SpawningPool Poetry Chapbook: Diversity Spring 2021 Shippensburg University /OR SpawningPool is a literary arts chapbook published at Shippensburg University by a small and dedicated team of undergraduate students. It is composed of Poetry pieces submitted by undergraduate students of the university. SpawningPool accepts rolling submissions throughout the year and we publish our chapbook every spring semester. SpawningPool is a publication of The Reflector, which also accepts submissions year-round and is compiled each Fall semester. Contact us: Submissions and inquiries: reflector@ship.edu SpawningPool Poetry Chapbook, Spring 2021 Text set in Bookman Old Style Printed by Shippensburg University Layout by Dale Crowley and Tristan Brownewell Cover design by Tristan Brownewell Poetry Editor: Dale Crowley Assistant Poetry Editor: Tristan Brownewell Committee Members: Haley Bennett Cameron Crouse Emily Fitzgerald Ernest Frazier Victoria Helfrick Abigail Long Bailey Milnik Nicole Potts Table of Contents Me...........................................................................1 Kaliyah Barnaby Untitled...................................................................2 Elijah Warren Untitled...................................................................3 Piper Kull Painting of a Girl................................................4 – 5 Samantha Smith What if I was a Cat.............................................6 – 7 Samantha Smith My First Time at Field of Screams.......................8 – 9 Samantha Smith I Just Want a Drink...............................................10 Keric Ellis Cower/Grow...................................................11 – 14 Isabella Brignola Unity..............................................................15 – 16 Autumn Jones Car Crash..............................................................17 Bruce Washington Complaints............................................................18 Bruce Washington Differences of Balance............................................19 Bruce Washington Adversity........................................................20 – 21 Wayne Hood Jr. Untitled.................................................................22 Salma Aden Of Towns and Little People.....................................23 Cameron M. Crouse Neon Colors....................................................24 – 25 Cameron M. Crouse Black, Brown and Tan....................................26 – 27 Pierce Romey Untitled.................................................................28 Courtney Mayne Plastic Vignettes....................................................29 Olivia Chovanes Color Love......................................................30 – 32 Ariana Tomb Wings....................................................................33 Emily Fitzgerald Path Less Traveled.........................................34 – 35 Abigail Long Words Unsaid........................................................36 Abigail Long Asexuality..............................................................37 Anonymous Box................................................................38 – 39 Anonymous Muse..............................................................40 – 42 Isabella Brignola What I know...................................................43 – 44 Isabella Brignola What Love Should Be.....................................45 – 48 Adam Bean Me Do you see me? Hear me Scream Why so silent, I know you can hear me Help me! Why aren’t you helping me? Why aren’t you seeing me? I’m bleeding, crying, screaming Do you see me? Breaking on the inside, while my happiness slips away Hear me scream from the pain, and the blood dripping down to the floor Do you see me, I see me Music blasting, and dancing with bright smiles Heart filling with joy I hear me Laughing, no more tears, no screams No more pain, Do you see me? Kaliyah Barnaby 1 Untitled A man in camo approaches me preaching of a life boasting benefits and glory. Immediately I'm captivated and before I know it, I'm hugging my family goodbye before boarding a westbound plane. Lord knows the misery awaiting us in Missouri as the bus delivers us past the point of no return. The Fort Leonard Wood welcoming committee showed no mercy as the weight of our decisions finally came to fruition. Each and every day, each and every one of us combated the rigors of our situation. The lack of prowess or power proved too much for some, and they returned home with their paycheck and memories alike. Here I stand, however, now laughing at my former adversary among the victorious. Elijah Warren 2 Untitled My queerness walks into a bar She wears a stiff jacket over a tube top, Gets her ass grabbed by a bolder man, A drink bought by a shyer woman. My queerness gets on the table and reaches down to no one, but three reach back The question quickly becomes Who do I want to be seen with tonight? My queerness walks out of the bar confused On the arm of someone who might have Called her “slut” earlier, or was it “stunning?” My queerness refuses to choose And she is deemed greedy and unfaithful Said to be faking for a trend. My queerness continues to return, Despite the pleas from my mother, Unapologetic, and shamelessly real. Piper Kull 3 Painting of a Girl Each time I look upon her face, I cannot help but smile, because Grandpa gave her to me to keep my head up a while. She looks as though she is lost, but seems to know exactly where she is. The flowers by her feet, and the flowers in her basket swing gently in the breeze as she rests among the grasses. The barn panels creak as these old structures often do, but this does not bother her, she has other things to do. She seems a little sad, but maybe she’s just thinking, of all the things young girls do, 4 never even blinking. Each time I look upon her face, I often wonder why, this little girl upon my wall looks like she’s about to cry. I like to think her worries are often small and maybe someday she will forget them all. A smile will spread across her face, bright enough to keep even the sun in place. Her worries fade and life moves on, just as each new day begins with dawn. I look forward to that day, I may not even know what to say, as I look upon her face and know We have found our space. Samantha Smith 5 What if I was a cat? I like to sit and think what my days would be like if I was a cat? I would be with a family one filled with love that lets me play in the grass of their great big backyard. The adventures I could have playing with butterflies and the sun just like children do I am a cat named Kitty Kat. My little girl calls me Kat most days but sometimes when she is sad, she says in her quiet little voice come here Kitty Kat. This name of mine, that I have been given let’s me feel the warmth of the sun 6 and play with butterflies in the great big backyard of my family, just like my little girl who so often calls me Kat. Samantha Smith 7 My first time at Field of Screams. I hear the whispers of those behind me and the screams of those in front or are those my screams? They yell at me from both sides I cannot understand what they are saying but it startles me nonetheless. I really want to keep moving forward but in front of me the father holding his son's shoulders in comfort while the boy grasps his own ears, seem to walk at a snail’s pace. I feel a hand reach out, my shoulder touched my ankle grabbed my face nearly collides with a swinging door. I just want to get out of here, But I just can’t seem to let go of the thrill of it all So, I stay. 8 I endure it. And in the end, I laughed about it Samantha Smith 9 I Just Want A Drink My whiteness walks into a bar And I immediately feel guilt, Guilt for having privilege When I strive for equality. My straightness walks into a bar But no one sees me as such. They infer my high femininity To me being homosexual. My Christianity walks into a bar And I am seen as the judge When all I want, is for judgement To be left up to God. I walk into a bar All of me in one "Hey, Rum & Coke! Make it strong! I've had a helluva day!" Keric Ellis 10 Cower/Grow Tribute to Ada Limón and Alison Bechdel You are crying in the shower. You didn’t mean to, But the chance to sob, Without being caught, Only comes once a day, In those constrained tiled squares. You can’t feel the tears leaking out, Because the constant downpour Of the showerhead makes it too Overwhelming to separate The millions of drops, Falling to the floor. A book has never upset you so deeply, That the rest of the day You are no better than a ghost Wandering the scenes of pages As a spirit must wander through 11 Their memories, Unaware of the world around them. Perhaps it’s that one line Echoing through the crowded library of Scenes and facts, stuffed in the shelves Of your subconscious. You reach out to pick the troublesome leaflet, Viewing the picture of Bechdel in a bookstore, Hiding in her trench coat as the image reads. Bechdel speaks, though, Through the strict boxes and captions. She says “A Revelation not of the flesh But of the mind.” She was your age When this revelation occurred, And she too hadn’t found any proof Of the revelation she describes Besides identifying with other voices 12 She learned to follow. You both held a similar question And in your life, you clung to others Who you knew or hoped Were like you. For the first time, You begin to ponder what it means To join this group of diverse humans. To follow in the footsteps Of Shakespeare, Audre Lorde, Oscar Wilde, And of course, Alison Bechdel. For the first time, you consider The repercussions of accepting such a legacy But to deny now would be to deny yourself. It would be to allow a part of yourself to die And shrivel up Like a rogue leaf fizzling into ash 13 As explosives crack the mountain’s shell. To accept the dangers, To decide to walk beside those before, beside, and behind you To love them all as brothers, sisters, and siblings You will never meet, That is to love yourself. There is a new responsibility that comes With the acknowledgment of the truth That you are not straight, That the talisman of “Not Queer” Will now be a lie merely because You know it now is false. Your tears fall with the shower once again And with your happiness and fears coalescing You cower, You grow. Isabella Brignola 14 Unity How wonderful is it to live in a world where being different is a form of freedom. The colors of our skin merge to create a tranquil today and a promising tomorrow. Our right, as human beings to love each other passionately, no matter the circumstance. Where religion is embedded In different forms to ensure The same purpose: faith. We celebrate our differences by clearing our fragile minds and learning about them. How wonderful is it to live in a world where being 15 diverse brings us together as one. Autumn Jones 16 Car Crash I’m sitting in my car And I see your car coming I start to drive towards you Slowly but with focus Our eyes lock as our headlights glow We ain’t playing chicken Then bang it happens An accident on purpose Airbags bust open and our souls leave the body This is the only way suicide is bliss A kiss Bruce Washington 17 Complaints It’s Sunday My Father and I don’t really have a bond My Brother and I don’t really have anything in common My Grandmother is getting older My Girlfriend is my twin yet a total stranger My Friends are too far to be close My Mother is overbearing and treats me like I’m five My Dreams are blurry My Nightmares are clear My Life is going too fast very slowly Bruce Washington 18 Differences of Balance Fuck fat people the fit rule White lives matter just as much as you Nig What? Why can’t We say it? They talk about imbalance all the time Why can’t We? Nothing run smoothly Why does everyone think they are greater and We’re less The symbol We throw up is how they see and treat us Bruce Washington 19 Adversity Adversity gives many others trouble, Plagued others with trouble, Adversity gives you near feeling of trouble, But adversity will not plague you with trouble, You will soon realize you are not the same as others. Adversity is what makes most weak but will make you stronger, Makes most naive but will make you wiser, Makes most insecure but will make you confident, Makes most fear but will make you courageous, Adversity is a necessity that everyone needs, Only a few understand the need, You will understand this need Once an Individual understands the need of adversity, they crave it, You will crave adversity, Adversity becomes a building block that these individuals look forward to, You will look forward to adversity 20 Knowing that each roadblock they overcome they become a stronger more well-prepared individual than ever imaginable in life. You will be more prepared for life more than ever imaginable. Wayne Hood Jr 21 Untitled Scared of failure and falling down. After climbing a tall ladder on un unstable ground. Doubting myself thinking I’ll fall into a hole. Where I can’t get up and feel hopeless once more. The standards I have set upon myself is difficult to reach. But the taste of satisfaction I get after, cannot be described in a speech. Having faced numerous obstacles before Yet, I’m still terrified when I face a new one and fall onto the floor. But what is an achievement when there is no obstacle to face? Does it mean something, or did you get too comfortable in your own place. Salma Aden 22 Of Towns and Little People I know a little town where little people live, and there’s little food to go around and only prayers to give. They are subject to the large town of which I call my home where little people in larger suits and gowns refuse to unlock their treasure troves. There are larger towns, smaller towns, with people small all the same who refuse to look up or look down and insist on going by different names. And ALL insist on being large and thus feed themselves the largest lies, though there are no large persons. No divide. Only other small people – minoritized. Cameron M. Crouse 23 Neon Colors Saturday night. On a bright fluorescent street. As a performance on a stage, the neon colors meet to surround a couple’s hands that are squeezing ever tighter. They dance about their focused eyes to delight him and delight her. The lights pour into their pupils in a never-ending stream of shades and hues far diversified that puts them in a lustful dream. And, at once, they turn. Their eyes meet just like their hands. They fall into each other’s being as an unheard whisper rocks the land – “Colors are heaven’s treasures and angels mix the palette, 24 and give to us our rightful measure that we might find a balance.” A realm of rainbow. A swirling bliss. One that incites a lover’s kiss. Cameron M. Crouse 25 Black, Brown, and Tan Black; the color of the magnificent night sky Black; the color of berries sweet enough to be baked in a pie. Black; the color of luxury cars that everyone loves to drive. Black; the color used in sleek and clean designs Yet, why is it when it comes to me Black is a color no one likes to see? Brown; the color of a strong blooming oak tree. Brown; the color of a big bold mother grizzly. Brown; the color of soil the root of all life. Brown; the color of milk chocolate so silky and sweet. Yet, why is the color Brown seen as weak on me? Tan; the color of the sand meeting the sea. Tan; the color of gazelle leaping gracefully. Tan; the color people wish for their hands. Tan; the color of the mountains that are formed in these great lands. Yet, why is the color Tan seen as aggressive on me? 26 Black, Brown, Tan all colors of the land. Seen as colors of beauty, love, and strength but, you don't see that when it comes to me. You see anger, destruction, and hate. Well, it's time to change what you see. I see beauty, love, and strength. I see something magnificent and full of grace. I see colors that stand hand in hand as they march across the land. I see Black, Brown, and Tan as colors of man. And man, oh man are they colors to see. Pierce Romey 27 Untitled I was looking at life through rose colored glasses, now life is on a rainbow spectrum. I no longer see red as violence and anger, but love and passion. Orange does not represent danger, it is warmth and happiness instead. I began to hate yellow when all I saw was madness, it was once again my favorite when I looked in the mirror and saw optimism throughout my face. Green clouded with greed and spite, turned into growth and prosperity. Blue dimmed my world to melancholy thoughts and suspicion, now it radiates wisdom and serenity. Purple exposed feelings of power and pride, all I feel now is independence. Now I am no longer looking through rose coloredglasses. Courtney Mayne 28 Plastic Vignettes I don’t know why there are bottle caps dotting the sand like christmas baubles or why the seagulls rattle their beaks upon the plastic on my sidewinder bare feet upon the plastic the sun casts an orange glare with dashes of pomegranate i can see the malice within the sky Olivia Chovanes 29 Color Love The color of love cannot be black, ebony is its own category in the language of love, Next to red-head and below Asian. Ebony is not love, It is kink, It is “I love black girls” whispered by a white man who doesn’t know She’s not ebony but black. Black is not love without the underscored Mocha, Caramel, Macchiato, Her skin is not your favorite candy flavor. Mocha is not love It is coffee 30 mixed with whip-cream to alleviate the bitter of Black. Mixed is not love It is combination not unlike a poodle High-end and Designer but don’t call her bitch She’s mixed. Love is not color It is the wherewithal by which to buy understanding. Love is not kink Or color Or breed Or nose Or lips Or hands Or eyes Or butt Or thighs Or skin. 31 Love is found somewhere within. Ariana Tomb 32 Wings A little birdie in a nest, He was much different from the rest. Feathers red, green, blue, Nobody has ever walked in his shoes. Fly birdie, fly, You can still reach the sky. They may not understand you in this little nest, They may not think you are the best. But you can always find birdies just like you, Birdies that accept you and love you, too. You are worthy of many things, Now fly and flap those colorful wings. Emily Fitzgerald 33 Path Less Traveled My dad once warned me that if I followed “that path,” life would be more painful. There would be stares and whispers that would eventually consume me. It was his way of trying to protect me from a world he thought I didn’t understand. What he didn’t know was that I had been made aware of how cruel the world was long before I found the courage to tell him about her. She was the “path” he was referring to I guess, as if it was some sort of decision I could make in the same way I decided what to eat for lunch. If only he knew that despite 34 the uncomfortable stares and whispers, loving her was the easiest decision I ever made. Abigail Long 35 Words Unsaid I never knew how much the word “friend” would sting until it had been four years since we began dating. Four years of building a love stronger than that of our parents, a love that is harder to crack than graphene. But when her dad introduces me as her friend, the ring hiding in my sock drawer shudders and I wonder if they will ever notice how much we love each other or if they will watch us vow to sickness and in health without ever saying “this is my daughter’s girlfriend.” Abigail Long 36 ASEXUALITY Sex An activity my body craves, but my mind does not As my sister is obsessed And my friends spill their guts And every Netflix show illustrates And I sit here wondering what is wrong with me I grew to hate my body and its desires But only because of the glorification of something that makes no sense to me They say it will get better I just need to work through my trauma Then I will be cured As if asexuality is a disease As if the only reason to deal with my inner demons is so I can receive sexual pleasure But it all feels so wrong Tristan Brownewell 37 BOX The way society was constructed refuses to include me A box that was made just for me sits in the corner of my room constantly It seems to have made a difference in the atmosphere around me Like a dark cloud hanging over my head, Or a nagging headache that cannot be cured. I thought if I threw the box outside, It would leave me alone But it came back stronger each time Begging and pleading for me to open it and conform to the workings of the outside world I refused. With every weak muscle in my body, I set fire to who I once was Or rather, who everybody wished I could be Some say I should miss her, but I don’t Some say I will regret my actions in the future I guess we will find out 38 The only thing I know in this current moment Is that as I watched the box burst into flames, For the first time in so long, I smiled Tristan Brownewell 39 MUSE I know that I will find love one day, So stop saying it as if the words balm The burns that sear my flesh Each time I remember, I am alone. I get it; I’m a good person. I understand that my love will, One faraway day, Warm the heart of another lonely soul. I have tried to start as friends. I search the activities for new people to bump into. I turn to my peers in hesitant classrooms. I call out compliments with the bravery Of a soldier charging into battle. Shut the fuck up with your hollow consolations And let me mourn each hour that passes As I sleep clinging to large teddy bears Instead of holding someone I love. 40 Permit me to weep As I question why I can’t find Anyone, to whom I can pour out The flowing lyrics and praises I long to whisper into beautiful ears. I want the right to be upset, Without a million people telling me How good I am, How I will find someone, And how I don’t need anyone to be happy. Because I know don’t need anyone, But I want someone. Your flattery, warnings, Compliments, false anger, Friendship, and advice Do not soothe the aches And anguish of always being second best. Yes, I have friends, And hobbies, and passions, 41 But what a shame it is, That no matter how much I wish, I do not have someone to curl up to In the dead of the night And offer the sweet nothings that I long to share. What a shame it is that someone with Such beautiful writing, Cannot write for anything But class and myself. Every artist deserves a romantic inspiration, If they desire it, To awaken their tongue with the butterflies and giggles That friendship and self-love can never quite replicate So let me lament the time wasted, while I wait for my muse. Isabella Brignola 42 What I Know I don't know if it's because I'm not enough I don't know if I'm too fat. I wonder if I'm too smart. I wonder if I don't wear the right clothes or makeup, Or perhaps I'm too friendly. I don't know why I haven't found romantic love Even once in my life. I don't know your name. I don't know the color of your hair. I wonder what talents you may have. I wonder what your passions and dreams are Or what makes you cry at midnight beneath covers all too thin. I don't even know your gender. But I do know I will hum your name and pronouns, and swap them in for those in great romantic ballads. I will run my fingers through your hair, No matter the color or texture. 43 I will weave lyrical tapestries about your passions, and praise your talents as Nick describes Gatsby’s smile. My arms will hold you close on those dark nights, where pain suffocates you in a sea of self-torment. I don't know who my first love will be, Or When, Or Where, Or How I will meet you, But I do know that I will love you. Isabella Brignola 44 What Love Should Be What is love? A boring question I know But an important one as I'll soon show, love is quite strange, simply an oddity, I could try to describe it, but you just have to see Love to me, is waking up grateful, For that someone out there who's all kinds of special So how I wake up, and this is my way Is wondering, what will they give me to love about them today. Perhaps their smile will be extra big and extra bright Or maybe the simple act of giving life some extra light It could be the simple act of saying hello, Or an I love you and a hug before I go. Go, as in leaving for times too extended, It's that terrible feeling of waiting I wish simply ended. The waiting of being able to hold you again, Not knowing when you’ll be back, not knowing when 45 Whether a day, a week, a month, or a year Oh god a year, what fear, the fear of waiting a year But when the waits all over, and distance has come to end It’s a magical feeling to be back with a friend That’s right a friend, best friend, yes they’re the same. What you’re just in it for a touch? Damn what a shame Cause that’s not love, or at least not to me Love is more magical, when it’s something you can’t see It’s that tiny spark,that goes off in your head The kind of love that gives you courage to get out of bed To help each other, support each other, to heal and to grow, Is there a way to describe this happiness? I guess we’ll never know. While I may stand here, and tell you what I think love should be, When it comes down to it, what love is, isn’t up to me, For love is strange, like I said at the start Love is different, like snowflakes or hell, modern art Love may seem like a mountain, oh so steep 46 But just have faith, and like faith, take a leap For a simple hello, is a good place to begin Sure you may be awkward, but haven’t we all been Naturally, I’m no expert, maybe this wasn’t the best pitch You want a love doctor, well go and watch Hitch You know, Will Smith tries to get Paul Bart laid, Speaking of which, have you seen how much the Fresh Prince gets paid 60 million a year, for doing movies like Aladdin, so unfair With that kind of cash he could just buy Bel-Air Am I getting off topic, that’s not a surprise, The only time I’m focused, is looking into your eyes. Was that line smooth, great! I’ll save it for later, Or was that too cheesy, damn get the grader Now that I think about it, that last part doesn’t make too much sense But hey I’m in love, so that’s my defense Yes I’m love, as deep as deep goes I could give a name, but chances are that person already knows 47 And all seriousness, if you have that someone near, hug them tight And always make sure they feel safe and alright I leave you all now, and wish you all the best I’ll give you all the time to let this digest So be proud of who you are, cause that’s where it begins Love who you want, cause after all, love wins. Adam Beam 48 Acknowledgements Neil Connelly, Advisor of The Reflector and SpawningPool: Thank you for all the guidance you have given us and our organization throughout the year. You play an important role and we would not be where we are today if not for you. We truly appreciate everything you have done for this club. Our Executive Board: Angela Piper Luke Hershey Kaitlyn Johnson We are so grateful for the guidance and support you have given throughout the year. Angela: We can not thank you enough for your dedication to this club. You have created an environment that has allowed all of us to thrive and grow on our path to becoming better poets. Your leadership has been instrumental in making The Reflector and The SpawningPool so amazing in this unprecedented year of adversity. Luke: Thank you for all of your guidance and technological skills. We loved your always pleasant personality and willingness to assist in whatever was needed. Your presence will be missed as you travel your future path. Kaitlyn: Thank you also for all of your help and support this year. With your help and dedication, both The Reflector and The SpawningPool are better publications than ever before. You will be missed. Kim Hess, Creative Services Coordinator: Thank you for your dedication and willingness to work with our committee. We are grateful for your role in making this publication happen and recognize that we could not have done it without you. Our Poetry Committee: These publications would not have happened if not for you. We are so grateful for your hard work and dedication. Your passion for poetry is clearly evident and is what makes this committee so extraordinary. To those of you who are graduating, please know we will miss you. You ambition will be hard to replace. This club will not be the same without you, but we know you are on your way to accomplishing great things in your life. “Diversity: The art of thinking independently together.” -Malcolm Forbes