1 10 13 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2287/Starkey_Sweet_Potatoes.jpg 5a03f98806a8c812ccf0273adebb9abd https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2287/Starkey_Sweet_Potatoes.1.pdf 5726139425b9ea7dfae8415293161928 PDF Text Text Sweet Potatoes The fifth step, with a glass of water in my left hand, the varies of dust made a form of message(s), circling a whisper that came from the river. I tried following the dust, asking them if the river was close by, but they laughed and disappeared, silently, taking what I knew only to seem confused. My knees became wobbly from the questioning, to see the river, I must know the rhythm of the message. The tenth step, left to the right, I tripped on a pile of wondering, covered with dirt, my glass of water spilled. With my face to the earth, knowing that the drums are nearby, A sweet scent appeared, touching my left nostril, I remember this presence on a plate. Discovering the path, opening my eyes to be sitting at a table, with an empty glass beside me, my grandmother poured the cup with water, singing: “River rum rum rum.” Bio Santos Starkey is a senior psychology major at Mississippi State University from California, by way of Meridian, Mississippi. Starkey found his love for writing through the influence of his Mother's collection of books and his family's encouragement to be creative as an adolescent. He enjoys reading, taking nature adventures, and listening to and studying music in his free time. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Sweet Potatoes Description An account of the resource A poem by Santos Starkey Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2023 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg pdf Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Starkey_Sweet Potatoes.jpg Starkey_Sweet Potatoes.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Starkey, Santo Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Santo Starkey. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Santos Starkey Language A language of the resource en-US Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. Sweet Potatoes The fifth step, with a glass of water in my left hand, the varies of dust made a form of message(s), circling a whisper that came from the river. I tried following the dust, asking them if the river was close by, but they laughed and disappeared, silently, taking what I knew only to seem confused. My knees became wobbly from the questioning, to see the river, I must know the rhythm of the message. The tenth step, left to the right, I tripped on a pile of wondering, covered with dirt, my glass of water spilled. With my face to the earth, knowing that the drums are nearby, A sweet scent appeared, touching my left nostril, I remember this presence on a plate. Discovering the path, opening my eyes to be sitting at a table, with an empty glass beside me, my grandmother poured the cup with water, singing: “River rum rum rum.” https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2285/Morman_Mother_Land.jpg 51d2ba956ebf4bbbf28a8d802fc83a67 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2285/Morman_Mother_Land.1.pdf 4fca4ce71b027c4f577c9364b54eeb00 PDF Text Text Mother Land Kentucky is a strange Mother. She is cold, gray, jagged with natural rock walls the gods would envy. She is frigid, blistering, all heat, all ice. She has skipping stone freckles from her days under the smiling summer sun, swimming in murky brown ponds and crystalline creeks. She has hummingbirds in her broken soil palms and dirt in her hair, on her face, under her bare feet. There are ashen pits carved into her fingers, where her nails of coal were cut out of her loving body. She is plump in the summer months, ripe with undulating curves but is gaunt come winter, all wire smoldering under sagging fabric flesh. She has pleated waves of strawberry vine hair, ever-so-delicately kissed by the sun. Her eyes are shards of stained glass cemented together into a haphazard kaleidoscope of greens and blues and browns. She is natural. She is industrial. She is brazen and stoic and a hippie and a hillbilly and a politician. She is everything and nothing, the sun around which we rotate and the lone asteroid swirling in the rivers of ice found on the fringes of our galaxy. She is loved and hated and feared and celebrated. She birthed me through her own children’s bodies, nourished me with her honeysuckle kisses, and kept watch over me from the unflowered tulip poplars. And one day, hopefully far from now, I will repay my debt to her, returning the body I loaned so she may birth her next child. Bio Haylee Morman is a sophomore English major from Richmond, Kentucky. She is also pursuing a minor in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) and is one recipient of Mississippi State University's Presidential scholarships. While her publishing history is not extensive, she aspires to have an illustrious one soon enough. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Mother Land Description An account of the resource A poem by Haylee Morman Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Haylee Morman Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2023 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg pdf Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Morman_Mother Land.jpg Morman_Mother Land.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Morman, Haylee Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Haylee Morman. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. Mother Land Kentucky is a strange Mother. She is cold, gray, jagged with natural rock walls the gods would envy. She is frigid, blistering, all heat, all ice. She has skipping stone freckles from her days under the smiling summer sun, swimming in murky brown ponds and crystalline creeks. She has hummingbirds in her broken soil palms and dirt in her hair, on her face, under her bare feet. There are ashen pits carved into her fingers, where her nails of coal were cut out of her loving body. She is plump in the summer months, ripe with undulating curves but is gaunt come winter, all wire smoldering under sagging fabric flesh. She has pleated waves of strawberry vine hair, ever-so-delicately kissed by the sun. Her eyes are shards of stained glass cemented together into a haphazard kaleidoscope of greens and blues and browns. She is natural. She is industrial. She is brazen and stoic and a hippie and a hillbilly and a politician. She is everything and nothing, the sun around which we rotate and the lone asteroid swirling in the rivers of ice found on the fringes of our galaxy. She is loved and hated and feared and celebrated. She birthed me through her own children’s bodies, nourished me with her honeysuckle kisses, and kept watch over me from the unflowered tulip poplars. And one day, hopefully far from now, I will repay my debt to her, returning the body I loaned so she may birth her next child. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2283/Adejombo_Crucifixion_01.jpg 061c48eca98bd8794e03ddd7c0bf5e7a https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2283/Adejombo_Crucifixion_02.jpg 61b989540dd127a1cb29e3cefda3d6bc https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2283/Adejombo_Crucifixion.pdf da4358078dd5eb160c2db3ca7deddf0f PDF Text Text Crucifixion on the Atlantic The year I turned fifteen, The carpet of our house finally fell to my father’s foot. Every night he stomped the floor in effervescent worship, While his palms struck themselves and occasionally, My sister’s cheeks when the hymn wasn’t draining her lungs Of every sound her tiny vocal tracts could produce, To praise the man our ancestors were told Died and lived that we may be free From our devil, black devil, dark-skinned devil— Soon the devils were fettered to the boats That had brought the messengers of this good news, Exorcised by their own brothers Who were also slaves— Far from the ships sailing the Atlantic— But slaves to the deception that had been sowed in their hearts. Curse that sea! Why should I be baptized in the sea Where our fathers were thrown off like luggage— Like? They were luggage, And at their owner’s discretion, they were disposed. Curse that sea! Why should I wash myself anew in the sea Where our mothers’ bodies transfigured into wild game To be devoured by men with skin as bland as their hearts? �No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! NO! BLESS THAT SEA! The Atlantic where our fathers and mothers Committed their spirits Maybe we should be washed in this sacred sea, sanctified in their blood that remained in their veins as they drowned, In their cries for mercy below worn-out decks, In their plea for freedom at the hands of death Granted by the endless depth of the sea. Bio Daniel Djembe is from Lagos, Nigeria. Mr. Adejombo is a junior, double majoring in Economics and Philosophy with the hopes of making it into law school when he graduates. His non- academic interests are mostly musical; he enjoy playing guitar and piano, and listening to jazz, blues, rock, reggae, soul, neo-classical compositions, and of course Nigerian popular music. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Crucifixion on the Atlantic Description An account of the resource A poem by Daniel Adejombo Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Daniel Adejombo Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2023 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Adejombo_Crucifixion 01.jpg Adejombo_Crucifixion 02.jpg Adejombo_Crucifixion.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Adejombo, Daniel Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Daniel Adejombo. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. Crucifixion on the Atlantic The year I turned fifteen, The carpet of our house finally fell to my father’s foot. Every night he stomped the floor in effervescent worship, While his palms struck themselves and occasionally, My sister’s cheeks when the hymn wasn’t draining her lungs Of every sound her tiny vocal tracts could produce, To praise the man our ancestors were told Died and lived that we may be free From our devil, black devil, dark-skinned devil— Soon the devils were fettered to the boats That had brought the messengers of this good news, Exorcised by their own brothers Who were also slaves— Far from the ships sailing the Atlantic— But slaves to the deception that had been sowed in their hearts. Curse that sea! Why should I be baptized in the sea Where our fathers were thrown off like luggage— Like? They were luggage, And at their owner’s discretion, they were disposed. Curse that sea! Why should I wash myself anew in the sea Where our mothers’ bodies transfigured into wild game To be devoured by men with skin as bland as their hearts? No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! NO! BLESS THAT SEA! The Atlantic where our fathers and mothers Committed their spirits Maybe we should be washed in this sacred sea, sanctified in their blood that remained in their veins as they drowned, In their cries for mercy below worn-out decks, In their plea for freedom at the hands of death Granted by the endless depth of the sea. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2281/Bosarge_College_Body_01.jpg 2389baf3ff3046b91874d462d59b0356 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2281/Bosarge_College_Body_02.jpg 2bf9fc72197dcfa805ac714e0dbc81f4 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2281/Bosarge_College_Body.pdf 3f7d95a7f8c9c43f62e8314cd46d84cc PDF Text Text The College Body I feel it I feel it tearing through the barrier An unmatchable thick barrier of blue radiation and trembling lines I feel the indigo light burning my skin slowly My eyes waning down through tinted words Each telling one more useless fact One more temporary tibbid of information I feel it My eyes redden with a slick coat of inconsistent sleep and bruising daydreams Feelings of an omniscient trust reside in multiple page forums A search for questions that can only be answered by strangers A funny scenario for someone like me, the one who is asking, also a stranger I feel it My hands quiver to the tics of an analog clock An ocean of anxiety sailed by a small boat of determination 11:59 pm is lurking just a minute before the fairy man arrives My veins have built large, fortified vessels Surfacing waves of 99-cent energy drinks I feel it My stomach is a churning mess I am full of food contortioned by air My body cries for a drop of rain For rain brings lazy days and rest Nourishment of freshwater crawling back to my semester’s old skin I feel it When I stand The space of a million years Two million static TVs Three million stars And four million eighty-two pins in my back Stabbing, drawing up pains I thought I could not feel �I feel it A feeling of try-hard despair Vampire schedules pulling me low Teaspoons of smiles fall into my daily drinks Many deriving from the future and many deriving from the past Never the present I feel it When I stand When I sit When I think When I do finally breathe It is a temporary low for a simple signatured paper A low that can hopefully be scrubbed clean by becoming a distant memory A low that has shaped and sculpted Arose and depleted Carried and fell A college body full of ostensible knowledge A college body that can feel I feel it I feel it. Bio Charisma is twenty years old and from Gulfport, MS. She moved up to Mississippi State to study in psychology and biology and wants to use this to go into genetic counseling. On the side, she enjoys digital art, painting, and most of all writing. She has also published a kid's book, and working on publishing a novel soon! She would like to thank Mississippi State University for giving this opportunity because it pushed her out of her comfort zone into something new, poetry. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The College Body Description An account of the resource A poem by Charisma Bosarge Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Charisma Bosarge Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2022 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg pdf Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Bosarge_College Body 01.jpg Bosarge_College Body 02.jpg Bosarge_College Body.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Bosarge, Charisma Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Charisma Bosarge. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. The College Body I feel it I feel it tearing through the barrier An unmatchable thick barrier of blue radiation and trembling lines I feel the indigo light burning my skin slowly My eyes waning down through tinted words Each telling one more useless fact One more temporary tibbid of information I feel it My eyes redden with a slick coat of inconsistent sleep and bruising daydreams Feelings of an omniscient trust reside in multiple page forums A search for questions that can only be answered by strangers A funny scenario for someone like me, the one who is asking, also a stranger I feel it My hands quiver to the tics of an analog clock An ocean of anxiety sailed by a small boat of determination 11:59 pm is lurking just a minute before the fairy man arrives My veins have built large, fortified vessels Surfacing waves of 99-cent energy drinks I feel it My stomach is a churning mess I am full of food contortioned by air My body cries for a drop of rain For rain brings lazy days and rest Nourishment of freshwater crawling back to my semester’s old skin I feel it When I stand The space of a million years Two million static TVs Three million stars And four million eighty-two pins in my back Stabbing, drawing up pains I thought I could not feel I feel it A feeling of try-hard despair Vampire schedules pulling me low Teaspoons of smiles fall into my daily drinks Many deriving from the future and many deriving from the past Never the present I feel it When I stand When I sit When I think When I do finally breathe It is a temporary low for a simple signatured paper A low that can hopefully be scrubbed clean by becoming a distant memory A low that has shaped and sculpted Arose and depleted Carried and fell A college body full of ostensible knowledge A college body that can feel I feel it I feel it. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2279/Cooper_Friend.jpg ed78bb0e3075c4bcace416b8622cc2fb https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2279/Cooper_Friend.1.pdf 39623a45f19ea53f9e91b6612246df0b PDF Text Text Amari Cooper To My Friend I know you do not think and maybe it is because you do not know, but I am aware that I was the one who stirred tide and that it was me who let it manifest into wave. And that when it came crashing it found the space between us and forming an ocean. It was me who cause the wave and settled there poked at the water and watched as it rippled along the horizon. However, I was not the one who found the gulf or stood right on its shore. I did not allow its coolness to lick my feet or taste the dirt and dust that settled in between my toes, or let it carry the path we walked away. Yes, I caused the wave because I poked the water with a stick and when it settled and formed an ocean between us, I did not attempt to cross it. I did not gather my wood and make a boat to try to find my way back to you. However, I did stand along the waterfront right before the water could eat the sand on my toes. I did try calling out to you only to find that you were looking the other way. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource To My Friend Description An account of the resource A poem by Amari Cooper Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Amari Cooper Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2022 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource jpg pdf Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Cooper_Friend.jpg Cooper_Friend.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Cooper, Amari Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Amari Cooper. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. To My Friend I know you do not think and maybe it is because you do not know, but I am aware that I was the one who stirred tide and that it was me who let it manifest into wave. And that when it came crashing it found the space between us and settled there forming an ocean. It was me who cause the wave and poked at the water and watched as it rippled along the horizon. However, I was not the one who found the gulf or stood right on its shore. I did not allow its coolness to lick my feet or taste the dirt and dust that settled in between my toes, or let it carry the path we walked away. Yes, I caused the wave because I poked the water with a stick and when it settled and formed an ocean between us, I did not attempt to cross it. I did not gather my wood and make a boat to try to find my way back to you. However, I did stand along the waterfront right before the water could eat the sand on my toes. I did try calling out to you only to find that you were looking the other way. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2277/Matthews_Burning_Soles.jpg a59567e67cf8d3388ed18440ec3ed63e https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2277/Matthews_Burning_Soles.1.pdf 0a08b42621e029ebba3b7a4bf9dd8f0f PDF Text Text The Burning Soles of My Feet Today I sat beneath the sun and let its teeth sink into my outstretched legs, my arms tucked beneath my back in shadow. Today I reached for the endless sky— fingers outstretched in all of their insatiable greed— and imagined myself taking off my shoes and stepping into the sky’s cool blue body like a pool meant for swimming. Today I watched timid green leaves bask in a golden sunset, a school of pink-stained clouds swimming above my head as I eyed haphazard bumblebees and imagined a place unknown. Today I pulled off my shoes, my socks, and stepped into the sky— burning the soles of my feet unexpectedly in the melting pool of sun while searching for a place I’ll never find. Bio Callie Matthews is a freshman at Mississippi State University majoring in psychology and minoring in creative writing. She is a proud resident of the Magnolia State, and its natural beauty influences her poetry a great deal. She enjoys many aspects of life, such as tacos and eighties' synth music, and believes everything is a story worth telling. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Burning Soles of My Feet Description An account of the resource A poem by Callie Matthews Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Callie Matthews Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2022 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDf Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Matthews_Burning Soles.jpg Matthews_Burning Soles.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Matthews, Callie Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Callie Matthews. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. The Burning Soles of My Feet Today I sat beneath the sun and let its teeth sink into my outstretched legs, my arms tucked beneath my back in shadow. Today I reached for the endless sky— fingers outstretched in all of their insatiable greed— and imagined myself taking off my shoes and stepping into the sky’s cool blue body like a pool meant for swimming. Today I watched timid green leaves bask in a golden sunset, a school of pink-stained clouds swimming above my head as I eyed haphazard bumblebees and imagined a place unknown. Today I pulled off my shoes, my socks, and stepped into the sky— burning the soles of my feet unexpectedly in the melting pool of sun while searching for a place I’ll never find. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2275/Seeman_Arkansas.jpg 8737ddc8d66594de3896130831177611 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2275/Seeman_Arkansas.1.pdf afb6c69f7186d8f00cd87d15554d52a7 PDF Text Text Arkansas License Plate The flash of blue captured my glance, driving through the Arizona red rock. Its bird's foot violet and daisy background, powder blue fading to a light cream. And its curved maroon letters along the edges: ARKANSAS. The Natural State. Natural cotton, natural rice, natural corn-Unnatural cancer from constant crop dusting. It plagued my small delta town. I escaped the plague and moved to sprawling red rock. But not before it took my grandfather, and left his skin bloated yellow and toenails rotted. It’ll pull you in with diamond promises, and turn you out with blistering, sweaty palms, and a razorback neck from picking the red rice so tired moms won’t scream when they pour their brats Rice Krispies. Those moms don’t care how we toil in the rice fields and leave covered in mosquito bites. Oh Arkansas, oh Arkansas, Arkansas U.S.A. It’s the spirit of the tired, it’s the spirit of labor. It’s the race to escape to the red rocks, It’s the spirit of my farmer father-who harvests rice in a faded crimson combine with a flathead screwdriver as a key. Bio Baylee Seeman is from Jonesboro, Arkansas and is a senior English major with a minor in Pre-Law. She is a member of the Mississippi State Speech and Debate Council, Pi Beta Phi Fraternity, Demmer Scholar's Program, and Pre-Law Society. She will graduate in December 2021 and plans to attend law school in August of 2022. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Arkansas License Plate Description An account of the resource A poem by Baylee Seeman Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Baylee Seeman Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2021 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Seeman_Arkansas.jpg Seeman_Arkansas.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Seeman, Baylee Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Baylee Seeman. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. Arkansas License Plate The flash of blue captured my glance, driving through the Arizona red rock. Its bird's foot violet and daisy background, powder blue fading to a light cream. And its curved maroon letters along the edges: ARKANSAS. The Natural State. Natural cotton, natural rice, natural corn-- Unnatural cancer from constant crop dusting. It plagued my small delta town. I escaped the plague and moved to sprawling red rock. But not before it took my grandfather, and left his skin bloated yellow and toenails rotted. It’ll pull you in with diamond promises, and turn you out with blistering, sweaty palms, and a razorback neck from picking the red rice so tired moms won’t scream when they pour their brats Rice Krispies. Those moms don’t care how we toil in the rice fields and leave covered in mosquito bites. Oh Arkansas, oh Arkansas, Arkansas U.S.A. It’s the spirit of the tired, it’s the spirit of labor. It’s the race to escape to the red rocks, It’s the spirit of my farmer father-- who harvests rice in a faded crimson combine with a flathead screwdriver as a key. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2273/Schicker_3_Rs.jpg f4f29b181e2d41d5548a37dd068330e8 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2273/Schicker_3_Rs.1.pdf 355972161707874911105188face945b PDF Text Text The 3 R’s in 2021 America. Allen Ginsberg alive again, but Ruth is dead. Jim and his bird are visiting the South once more. The mule is still afraid to bring up Order 15. But it’s all heritage so better ignore it, right? Reduce the endless media! Just double speed on YouTube to keep up; or Just give me the late late late show’s commentary until I am still. I order my Benzos through Bezos now. Afloat in the sunken place. In a hole so deep, I could start fracking. With no light even as the world burns. Reuse the hero plot but give me something more this time. Maybe one that’s queer or was homeless or got deported or sat in a clinic or dropped out; Or just pay for a crew spot, I guess. Leave the package outside please. I don’t need what’s inside. It’s just a pleasure cycle of using. And grab the bottle, or bottle up. Recycle feelings. Can’t stand myself but stand for something. So now I just write and march and shout: Protect Black Lives. Protect Trans Kids. Protect DREAMers. Protect Democracy. Protect the Planet. Protect ______. “Alexa, re-order another box.” Bio Philippe Schicker, an international student from Germany and recent community college transfer, is a senior mechanical engineering major. After graduation, he plans on continuing his education at Carnegie Mellon University. At MSU, Mr. Schicker is involved in various student organizations such as Foundation Ambassadors, Maroon VIP, and the Student Association. Additionally, he conducts undergraduate research with his first publication set for mid-June. Outside of school, Mr. Schicker works tirelessly to destigmatize youth mental health as a coauthor with Letters to Strangers and fights for climate justice in Mississippi through advocacy with the Climate Reality Project. Mr. Schicker is passionate about working at the intersection of engineering and environmental policy focused on renewable energy systems. He is deeply interested in creating and analyzing national and global renewable energy policy to combat climate change and sustain environmental justice. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The 3 R's in 2021 Description An account of the resource A poem by Philippe Schicker Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Philippe Schicker Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2021 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Schicker_3 Rs.jpg Schicker_3 Rs.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Schicker, Phillippe Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Philippe Schicker. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. The 3 R’s in 2021 America. Allen Ginsberg alive again, but Ruth is dead. Jim and his bird are visiting the South once more. The mule is still afraid to bring up Order 15. But it’s all heritage so better ignore it, right? Reduce the endless media! Just double speed on YouTube to keep up; or Just give me the late late late show’s commentary until I am still. I order my Benzos through Bezos now. Afloat in the sunken place. In a hole so deep, I could start fracking. With no light even as the world burns. Reuse the hero plot but give me something more this time. Maybe one that’s queer or was homeless or got deported or sat in a clinic or dropped out; Or just pay for a crew spot, I guess. Leave the package outside please. I don’t need what’s inside. It’s just a pleasure cycle of using. And grab the bottle, or bottle up. Recycle feelings. Can’t stand myself but stand for something. So now I just write and march and shout: Protect Black Lives. Protect Trans Kids. Protect DREAMers. Protect Democracy. Protect the Planet. Protect ______. “Alexa, re-order another box.” https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2271/Norris_Coat.jpg 4b91ef9bd53cedc2a59ccc0876a26ff2 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2271/Norris_Coat.1.pdf 1ab8f18c872f22f358e9743784d773be PDF Text Text To Grow Into Your Old Coat When I was young, the sleeves of your coat were too long and it felt heavy on my arms. You smiled at my youth, and assured me that I would one day fill in the empty space of this old coat. I wore it with pride, even as it would slip off my shoulders, even though it bore the rips, and held scars of dutiful service in its skin. After all these years, where I now stand alone, bereft of your guidance, I still do not fit. I am older than you now, and the seams are still together and size fitting on my body, but I have not grown into your coat, and I worry, that I never will. Bio Katie Norris is an MSU junior who loves to express herself through creativity and writing. Ms. Norris has always loved reading and writing, ever since she was a child, and now uses this passion to learn about the world around her and as well as learning how to craft words into something that can be felt universally by others. Ms. Norris believes stories can be conveyed in any artistic medium, and stories are a fundamental part of being human. Telling our story has always been a part of our history, and she hopes to one day be capable of expressing the human experience through her creative work. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource To Grow Old into Your Old Coat Description An account of the resource A poem by Katie Norris Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Katie Norris Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2021 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Norris_Coat.jpg Norris_Coat.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Norris, Katie Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Katie Norris. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. To Grow Into Your Old Coat When I was young, the sleeves of your coat were too long and it felt heavy on my arms. You smiled at my youth, and assured me that I would one day fill in the empty space of this old coat. I wore it with pride, even as it would slip off my shoulders, even though it bore the rips, and held scars of dutiful service in its skin. After all these years, where I now stand alone, bereft of your guidance, I still do not fit. I am older than you now, and the seams are still together and size fitting on my body, but I have not grown into your coat, and I worry, that I never will. https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2269/Dzukogi_Casualties.jpg 4283018f45e56f014a73fdc738353833 https://msstate-exhibits.libraryhost.com/files/original/9/2269/Dzukogi_Casualties.1.pdf 129cb6db5985ff31742d4297e3fa2256 PDF Text Text We Are All Casualties of Our Absence when you are diabetic, a little thing as athlete-foot can grow a mouth that, if allowed, will swallow—first, the toe—then your leg, and often your whole life—My wife sometimes sings at the kitchen sink. Somewhere behind me I could feel her grief, sprawled over, pacing like a thick frame of dark, fashioned after my own body. I don’t see how anyone could stop a beast like that from consuming me. But the thing that terrifies me with loud footsteps, live inside of her— a body absorbing grief like a moose without flinching. Growing older is but learning to house grief inside our bodies. We are at the mercy of time’s fury. I burst into tears often hoping the road gets slippery for what is chasing after me. Under my breath is a country drowning from the weight of its own worries. Under my breath I pulled up a chair. A prayer soothes the beast in my chest—There is guilt, there is me absorbed in the thought that I’ve booked a flight to America, for myself and my wife, so all her loved ones could die behind her back. Bio Saddiq Dzukogi is a Nigerian poet and Asst. professor of English at Mississippi State University. He is the author of Your Crib, My Qibla (University of Nebraska Press, 2021), winner of the 2021 Derek Walcott Prize for Poetry, and the 2022 Julie Suk Award and the 2022 finalist for the Nigeria Prize in Literature. He is the recipient of numerous fellowships from the Nebraska Art Council, the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, Pen America, and Ebedi International Residency. His poetry is featured in various magazines including POETRY, Ploughshares, Kenyon Review, Poetry London, Guernica, Cincinnati Review, Gulf Coast, and Prairie Schooner. Saddiq lives and writes from Starkville, Mississippi. � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bully's Bards Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Are All Casualties of Our Absence Description An account of the resource A poem by Saddiq Dzukogi Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Saddiq Dzukogi Date Available Date (often a range) that the resource became or will become available. 2023 Subject The topic of the resource Months--Poetry Poetry Language A language of the resource en-US Type The nature or genre of the resource text Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource JPG PDF Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context Dzukogi_Casualties.jpg Dzukogi_Casualties.pdf Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Bully's Bards: Celebrating the Poets of Mississippi State University, Mississippi State University Libraries. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Dzukogi, Saddiq Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Copyright protected by Saddiq Dzukogi. Use of materials from this collection beyond the exceptions provided for in the Fair Use and Educational Use clauses of the U.S. Copyright Law may violate federal law. Permission to publish or reproduce is required. Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Mississippi State University Libraries Scripto Transcription A written representation of a document. Note on transcription: This transcription may not reflect the poetic form established by the poet. Please refer to the PDF file of this poem available in the Files section for proper formatting. We Are All Casualties of Our Absence when you are diabetic, a little thing as athlete-foot can grow a mouth that, if allowed, will swallow—first, the toe—then your leg, and often your whole life—My wife sometimes sings at the kitchen sink. Somewhere behind me I could feel her grief, sprawled over, pacing like a thick frame of dark, fashioned after my own body. I don’t see how anyone could stop a beast like that from consuming me. But the thing that terrifies me with loud footsteps, live inside of her— a body absorbing grief like a moose without flinching. Growing older is but learning to house grief inside our bodies. We are at the mercy of time’s fury. I burst into tears often hoping the road gets slippery for what is chasing after me. Under my breath is a country drowning from the weight of its own worries. Under my breath I pulled up a chair. A prayer soothes the beast in my chest—There is guilt, there is me absorbed in the thought that I’ve booked a flight to America, for myself and my wife, so all her loved ones could die behind her back.