Student Art & Poetry, Spring 2014

Untitled, Mera Cotton, pen

Lamson Library and Learning Commons presents Art and Poetry, a 7th annual exhibition featuring the creative and collaborative efforts of PSU’s Student Exhibitions Club and PSU’s Student Organization, Poets and Writers. Opening Reception: April 7th from 4:30 – 5:30 pm.  Refreshments will be served!

Student artists and poets join together to present their artwork and art-inspired poetry or short story. Art and Poetry will be on display from April 7th through May 2nd, 2014.

Blossoming (for the artwork Friday Blossom by Haden Furnbalk)
by Lauren Granato

Thump, thump
Tiny fingers and tiny toes mold,
A head rounds,
Arms and legs sprout
Thump, thump
A patchwork of neurons
Connected by synapses,
Electrical pulsing and
Thump, thump
The creation of
Humanity’s most prized gift
Began with a chaste kiss,
A pass of the drink
And giggles bubbling to white hot euphoria
Spilling into chaos and elation
Thump, thump
Thump, thump

Here Inside (for the artwork Heap by Hannah Marie Smith)
by Kaitlyn Curtin
It’s this strange balance
Here inside
And at the moment I feel it’s quiet
Like I’m floating
Like everything is ok
That warm feeling
Pink
Fuzzy
Maybe full of memories; beautiful ones
Of laughing smiles and strong arms
But I need to be careful of beautiful ones
They’re razor blade thin
And then there is that darkness
Right there to the elft
It’s rhythmic –a tempo
1,2,3….1,2,3….1,2,3….
But it’s shell is so fragile
A sheen of ice melting by a brush of a finger
IF that shell was to melt
Or scratch by those razor sharp memories
It’d all break apart
It would bleed black
Oozing
Thick
Sticky
It would coat everything
Hide away laughing smiles and strong arms
I try for balance
That fine line
Between things that are logically black and white
The things that simply gather together in a companionship
Even that part of me I’m not quite sure about yet
It’s there in my mind
And it’s growing
I can’t help but wonder what it will be
All I can hope for; All I can pray for
Is that it helps to keep a quiet mind
For my own sake at least
Bounce, Pick Up, Catch (for the artwork Jack by Nick Landry)
by Susan Dennett
I still remember the feeling
of the hardwood as my fingers
skimmed it with each turn.
Bounce,
pick up,
catch.
The sound of the ball bonking
and the pieces scratching along
the floor with every attempt
to make some headway.
Bounce,
pick up,
catch.
And the pain from grasping
the pointy pieces just a little
too tightly because of a small
victory.
Bounce,
pick up,
catch.
Teddy (for the artwork Teddy by Nick Landry)
by Kim Chandler
The beady eyes always
bulge from a dolls head
a little too far, or too dead
like children should
fear them rather than find
their comfort. The eyes remind
me of deer’s, when the headlights
of a car clip them on the interstate,
their wide-eyed, paralyzed mania,
frozen in time.
Sometimes I can relate
to their paralysis
and I am thrown back
into my childhood terror
of a reoccurring nightmare
that always started out
with me sound asleep,
being woken by the sound
of a slapping stampede
of a dozen porcelain feet
raging against the hardwood
towards my bedroom.
Tiny dolls, all with the same glassy gaze,
dead eyes bulging from their heads. They
climb the covers of my bed
in a frenzy, to feast on me, I think,
but that’s where the nightmare ends,
and I’m jerked back into reality,
feeling a little frozen
in time, paralyzed
by what I’ve seen.
I try forsaking the child in me
but I fear there are nightmares
we never wake from.
The Silver Lining (for the artwork The Beginning by Kayla Lafond)
by Alexa R. Moore
Plunged in the dark abyss as tendrils envelop my world
I am surrounded by the unknown unwilling or unable to budge in any direction.
Stuck. The shadows begin to creep in,
But I choose to move.
I choose to push through the darkness and into the light.
The Mighty Warrior (for the artwork The Skip by Dani Cushing)
by Hannah Dutton
No one talked of the smell of blood
The stench of the dead
The Warriors only talked of the conquest,
The adrenaline high,
The joy of protecting your family.
never the shakes at midnight,
nightmares of the bodies stacked high.
The one reprieve was the journey,
quiet ebb of the boat.
The gentle sway of the ice cold waters.
The Mighty Ship
The Mighty Warrior
The Mighty Warrior loves the
The Mighty Ship.
Overfills (for the artwork Untitled by Pat Walsh)
by Debbie Grotheer
The rhythmic beat,
Drip, drop, drip,
It falls, it fills,
Splash, spatter, splash,
Never ending, always adding,
Pour, more, pour,
Endless repeating, recurrence returning,
Echo, must go, but no,
Convergence, love, lust, life.
Underlying Structure (for the artwork Underlying Structure by Mike Heitz)
by Patrick Liam O’Sullivan
You don’t see it
with your eyes, even stooped
in thought while walking down
the same street as yesterday.
This same walk, day after day
with eyes cast down,
with no thought until some change
catches the sun and you think
luck day, a penny.
But below
under feet
under dirt
your life is breathed through pipes
cables and tunnels, never breaking
the surface, never breaking thought
Waking (for the artwork Untitled by Anastasia Hastings)
by Jenna Cieszka
It’s the space
Between the moment of waking and unwelcome awareness when
The stained glass window
Of your dream shatters into sharp, jagged stages of consciousness, carving
Coherent language
Into the coils of your brain. Muscles yawn, nerves blink weary electrical impulses
But you’re not ready—
Your mind reaches through the spaces, even as dawn detonates
The red blood behind closed eyelids.
Hope brushes briefly against the dark underneath the impending finality of being
Awake.

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