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Posts Tagged ‘peace’

Notes on Heresy

By Morgan MeisMay 15, 2018

I haven’t any major gripes with the Roman Catholic Church. On the whole, I feel gratitude. The church took me in when I needed some in-taking. Living in Detroit, however, I have found myself worshipping at Saint Anthony over on the East Side. The Mass at Saint Anthony is presided over by Bishop Karl Rodig,…

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In the Presence of My Enemies

By Richard ChessMay 10, 2018

I eat a pretzel in the presence of my enemies. (They have assembled in Charlottesville.) To be a man of men, I sip my whiskey neat in the presence of my enemies. (They march on the nightly news.) I present my failed masterpiece in the presence of my enemies. (The other painters in the juried…

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Poetry Friday: “Afternoon Swim”

By Lance LarsenFebruary 17, 2017

The play of grammar has always lured me. I’ve wondered: why do English sentences take the shape they do? So when I reached line 4 of Lance Larsen’s “Afternoon Swim”—with its bold announcement that he was switching from second person to first—I was hooked. Play with grammar is this poem’s medium. I laughed out loud…

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The Prophet of Uninterrupted Complaint

By Elizabeth DuffyMay 23, 2016

I am grateful for deadlines, even when I have little time, or only brief windows of it, which I often manage to fill with reading the Internet. I know my cannons will fire, because they must, but lately I’ve experienced a sort of brain-fatigue, or perhaps it’s peace (I don’t really know the difference), that’s…

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Wonder Woman, Flying, Part 1: Transcendent Hope

By Brad FruhauffOctober 1, 2015

It’s one of my favorite images of Diana of Themyscira, a.k.a. Wonder Woman: her proud, bold body fills the page as she soars across a pink sunset, arms spread wide like a diver, her legs not straight but slightly askew as if skipping on the air. As someone who never had much use for comics,…

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Taming the Busy Trap

By Allison Backous TroyAugust 14, 2015

My wedding and a move from Michigan to Wyoming have filled my summer with enough checklists and tasks to keep me running around until one in the morning, until I finally put myself to bed, the set of tomorrow’s tasks stuttering in my ear while I try to sleep.

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Recovering Together

By Allison Backous TroyApril 2, 2010

My father is a sophisticated kind of guy. When I visit his house, he lines the guest bed with red satin sheets that he picked up from the dollar store. He has never been rich. But that never seems to stop him. “You’re never too poor for a little style, Red,” he tells me, setting…

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