Inkling 2016
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INKLING Volume 26 Spring 2016 Inkling is the creative arts magazine of Lone Star College Tomball. Students of LSC-Tomball are invited to submit poetry, essays, short stories, or artwork for this annual publication. All copyrights revert to the authors and artists. No portion of Inkling may be reproduced without consent of the individual contributors. Senior Editors: Zaynab Ali & Wendy Palmgren Editorial Staff: Lucy Alvear Susana Blandon Samm Fanning Kathryn Chuchmuch Jordan Smith Advisers: Mari-Carmen Marín Catherine Olson Kyle Solak Cover Art: Pack Up the Moon Charlene Woelfel My interest in photography first began in 2012 while on a trip to the beach with my family. While I had initially only been interest- ed in using my camera to document family events and excursions, my interest in photography quickly grew into a passion for creating art after that trip. “Pack Up the Moon” was a piece I created after reading the poem “Funeral Blues” by W.H. Auden in my English 1302 class. My goal was to create a dreamlike scene that depicted the feelings described in the poem. This piece is a composite of three images that I took on separate occasions – one of the stars, one of the model, and one of the moon – and edited together using Adobe Photoshop. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Inkling Table of Contents The Inkling staff, editors, and advisers would like to Darwinian Ideals by Lauren Clark 1 extend their sincerest thanks to Lone Star College-Tomball for the opportunity to publish this twenty-sixth edition of our magazine. First Place Poetry Winner We’d like to thank sponsors of this year’s reading series: Sky Breaks Open by Jaida Doll 3 LSC-Tomball and Community Library; the Division of Devel- Fragments by Brandon Paiz 4 opmental Studies, English, Languages, and Mathematics; the That’s What I Don’t Get by Brianna Korenek 7 President of Lone Star College-Tomball, Dr. Lee Ann Nutt; and the The Time Traveler’s Poem by Kathryn Chuchmuch 10 Office of Student Life. With their support,Inkling was able to host Falling Up by Timon Whitfield 11 an on-campus reading and an interview with poet Martha Serpas. 1,095 Days by Brianna Korenek 12 Additionally, Inkling would like to express our vast appreciation Baby Boy Blue by Lauren Roetzler 14 to Samm Fanning and Kyle Solak for their efforts in transcribing Ranting for Mine by Lucy Alvear 15 and editing the Nick Flynn interview for publication in this year’s The Underdog Will Rise by Jordan Smith 16 magazine. And, of course, tremendous thanks go to Nick Flynn, and Martha Serpas for sharing time, talent, stories, and poems with A godly Man by Jaida Doll 17 us. Prelude of Blood Moon by Allison Canty 18 We offer heartfelt thanks to current Dean Melinda Cole- Second Place Prose Winner man in the DSELM Division. Thanks also go to Shannon Marino, Dark Night by Samm Fanning 23 Danielle Thornton, and Sousan Abdul-Razzak in the Office of The Great Whale Poem by Kathryn Chuchmuch 24 Student Life, and to Pamela Shafer in the Lone Star College-Tom- This Train by Lucy Alvear 25 ball Community Library for supporting us throughout the year. We Rejection by Jordan Smith 26 must thank the Inkling faculty and staff judges, Steffani Frideres, Honeybaby by Samuel Griswold 27 Barbara Lujan, and Ava Veselis. Finally, we mustn’t forget English Thunder Clouds and Rainy Days by Cesily Brewer 28 professor Douglas Boyd, longtime Inkling judge, proofreader and How It Really Went by Amanda Donahoo 29 grammar sage, for the consistent editorial direction he has brought The Meeting by Matthew Coble 30 to the magazine over the past twenty-six years. First Place Prose Winner Most of all, special thanks go to the talented and inspired Nebula by Charlene Woelfel 40 students of Lone Star College-Tomball. Each year, we collect hun- Rainy Web by Lucy Alvear 41 dreds of submissions, and in the end, we are only able to showcase Marsh Sunset by Lisa Coryell-Niccum 42 a handful of the creative works that LSC-Tomball students have Pleasant Day by Darrell Svatek 43 to offer. Many thanks to all of the student contributors this year, Cloud 9 by Cynthia Enciso 44 in past years, and in years to come. This magazine would not be Second Place Art Winner possible without them. Snow and Ice by Wendy Palmgren 45 City Night by Lucy Alvear 46 First Place Poetry Winner Third Place Art Winner More than I Can Chew by Charlene Woelfel 47 Darwinian Ideals Frozen Tears by Jaida Doll 48 Lauren Clark The Fox by Lance Kretzschmar 49 Wishing Pond by Darrell Svatek 50 There exists only a false dichotomy between life and death. First Place Art Winner The purpose of life is to be a Darwinian success, then die. Train Coming by Lucy Alvear 51 We stop breathing Aztec Dragon by Madeleine McQuilling 52 Our hearts stop beating Hidden Treasure by Wendy Palmgren 53 Synapses don’t connect Miss Bella by Darrell Svatek 54 We are fettered by death Streams of Light by Jaida Doll 55 A Conversation between Nick Flynn and Inkling 56 An inevitable and unenviable event Transcribed by Samm Fanning Death stalks silently How to Cry by Hayden Dent 69 Creeping behind us Growing Up with Growing Fears by Jaida Doll 70 Lurking in darkness Second Place Poetry Winner Sneaking in obscurity The Statue in the Mirror by Kathryn Chuchmuch 72 Lost in the Storm by James Schulte 73 We live, we die The cycle will endure Beautiful Day by Jennifer Erickson 75 New life is born from old Timing by Samm Fanning 76 The cycle will persist Third Place Prose Winner Steps of Deceit by Elise Gray 86 We are our genes Don’t Be a Stranger by Samuel Griswold 87 We are our beliefs Mother’s Habits by Allison Canty 90 Our morals and ideals You Think You’ve Seen her Naked by Lucy Alvear 91 Our chromosomes Math Problems by Kathryn Chuchmuch 92 Progenies perpetuate our lives Third Place Poetry Winner Our voices present through them Contributors’ Biographies 93 Our phenotype is passed on Inkling Editorial Staff and Advisers 97 They become us Submission Guidelines 98 A union of gametes Brings the miracle of life A long nine-month process 1 Of swollen ankles and morning sickness Sky Breaks Open Of babies protected in a warm, liquid bubble Jaida Doll Soon a baby is born Just a little bit longer, Wrapped in swaddling cloth, he cries out Until the clouds move aside. He opens his eyes with blurred vision Just a little bit longer, His grasp reflex works overtime Until I don’t have to hide. A small cough bubbles up out of him Just a little bit longer, Until this rain stops pouring, Already development has begun And the wind ceases roaring. Fontanels fuse together Until the thunder doesn’t boom, Color slowly fills in his world And I can’t see my doom. Sounds become more distinct Just a little bit longer, Bones begin to calcify Until the sky breaks open. Years pass quickly, quietly The child is grown The parents are now fragile and weak Like the immature infant Their lives are ending They hold a great-grandchild For the first and last time Death has come to reap They are covered with earth Back where they began Life becomes invaluable As mourning cries rise in the air 2 3 Fragments The truth became a dream anew Brandon Paiz Delusion was no guarantee, bona fide Poorest boy or poorest girl, when I. My heart can bare it I devote myself You are so tall and I am so small Revealing what no one else sees I look and seem familiar, adhered Feel these tremendous eruptions Behind walls where I’m disguised Exploding beneath the skin Here meanwhile they exist unaware Surviving with varied flesh Making sense of the ambiguities Gloomy, rusty red magma burns Lightened by sickly source, wall clock Smoldering ash of prior visions Tick tocks with such unrelenting pace Manifest interred, unrecoverable The glass dinner table scarcely clean In time I wished I could love him I observe my creators and I perceive Loving preferable, but father, he Mangled marionettes left to die Taught me to hate him much more They howl and scream, bombarding Endless hatred like throwing knives III. At one another, misplaced in my bones You thrive here, broken apart Their harsh voices burst my insides Curtailing regrets with cheap booze Futile words become reminders kept Unacceptable dead-end normality I recall my barren face, pale The only woman I will ever love Devoid of pride and compassion Fading further and further away Tears of familiarity in conditions alike Three days, four days, five days I contemplate imminent happenings Where? Your absence buries me Scared of what they’ll think Like some shallow grave vacant Knowing I enable my memory Mother, don’t you get it? To dictate every foot forward Confront those demons eager Reborn a puppet of my past Observe the damage they’ve done Consider the bigger picture, spirits II. You endlessly lust to obliterate My mother carrying Of only youthful comprehension She wished for my companion Though I did not cease to exact Finally to come true, but my father In her unwillingness to abstain Answering her with corrosive apathy I beg her to put it down, look me in Dismantled and impotence subdue The eye and tell me why –“To forget” 4 5 Someone said that my love might be That’s What I Don’t Get Enough for her sooner or later Brianna Korenek Oh god, count my prayers Pull yourself apart from the shadows I don’t understand.