Featured Articles
by Carla Dodd
Jah X El is a storyteller, painter, sculptor and historian—and all with words
Book Reviews
by Carla Dodd
Anne Whitehouse (www.annewhitehouse.com) is a writer of poetry, fiction and journalism, and has worked in development for non-profit agencies. She has taught in colleges, universities, and public schools in the greater New York Metropolitan area. She is the author of the novel Fall Love and the poetry collections, The Surveyor’s Hand, Blessings and Curses, and [...]
by Carla Dodd
“This Is How I Feel: My Life In Verse” is a headlong leap into the journal of Dimonique Boyd.
Interviews
Weekly Feature: Christopher J. Dwyer by Carlton Lloyd Smith and Paquita Meseguer
Troubadour 21 is very proud to introduce Christopher Dwyer as our T21 in-house writer. He will be writing two stories a month, exclusively for T21. Christopher is a writer from Boston, Massachusetts, and his stories are beautifully written, filled with vivid images that either touch one’s heart or send chills down one’s spine. He has a special gift of being able to write in a variety of styles, either sensitive, touching love stories from a masculine perspective, or eery noir thriller stories of gore and blood that make one want to lock all doors and bolt all windows.
Weekly Feature: Lane Robbins by Carlton Lloyd Smith
This article is part of a weekly feature, highlighting one of our contributors here at Troubadour 21. It is our hope that we may give you a peek inside the lives of the artists who create the art and the poets who create the poetry you see here on the site.
Music and Theater
Shantel Bolks (A Drifter At Heart) by W.B. Burkholder
Shantel Bolks attacks the strings of her Takamine Guitar with all the skill and craft of a master that has been playing for years.
The vocals are just as masterful and her country, folk style is mesmerizing in the way she executes each and every song on this album.
Short Stories
by Jerry Guarino
“Sorry, my grandma doesn’t have a wireless signal; she has dial up.” These are two of the saddest words in the English language, along with no signal. “No wait” said Jeff, looking at his laptop. “There are three networks showing. Must be the houses around us.” Jeff tapped the pad. [...]
by Len Kuntz
My daughter’s dog glares at me from its spot in the corner of the kitchen. His nose, black and oily as the night ocean, twitches. I stuff a crust of yesterday’s leather toast in my mouth, gagging down its dryness and grab the leash.
The obese beast sets back on its haunches, going, “Oh [...]
by Jerry Guarino
Sometimes you walk right into the devil’s lair and don’t realize it until it’s too late. What may seem like a perfectly safe activity can turn into a nightmare that can last for years. We have all fallen into this trap. Thousands of messages have drugged us into the belief that this [...]
by Amanda Fiore
Chanarong crossed the border from Burma to Thailand when he was two and half years old. His mother and sister took turns carrying him on their hips. They left because the military put a bullet in back of his father’s head, and everyone was scared that they were next.
Chanarong’s only real memories of [...]
by Donal Mahoney
I met a proper woman in a proper pub on a Monday in Peoria. It was noon, time for lunch, and we were sitting stool to stool over very large burgers at a long mahogany bar. It curved in and out as if wind-swept and featured high stools with padded seats and backrests, all in [...]
Essays
by Daniela Thions-Meyer
I wanted to tell you I miss you like an old lover I never could get over. I miss your silence in the winter cold and the warmth of summer days spent in your company. I miss the laughter in your voice and the secret complicity I had with your streets. I miss the grumbling [...]
by Paula Munch
The buzzword that has Americans up in a roar these days is healthcare reform. As Barack Obama has put healthcare reform first and foremost on the list of changes that Americans can look forward to, Americans are fighting back fiercely.
by Tom Sheehan
We had come out of the Out Loud Open Mike meeting at Melrose’s Beebe Estate into a slick wind and minor patches of ice and snow.
by Tom Sheehan
Ears I had, and eyes, and I used them well. Before I walked by the group of men on the corner, bringing my grandfather’s lunch to the city dump where he worked, I knew they’d be talking about me.
by Tom Sheehan
I was fishing off the bridge over the Ipswich River, a few hundred yards from the Topsfield Fairgrounds.
Artwork
Manifesto of a True American Artist and Poet by Michael Indorato
All the channels on TV; from the comfort of a sofa we watch, entertained by the evils of our society
Series
by Gigi Flores
The Adventures of a Thoroughly Confused Gigi – Part I
