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Results (18)
AL
(Poetry)
17-11-2004
by Daniel Brophy
Descending the brick stairs,
Hearing the sirens in the rain,
Men and women running with cell phones
To catch the train.
The wafting whiff of urine,
The pigeons pecking at pop corn kernals
Graffiti in the cracks claiming CLASS WAR,
A...
ART
(Poetry)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Art. ART. aRt. Art. ART. Does it matter where or what the source is? A world of contradistinctive Cultures, traditions practiced unknown to our eyes, methods of Creation, Reasons and Beliefs for Image and Idea and Moment.
Do we all draw from...
Artists
(Poetry)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Artists just feel there way through Darkness,
imperfection, graffiti-tunnels, the blindness of painting,
without reason, without plan, being taken by the wind,
wherever it may lead they follow no fixed rules, use random tools,
all around...
Basquiat
(Opinions)
20-12-2005
by Daniel Brophy
I’ve seen about a handful of Jean-Michel Basquiat’s paintings on two separate occasions. ART/In Word Only was a Basquiat retrospective in the Lower East Side of New York. His journals were displayed under thick glass and stained by his own blood,...
Bill
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Why are the best things in art and life so hard to find? Some days I will walk, my laces untied, my stringy-ripped jeans, my unshaved face and I will have this desire to look. Look for what, you might ask. Look for the questions or the answers...
BILL
(Short Story)
20-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Why are the best things in art and life so hard to find? I sometimes wonder if I am to look. Some days I will walk, my laces untied, my stringy-ripped jeans, my unshaved face, and I will have this desire to look, look for what you might ask, look...
Captain
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
These are words written for a man named Richard Paul Balandis, homeless for 27 years in my town of Rahway.
I read them to him in the cafe coffee shop, with its foggy windows and crumbs of doughnuts on the ground; ringed stains on the tables;...
Communication
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
When we paint, we wish to communicate something. Our Life? A Civil Rights Act in the 60's? A devastating moment for all of humanity in history, which connects the work with universal emotions? Ancient Greek Mythology and how we interpret it in our...
Healing
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
As I descended the steps of the train station as I often do and turn the corner to enter the red brick tunnel, the tunnel that warns with sheet metal signs SLEEPING FORBIDDEN, I came to a man who opened his crusty lips and in a low hoarse tone...
His Blue Irish Eyes
(Short Story)
21-10-2004
by Daniel Brophy
His blue Irish eyes, watered and wrinkled from those damn Winstons, looking out, looking aged, he awakes again, sitting on the edge of his bed, his long gray and white chest hairs climbing up his neck like an ivy vine on the side of an old Irish...
Homelessness
(Opinions)
24-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
What is it that we think when we see a homeless man sleeping on a bench with a grocery bag at his feet, stagnant before the slapdash society? Maybe he wears a quill-face, thorn-like-whiskers in the raw air of the night. You know he is alive...
Homelessness. Poverty. Hunger.
(Opinions)
20-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Can you see this image? A garbage can, two children on top of it,one is having his diaper changed and the other is having his shoe tied, giving his mother a difficult time, grabbing her hair and wiggling his foot.
They wait for the bus, the...
Lamont
(Poetry)
18-11-2004
by Daniel Brophy
LaMoNt
Lamentable Lamant, look, there.
Past the trauma and torment, lift thy head.
Can you see the beauty glare, yes, so fare!
Grace given to thee, the truth to be fed.
"This morn'n my mama said, Thee I hate."
Fulfilled failure, frozen...
Poetry
(Opinions)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
With some grapes, carrots, peanuts and
cashews, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and some water, my sister Jess and I were off to the Once-every-Two-Year Poetry Festival. We were taken to a place outside of the City, outside and far away from...
Stage
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
The hour is near. You know – the hour when behind the black branches the sparrows fly into the gray sky, landing on the dripping telephone wires above, crumbs and worms and gummy bears in their mouths, and myself there sitting, thinking, ‘what am...
Trance
(Poetry)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
It is humid here, producing a heat-wave trance in me. I do not mind the heat, I love the heat. I love to drip with sweat, the swelling of my pores, the glaze, the shine on a woman's leg or forearm or neck. When I walk I swipe the people that I...
Trespasser
(Short Story)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
Today with my sister Jessica's camera, 35 mm, I walked downtown to snap a few shots of the overcast dreary mood of the day; a falling mist on and off; a dusty mud in between the wood of the train tracks; faces hidden behind New York Times; and...
Yes
(Poetry)
15-11-2005
by Daniel Brophy
The time of Virgins and Martyrs
and Monks and Bishops
and Prophets and Drunkards
and Prostitutes and Addicts
and She-Males and Roller Bladers
and Stroller Mothers and Old men with canes
and Fragrance Vendors ... has come.
It is...
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