Poetry Commons^™

Beforemath, Karolyn Gould

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NElL placed the clay pipe between his lips assuming what he imagined was a casual pose-- the pipe slipped lop-sidedly to the corner of his mouth and he tasted a few bitter perfumed drops of soap water which had remained in its stem. He removed the pipe from his mouth with a quick gesture and glanced over the high hedge to the yard next door.

Abstract, Mary Alice Kessler

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FOUR stripes of no color books, two pieces of dust, an old gray head, a bloated cactus flung into a frame of big library in big city in big world. This is the portrait, the scalding drop of life--the story behind the story behind the story, the unuttered idea behind the gesture. It was unusually cold for October. He hadn't ever remembered such a cold October. It hadn't been this cold before October was called October. But now it was cold and he wanted to know more l)bout the cereus cactus.

The Cat And The Cricket, Barbara Park

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SHE ordered another bourbon and water, and watched the cat play with the cricket. How odd to see a cat playing with a cricket in the corner of a cocktail lounge! But then, it wasn't a very respectable cocktail lounge. John wouldn't approve of it, nor would he approve of her being there alone at four o'clock in the afternoon. John didn't approve of a good many things she did. But, good heavens, why think about John? That was past--c'est fini!

Our House, Allyn Wood

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I have left my wife in the village to arrange for the rental of a rowboat, and to find shelter for our car which no longer is of use, while I go ahead to open the house. It is strange to be out under sky again; to think that as a biologist, working on the elements of life, I am so long absent from life that others know unquestioningly. The experiment is behind, and summer ahead, to rest and arrange my notes without interruption in the house we have leased atop the cliff by the sea.

Return To Beauty, Glenn Fisher

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It was pretty tough to come back and find the folks all gone and Diane married to someone else. Nothing seemed to matter any more. There had been a time when the lazy little town had been very dear to me, but now it depressed me. I was empty inside, as if I'd never be able to feel again. It wasn't altogether the town's fault or the fact that things had changed, it was more that I had lost a certain something inside I couldn't define. Anyway, I wasn't happy-I knew that.

Front Matter

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No abstract provided.

Volume 14, Issue 2: Full Issue

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No abstract provided.

The Last Word, The Editor

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No abstract provided.

The Ageless Mystery, Clyde Steckel

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The qualities of changelessness and everlastingness ascribed to God by man have not always been ascribed to him. The idea of God has grown, matured, and developed as the human mind has progressed, beginning with a narrow family or tribal deity and becoming a universal omnipresence. There are two reasons why these narrow conceptions of God have existed through the years.

Awakening, Lulu A. Conn

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When consciousness first reaches out to bring us from our drifting cloud of sleep, it is like the sunlight upon the floor of a woods, dancing in patterns of sparkling happiness, now and then arrested by a shadow of seriousness.

Next Summer, John O'Drain

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To others it is just an old-fashioned garden, along the bus route, but to me it is a nostalgic symbol. Every time I pass, memories of another garden filter into consciousness. A garden bordered with iris plumes of varied hues and perfumed with art elusive fragrance appears. An old lady is bent over a bloom of exceptionally delicate shade. She straightens slowly saying, "Lovely, isn't it, John?" Her hands are gnarled and dirty, her dress black and shapeless, but her smile makes you overlook all else.

Magical Gold, Joann-Lee Johnson

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No abstract provided.

Drowning, P. M. Coffey

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Up and down I went, slowly. I could see the women's legs hanging in the water from a log. I was only four, but I knew something was wrong. The water was a pretty bluish-green color and very quiet, except for the air bubbles that came out of me and the splash of the legs kicking in the water.

Analysis Of "R.U.R.", Robert Bowles

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(The analysis of RUR by Robert Bowles is printed as an example of what is being done in Freshman Composition classes in the form of analysis. We believe that this is a superior illustration of a review of the important work by Capek.)

Interlude At Dawn, Rex Van Trees

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Joey, Minnie Wilson's little black rooster, ended his raucous greeting to the new day and began to strut proudly about the back yard, pausing only to preen the glossy feathers of his neck or to peck at some nearly invisible object on the ground.

The Night Scrubwoman, Joann-Lee Johnson

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No abstract provided.

The Sea, Roger Chittick

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A silent yearning for the sea lies deep within me. Sometimes it even seems that I can hear the surf foaming in my ears; and that joyful, lilting freedom that comes with the sea seems to permeate my whole being.

God's Will, Alan Markum

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Infamous entity of the earth

Indifference of matter and existence both Mankind in penance would cry unto the skies

The Dark Curtain, William T. Edwards

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It was dark and cold. He didn't mind the cold So much; he was nearly accustomed to that. But the darkness was something else. The darkness concealed things, and there was the danger. It was odd, he was thinking, that the artillery didn't throw in a few flares to light it up a bit out front. Maybe Intelligence didn't Chink it necessary, but sometimes they were wrong. Remember the Bulge? The l06th never knew what hit it. The darkness was oppressive and suffocating. It occurred to him that he would like to cut out a handful of this darkness and …

Poetry Corner, Verse Forms Class

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No abstract provided.

Great Books Discussion On Artistotle's Politics

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(We are pleased to present a transcript of a recent Great Books meeting conducted by Dr. Clide Aldrich and Dr. Clarence Efroymson. Betty Cramer, Sue Higginbotham and Nancy Dye, members of the Advanced Shorthand Class, took the transcript. The contents of the discussion on Aristotle's Politics have been condensed.)

Free Enterprise, Jim Sullivan

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The Veterans Administration had given me an unusually fast job. It had only taken them eleven day s short of a year to get around to giving me the dental examination I had requested. I seated myself in a chair in the dentist's reception room and picked up a magazine.

Autobiography Of The Late J. Harrison Peabody, Richard H. Jowett

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WHY I am walking today I do not know and bleached rain stained stones are rough against my feet but I am calling on a friend he sits in a tower and to him come men with questions come the people yes to ask him what he says...

To A House That Is Loved, Verse Forms Class

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No abstract provided.

Atlantis, The Lost Continent, Judy Johnston

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(We are printing Miss Judy Johnston's complete source theme The Lost Island of Atlantis, not only because of its universal interest, but also because of the aid it may offer to those students who are preparing work along the same lines. We recommend it as interesting, informative reading.)

Vincent Van Gogh's Personal Possession, Bill Dewitt

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I am an amatuer artist, so when I was in Arles in southern France, it was nat­ural. for me to want to see all the places thereabouts that the famous Dutch painter Vincent van Gogh had been concerned with when he lived there in 1888.

Not Very Much, George W. Coffin

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MAGGIE Malone tucked number in t 0 her shabby purse and goodby to Dominic. Each evening he gave her a ride home from the department store where she worked as a seamstress in the alterations room. Tonight, Dominic had sold her a quarter chance in a pool sponsored by the Italian churches of the city; he had sold the chances all along his vegetable route. At first Maggie argued that she just couldn't afford it. Why, she was behind on her rent as it was, and if it weren't for the kindness of old Mrs. Ruben, she'd be without a …

Night Town, Lost Time, Louise Retherford

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No abstract provided.

"Noon Edition", Richard J.O. Greene

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NANNY Martin sprawled against the corner of the building and stared directly into the brilliance of the street light. He felt like crying - the champagne had made him feel like crying, and the little gold statue in his hand made him feel like crying.

Sanctuary, Rosemary Ronsheim

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HAVING wished for a moment that the pink heat behind the isingless door would him instead of burning the sales of his shoes, the boy jumped to his feet. He had pressed hard against the short, iron skirt of the round stove and the burning leather vias scorching. At the same time, Mr. Dorty had called "Sixty." Mr. Dorty was night operator for the District Telegraph Company, and the boy was "Number 60 of the DTC." The operator instructed him to go to "325" for a message. No time was lost in putting on a coat, since this was an …