose, not sonnet. While having sterling qualities, he is not perfect. Remind the reader that no one is. Remind self.
Interactive Sonnet, James B. Nicola
Interactive Sonnet, James B. Nicola
Westview
This is the place where I’m supposed to say a thing I have to say, and soundly, then expound upon it like a pregnant hen with fourteen eggs she cannot help but lay.
Ire Man, James B. Nicola
Irises Planted On A Grave, Gordon Grice
Irises Planted On A Grave, Gordon Grice
Westview
The irises lick the wind with fragrant tongues…
New Barista, Dennis Ross
New Barista, Dennis Ross
Westview
She moves like a half-grown colt, all legs and skinny arms…
On Wings, Richard Dinges Jr.
On Wings, Richard Dinges Jr.
Westview
Each day, more flies descend and buzz my porch. I bathe.
Part Ii, Diane Glancy
Prayers Coagulate Around A Woman On Her Porch, Henry D. Goldkamp
Prayers Coagulate Around A Woman On Her Porch, Henry D. Goldkamp
Westview
Southern static : pink tongue : dewy ears : seagulls yelling Wal-Mart
Princesses, Donna L. Emerson
Princesses, Donna L. Emerson
Westview
First grade girls are deciding who’s a princess. They say I’m not one.
Promise, Jack Cooper
Promise, Jack Cooper
Westview
Her hands looked old boney and bruised but her face young her cheeks blushed her eyes wandering
Skippings Rocks, Chad W. Lutz
Skippings Rocks, Chad W. Lutz
Westview
There’s a place in town where the only two roads meet, marked by an old sycamore. Its bark is blotchy, and the few limbs it has left reach for the sky like the pleading arms of a dying man.
Sunday Morning, Matthew C. Brennan
Sunday Morning, Matthew C. Brennan
Westview
Back home from Kroger, I sense that something’s terribly wrong: five squad cars flashing red cordon the street, and yellow tape extends from a fencepost to a worksite shed across from us.
The Pie Lady, Shiann Dawson
The Yellow Porch Swing, Aimee Klein
The Yellow Porch Swing, Aimee Klein
Westview
The smell of honeysuckle carried on a breeze the soft squeak