Whiting Award Winners
Since 1985, the Foundation has supported creative writing through the Whiting Awards, which are given annually to ten emerging writers in fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and drama.
THOUGHT #3
Tyler Perry knows how to bring everything together wit all the stories? And all the singing? And all the different people talking?
THOUGHT #1
And Tyler Perry don’t never forget to bring in the spirit’ch’alities.
THOUGHT #2
‘Cause Tyler Perry loves his Mama—
THOUGHT #6
And the Lord—
THOUGHT #1
So write a nice, clean Tyler Perry-like gospel play for your parents please?
The movie is entertaining and intriguing. At four points during it I rotate my eyes to observe Rebecca. The monitor is mirrored on her glasses and behind them her eyes are very wide. Although I am a more experienced programmer, I am certain her ideas on the movie are more complex than mine.
Mountain tips soften after so much rain,
the wild guesses of birds blending with air
and the uppermost buds, with a godlike
promotion, burst open.
Especially beautiful
are the brown and drunken bats
who nosedive down the barnside,
not quite earthbroken.
Though I cannot lavish praise on stamina
alone, I must acknowledge a femme
fortitude. Last night, I tell myself,
a misstep at battery’s expense
so as to never consider the sentience
of a pleasure machine.
How her trembling must have lullabied
my drunk tongue the intricacies
of sexual decorum even in sleep,
how she may have throbbed
all night beside me, anticipating her
own reciprocal and tender invasion.
You know it too! … The charm of funerals in the rain,
the special effects men with their hoses well aimed,
huge drops exploding on
classically beautiful
black umbrellas.
You know them, -
the houses like fat vegetables
stuffed with old lace, ceramics, silverware, dust –
secure as bank vaults.
Who will inherit?
Vittorio is dining with
that Chinese actress again…
Will the kingdom be divided?
Who will keep
the chandeliers in good repair
and tend the lists of public enemies?
Spring of 1954, my mother stood at the threshold of Henry Picotte’s abandoned chicken house, a bouquet of hens dangling in either hand, and eyed the enormous prairie rattler coiled on the dirt floor. Killing the snake would be inconvenient, hampered as she was by a midterm pregnancy and the hysterical chickens swooping left and right around their new hoe, but a weapon would not have been hard to find. Stout diamond willow sticks leaned against every gatepost on the place, anywhere a man might step off a horse. Such readiness suggested an extended family of snakes, more than she wished to dwell on with her hands full of squawking chickens. Stepping back out, she hollered for my father to bring a spade.
THOUGHT #3
Tyler Perry knows how to bring everything together wit all the stories? And all the singing? And all the different people talking?
THOUGHT #1
And Tyler Perry don’t never forget to bring in the spirit’ch’alities.
THOUGHT #2
‘Cause Tyler Perry loves his Mama—
THOUGHT #6
And the Lord—
THOUGHT #1
So write a nice, clean Tyler Perry-like gospel play for your parents please?
The movie is entertaining and intriguing. At four points during it I rotate my eyes to observe Rebecca. The monitor is mirrored on her glasses and behind them her eyes are very wide. Although I am a more experienced programmer, I am certain her ideas on the movie are more complex than mine.
Mountain tips soften after so much rain,
the wild guesses of birds blending with air
and the uppermost buds, with a godlike
promotion, burst open.
Especially beautiful
are the brown and drunken bats
who nosedive down the barnside,
not quite earthbroken.
Though I cannot lavish praise on stamina
alone, I must acknowledge a femme
fortitude. Last night, I tell myself,
a misstep at battery’s expense
so as to never consider the sentience
of a pleasure machine.
How her trembling must have lullabied
my drunk tongue the intricacies
of sexual decorum even in sleep,
how she may have throbbed
all night beside me, anticipating her
own reciprocal and tender invasion.
You know it too! … The charm of funerals in the rain,
the special effects men with their hoses well aimed,
huge drops exploding on
classically beautiful
black umbrellas.
You know them, -
the houses like fat vegetables
stuffed with old lace, ceramics, silverware, dust –
secure as bank vaults.
Who will inherit?
Vittorio is dining with
that Chinese actress again…
Will the kingdom be divided?
Who will keep
the chandeliers in good repair
and tend the lists of public enemies?
Spring of 1954, my mother stood at the threshold of Henry Picotte’s abandoned chicken house, a bouquet of hens dangling in either hand, and eyed the enormous prairie rattler coiled on the dirt floor. Killing the snake would be inconvenient, hampered as she was by a midterm pregnancy and the hysterical chickens swooping left and right around their new hoe, but a weapon would not have been hard to find. Stout diamond willow sticks leaned against every gatepost on the place, anywhere a man might step off a horse. Such readiness suggested an extended family of snakes, more than she wished to dwell on with her hands full of squawking chickens. Stepping back out, she hollered for my father to bring a spade.