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kentuckykernel | literary edition

Letter from the Editors: Not-so-serious duo

In this edition, our storytelling takes on a new form. Through poetry, short stories and visual art, we asked our student body to share their art and use their voices. As you flip through these pages, we hope you find connection, inspiration and enjoyment within these student submissions.

As for us, we are the creative masterminds behind each of our print editions. While we don’t write, we amplify each story with visual elements that draw readers in. With the transition to a news magazine, we want to continue pushing the boundaries of design and creativity, hoping to get these kids off their damn screens and pick up some print media instead!

We also want to give a shoutout to our designers: Audrey, Diego, Jonathan, Rowan and Sarah for helping design this issue. We truly could not have completed this magazine without their help. We might just be the luckiest editors in the world.

Enjoy our 2026 Literary Edition!

Ashleigh Jones Chief of Design

Cara Raiford Special Projects Editor

Black Eyes by Miles Cearra

Giant by Henry Allen

Editor-in-Chief

Giana Gallo

Managing Editor

Kennedy Parker Chief Designer

Ashleigh Jones

Special Projects Editor

Cara Raiford

News Editor

Adah Hufana

Assistant News Editor

Sylvia Freire

Sports Editor

Jonathon Bruner

Assistant Sports Editor

Jenna Lifshen

Digital Editor

Chloe Bradley Assistant Digital Editor

Marissa Armstrong

Copy Editor

Brayden Scott

your mother. And that one,” He slid his finger slightly to the you.” A proud twinkle filled the void between his beard. “My Pia

questioned. “Are you to the right? Above, below, around? Anywhere?” staring far away. His focus was elsewhere. dragging his hand somewhere new. “Or perhaps over there? That one’s surprised that I could move now, yet nothing shocked me more His ears always had a knack for flattery. I needed to blink again. just as quickly, trying to catch the world in motion. I was far too stood larger, even the mottled shades of grass. I stared down at than usual, and tanned darker too. Only when time rested between with freckles. Only when I was young. said, hugging a mighty trunk. His fingers barely graced around a size larger than life itself, its branches dancing with and yellow glows sizzled in cracks beneath the bark, falling wrapped my arms around his right leg; to me, he was larger than

again,” I whispered. A burning smell stuck thick beside my nose. nodded, budding a grin. He had always loved telling stories. It was heard countless times, but countless wasn’t enough. I wanted more. words, but to his voice, and the fond way it crackled. A warmth wind, flaking away in a spritz and dazzle but burning all the boomed, far and wide it rang. Infinite. The timbre I had lost, but still it but their height gives them a way to reach the stars.” Bitter chest. He had finished his story quicker than I remembered. Pia?” what happens to those who have the largest hearts?” I wanted a “Surely they go somewhere different. Somewhere closer.” looked down at me, gilded eyes flecked by steely dents of see the stars? Could he see the difference? “I’ll have you tell me heavy sting. It hurt to keep them open, but I couldn't blink

On the Cover: The Next King of the Sea by Michael Nerswick

Features and Opinions Editor

Laney Harris

Assistant Features Editor

Quézia Arruda Cunha

Assistant Opinions Editor

Ari Contreras

Social Media Editor

Harper Hawkins

Marketing and Ad Manager

Owen Craig

Photo Managers

Brooke Johnson Will Luckett

Video Manager

Piper Renaud

TikTok Manager

Jackson Redish Opinions Podcast Manager Isabella Lindsey

Bl ack Eyes Miles Cearra

At birth, we get hit with Bright lights and pressure

We’ve never felt before.

Our cries are so loud, It almost makes us Want to attach ourselves Back onto our mother’s Umbilical cord.

Yet, before we were born A place had already been made for us.

While other kids got a playground. We got the world.

So loud, So vast, So angry, So deadly.

Our nature wants us to survive So we adapt by expanding Our vision.

Our inner eye, A gift covered with The blood of our ancestors.

The black inner eye Comes from vision passed down From our ancestors. Its power allows us to see life and people

Fully from a young age. How cruel we are to ourselves. How cruel they are to us.

While God looks down upon them He looks right at us.

“I strip you of your skin, See your flesh, child of mine. See your tender bones. The rib of life. Life is all over you. Can you see?”

Can I see?

What can’t I see?

“‘O the damned negro, born through Ham

We shall strike down this curse

The descendants of this cursed spirit

Shall serve its master. That is its kismet.”

My eyes are holy. They allow me to see all. I must confess, it makes me feel powerful.

So full and Black.

But I must be reminded That I am a cursed spirit.

Transfiguration of ancestral beings Fall upon my journey of liberation. This power, this curse Cannot be destroyed.

I get on my knees every night to repent. Until God had made his way to me His presence was dark When he opened his mouth, He let out a cacophony of curses.

He reached inside and grabbed my ribs Then gouged out my eyes.

“I shall hear no more words of mercy.”

I bled for days. Until he came back, Touched me softly, And put his mouth to my ear.

“For I am nothing. Your eyes are the last piece of my soul. Can’t you see?

I am no God You called upon the one who cursed you.”

My breath stilled.“Before God said, 'Let there be light.’ There was darkness, Blackness filled the universe

Until a bright white light arrived Our path has always led to being close To power and creation.”

My vision started to come back, And my ribs had been healed.

“I carried your blood Hundreds of years ago.

I am no God.

I am nothing but you.”

She left with a faint Sound of chains following her.

My vision had come back, And I could finally get up from the floor.

I never called upon God again.

its okay; i'll protect you forever Anna Zheng

HenryAllen

I blinked. There was nothing. I blinked again. My father sat atop a weathered stump, the flecked silver of his beard shifting in the pales of orange light. I looked down, expecting a fire or some form of lantern, but there was nothing. My eyes fluttered in surprise and a tree stood between us. It was short, stout, and speckled, green leaves tousled in the ivory dips of smoke. Warm light rose in wisps and trails, settling as stars in the blank sky above.

“Dad!” I shouted from across the tree. He felt farther than he looked. “Can you hear me? It’s me, Pia Pie.” Silence responded thick enough to shimmer. He ignored me, opting to watch the sapling with honey-sweetened eyes. I tried to stand up and walk, to get his attention with a gentle tap on the cheek or a crisp pinch on the nose, but my body refused. I tried harder, straining my teeth with grit, but still I was no closer. I peered below and noticed my arms seeded to sides and my feet sown to grass. I was a spectator, and there was nothing to do but blink.

I slammed my eyes shut, wrapping sight beneath heavy darkness. Form and shape swirled within the cloak, stirred by seeping shades of burnt orange. The color grew bolder, brighter, spinning the dim black into a jumble of warmth and night. They did not mix. I opened my eyes again.

The tree had blossomed to a full sight’s view, bulbed with gnarled twists of heft and stock. Hazeled bark spiraled in a gangle of branches, spritzed by the gentle foams of moss. Hoary leaves lighter than low flaked from their sides, drifting in a steady rise towards the sky. Closer and closer they flew, until a sudden weight snapped them to the ground, salting the earth in sprinkles of ash.

“Do you see that, Pia?” A familiar voice asked. I turned and found Dad’s face, focused yet whimsied, staring at the pointed tips of the tree. Or was it the stars he watched? I could not tell.

“See what, Dad?” I examined the wear of his appearance, which was far less worn than it had been moments ago. His beard had shed its silver, deigning to glitter only in polished crinkles of jet and olive.

“There!” A heavy arm wreathed my shoulder, pulling me close. Steady pulses of breath ebbed against my ribs as a quiet warmth coasted between the cracks, pooling inside my chest. He used his other arm to point. “Look.” I stared only at his face in ignorance. This meant more than the stars.

“That one looks just like your mother. And that one,” He slid his finger slightly to the left. “That one looks just like you.” A proud twinkle filled the void between his beard. “My Pia Pie is a piece of the sky.”

“Then where are you?” I questioned. “Are you to the right? Above, below, around? Anywhere?”

“So beautiful,” he blinked, staring far away. His focus was elsewhere.

“Are you there?” I asked, dragging his hand somewhere new. “Or perhaps over there? That one’s as bright as your smile.” I was surprised that I could move now, yet nothing shocked me more than flattery’s lacking appeal. His ears always had a knack for flattery. I needed to blink again.

I shut my eyes and opened them just as quickly, trying to catch the world in motion. I was far too slow. This time the entire world stood larger, even the mottled shades of grass. I stared down at my hands. They were smaller than usual, and tanned darker too. Only when time rested between my fingers were they this kissed with freckles. Only when I was young.

“I’m right here next to you,” Dad said, hugging a mighty trunk. His fingers barely graced around the ring. The tree had bloomed to a size larger than life itself, its branches dancing with constellations in the sky. Orange and yellow glows sizzled in cracks beneath the bark, falling upwards in rivulets of light. I wrapped my arms around his right leg; to me, he was larger than the tree.

“Tell me the story of the giants again,” I whispered. A burning smell stuck thick beside my nose.

“Mmmm, a good one,” Dad nodded, budding a grin. He had always loved telling stories. It was a lengthy tale, one that I had heard countless times, but countless wasn’t enough. I wanted more.

As he spoke I listened not to his words, but to his voice, and the fond way it crackled. A warmth that sailed like embers in the wind, flaking away in a spritz and dazzle but burning all the brighter Deep and low it boomed, far and wide it rang. Infinite. The timbre I had lost, but still it found me.

“...giants burn out all the faster, but their height gives them a way to reach the stars.” Bitter sombers quickened within my chest. He had finished his story quicker than I remembered. “Funny how that works, isn’t it Pia?”

“No, no it’s not. I want to know what happens to those who have the largest hearts?” I wanted a different ending, I wanted more. “Surely they go somewhere different. Somewhere closer.”

“Oh, well I wouldn’t know.” He looked down at me, gilded eyes flecked by steely dents of smoke. Did he see me? Did he see the stars? Could he see the difference? “I’ll have you tell me one day.”

Tears caught my eyes in a heavy sting. It hurt to keep them open, but I couldn’t blink until I knew.

“Please tell me where you are.” I wasn’t asking anymore. “Please…”

Dad smiled as he scooped me in his arms, pulling me close. “I’m with the stars, and there’s no place I’d rather be.”

I blinked as tears slipped through the cracks. There was a campfire, stacked and smoking, bleeding into the sky. I blinked again. There was nothing.

Mackenzie Willis

RotSunny Hensler

I get this feeling sometimes. It is a weight on my chest, a shortness of breath. It churns deep in my stomach like sickness. I don’t know how to stop it. I couldn’t stop you. You stuck your hands up my shirt, then below my waistband, but Dad said that’s just what boys do. Maybe I’m just overreacting. You asked me over and over after I said no. Maybe I said no so much it didn’t sound like a word anymore, and lost its meaning. You said if I didn’t do what you wanted then I didn’t love you. Maybe I wasn’t showing enough affection before. Eventually, I stopped fighting. Maybe I shouldn’t feel this rot in my stomach, since I gave in.

I get this feeling sometimes. It is a weight on my chest, a shortness of breath. It churns deep in my stomach like sickness. I don’t know how to stop it. I couldn’t stop you You stuck your hands up my shirt, then below my waistband, but Dad said that’s just what boys do. Maybe I’m just overreacting You asked me over and over after I said no. Maybe I said no so much it didn’t sound like a word anymore, and lost its meaning. You said if I didn’t do what you wanted then I didn’t love you. Maybe I wasn’t showing enough affection before. Eventually, I stopped fighting Maybe I shouldn’t feel this rot in my stomach, since I gave in

Full of Life

C.J. Jones

Hudson checked his watch. He’d been looking at the corpse in front of him for only thirty seconds, but it might as well have been hours. He wasn’t quite sure how to react. It wasn’t exactly a tearjerking sight. In fact, his eyes were so dry that he was uncomfortably aware of how much physical effort it took just to blink.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Todd James—or, as Hudson likes to think of him, that one guy from work with two first names— bundled up in a thick overcoat with a smile peaking through his reddened face. As he shook his head a bit, rogue snowflakes went flying to the ground.

“Hey, Hudson,” he said, reaching out for a handshake.

“Hey, Todd.”

“How ‘ya doin’?

“Not too bad, man. You?” “Can’t complain.”

“How’re the kids?”

“Oh, fine, fine. Keeping us on our toes, really.”

“That’s their job, ain’t it?”

“Sure feels like it. Jimmy’s just got one concert after another these days. Real whiz with the sax, that one. And Nora’s got that D.C. trip coming up in a few weeks,” said Todd.

“Right, right. Fun stuff.”

“Yours?”

“Ah. Well, things are good. Sarah’s, uh, still out there being Sarah. You know her. But Harper got into law school last week. So we’ve been pretty stoked about that.”

“Really? Which one?”

“A place I can’t afford, brother.”

“Ha. Like that narrows it down.”

“Right.”

They both turned to look at the open casket.

Burt Murphy looked a lot glossier than he had in life. Like a polished wooden doll, his lids shut and everything.

“Did you ever notice that mole he had there?” asked Hudson, nodding towards Burt’s face. “On his cheek, I mean.”

“Hmm. Guess not. Looks kinda new. Like they painted it on or something,” Todd mumbled in between glances at his watch.

“I guess I never really noticed that much about him to begin with.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s your fault, though. It’s not like he was exactly full of life around the office. No pun intended.”

“True. He was always on the…” Hudson picked at a scab on the side of his earlobe. “...the quieter side for sure.”

“Y’know, I never saw him at one of the Christmas parties. Not once.”

“He wasn’t exactly a company man, no.”

“Not even a family man. No wife. No kids. No nothing.”

“Well,” said Hudson with a nod toward the back of the room—in which an older woman in a black

dress was attempting to capture the attention of a couple of dulleyed folks, who currently had their eyes on the sandwich buffet trays being set up by teenage caterers across from the podium, with some rambling sappy story about the dearly departed. “He at least had someone. That’s his sister back there, I think. Kelly or something.”

Todd’s eyebrows raised. “Hey. I recognize that name. She’s the one who sent out the invitations. I’ve got some questions for her.”

“Don’t bother the lady,” Hudson said. “She’s in mourning.”

“Well, I just want to know why we got invited to this thing in the first place, really. Because, like, no offense? I hardly knew the guy. Did anyone else from work get invited?”

“Charlie was here earlier. Saw him on my way in. Said he was gonna go take a shit. Didn’t come back.”

“Charlie got an invite? No freaking way. They weren’t even in the same department.”

It seemed like Burt’s sister was getting into a really good part of her story now. She was waving her hands around in the air like some sort of crazy person and miming out some wild fantastical The doddering old cousins she was talking to nodded along in sync to every word, but their eyes followed perfectly the straight line that the table of bologna sandwiches across the room created.

“I think she needed someone else here. So he wouldn’t be so…”

Todd nodded, then cleared his throat.

“What do you think is the polite amount of time to look at an open casket?” Hudson asked, looking at his watch.

“Well, you can’t look too long or you’re a weirdo,” Todd said. “But you can’t look away too soon, either, or you’re a heartless bastard.”

“Well, I’ve been at it for a while now. Give it another minute or so and I reckon we can try and see where Charlie went off to.”

Geometric Kaleidoscope

Welcome to the annual Golden Forks, where we dish out the ultimate superlatives to the people, events and news stories that really stuck a fork in the status quo this year.

As the spring semester wraps up, we apologize to those of you who have to bear witness to this ceremony while your brain is 90% caffeine and 10% panic thinking about finals or graduation.

Our concept is simple. We have spent 12 months watching the campus simmer, and now it is finally time to skewer the year’s most seasoned disasters and over-seasoned egos. It is essentially a high-stakes roast where the only thing on the menu is the truth, served with a side of salt.

Stay salty,

The Kernel

BEST DRESSED: UK Batman Golden Forks

Protecting UK students and serving looks? It can only be one person: UK Batman. Known for protecting students’ peace and quiet in Willy T. Library, he wears his chic all-black suit, iconic mask and cape, making his unique fashion not only recognizable but also helpful for hiding in the dark of the night. But where is the campus hero when we need him most during finals season? Maybe we need to cast the bat signal from POT, or we might just need to take another look into the shadows for his oh-so fashionable costume.

BEST WATERPARK: Pigman Hall

Hit the splash zone at UK’s very own indoor waterpark at Pigman Hall! This aqua adventure is sure to get students moving and grooving! The absolute best way to relax during a stressful first semester of college. Choose from three different floors of mattress waterslides and sprinkler fun! Hurry now, we aren’t sure when this water wonderland is going to close. Don’t forget your bathing suit!

NATIONAL TREASURE:

Tallest building in the world

From South Limestone to Nicholasville Road this iconic building in Lexington stands as the true North Star, always guiding students back to the bars or to downtown during the Nicholasville Road 5 p.m. rush hour traffic. May I present to you the Fifth Third Bank building. Even through the dreary gray winter skies to the ever-blinding sun radiating off of the building during the summer, this bank building will forever be known as “The tallest building in the world.”

LIFE OF THE PARTY: 3 consecutive snow days

On a cold day in January the University of Kentucky did something unthinkable, unimaginable even. UK lost the fight to Jack Frost and canceled classes for not one day, not two days but three consecutive days. Students can thank Frost for this remarkable defeat since the last time the university closed for just two consecutive days was in February 2015. We all know how UK feels about canceling classes, and well, let’s face it. These snow days took a hit to the school like a college kid’s credit card bill on Spring Break. So, let’s all say this in unison, “Thank you Jack Frost for three days of sledding down the Willy T. bowl, house parties and not breaking a leg on the frozen sidewalks.”

Kentucky did something unthinkable, unimaginable even. UK lost the fight to Jack Frost and cancelled classes for not one day, not two days but three consecutive day s. Students can thank Frost for this remarkable defeat since the last time the university closed for just two consecutive days was in February 2015. We all know how UK feels about cancelling classes and well, let's face it, these snow days took a hit to the school like a college kid’s credit card bill on spring break. So, let's all say this in unison, “Thank you Jack Frost for three days of sledding down the Willy T. bowl, house parties and not breaking a leg on the frozen sidewalks.”

EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH:

Mark Stoops

May I present to you the University of Kentucky’s employee of the month, drum roll please for the one and only Mark Stoops. He is also known as a “world class football coach” and the “goat of Kentucky football.” He is so well beloved at UK that UK decided to pay him a whopping $3,927,500 in December and then $6,750,000 yearly until 2031 even after he was “gasp” fired! Thank you Stoops for all of your hard work for the Kentucky football program and allowing the students of UK to make many funny YikYak comments about you.

May I present to you the University of Kentucky’s employee of the month, drum roll please for the one and only Mark Stoops. He is also known as a “world class football coach” and the “GOAT of Kentucky football.” He is so well beloved at UK that UK decided to pay him a whopping $3,927,500 in December and then $6,750,000 yearly until 2031 even after he was “gasp” fired! Thank you Stoops for all of your hard work for the Kentucky football program and allowing the students of UK to make many funny Yik Yak comments about you.

BEST PROFESSOR: CHAT GPT

There are whispers on campus that a new professor is in town. That they are the most brilliant professor to ever walk this campus, their name you might ask? It is ChatGPT. Yes the rumors are true, ChatGPT is teaching essentially almost all of the college students with their award-winning technology and phenomenal use of “humanizing” students' homework answers. In fact, they are the greatest professor to ever teach on this campus that UK has created an artificial intelligence major that will be launched this upcoming fall.

MOST LIKELY TO TEXT THEIR MOM

DURING SEX: 35% of

college students

A survey says 35% of 10,000 college kids scroll on their phones during sex, 24 out of those 10,000 people text their mom. So, what exactly are you all texting your mothers about? Is it that the dining hall's food sucked that day or is it about how you got another parking ticket? Oh wait or is it that your fake ID didn’t work at the bar? What is so important that you have to text your mother during sex with whom is most likely a man or woman you met on Tinder? The Kernel would love to know.

May we all gather here today to mourn the loss of three more buildings that have been put to death near UK’s campus. Turns out Bad Ass Coffee isn’t that “bad ass” after all. Then you have poor Tolly Ho who was a classic staple for drunk college kids to stumble in and out of, for 50 years for that matter. That is if you managed to make it all the way to South Broadway in one piece from the bars. Last but not least, the University Health Pharmacy. Not much to say about them except that no one wanted to fill their prescriptions there anymore. Lets all have a moment of silence for these buildings as they will all most likely become, yet again, another construction site for UK. Rest in pieces, sorry, I mean rest in peace.

MOST LIKELY TO NEVER SHOW UP TO CLASS: DEI

Showed up the first week of classes in August 2024, but no one has heard from them since. Some students say that they’re “still around,” but no one can tell you where. Rumor has it, they rebranded themselves, transferred to a different department on campus, blocked their entire friend group and are now going by a different name that “means the same thing.” The university said we are “advancing Kentucky,” but DEI is nowhere to be found. The campus community is now just wondering if DEI will ever get its academic comeback, or even see graduation.

Showed up the first week of classes in August 2024, but no one has heard from them since. Some students say that they’re “still around” but no one can tell you where. Rumor has it, they rebranded themselves, transferred to a different department on campus, blocked their entire friend group and are now going by a different name that “means the same thing.” The university said we are “advancing Kentucky,” but DEI is nowhere to be found. The campus community is now just wondering if DEI will ever get its academic comeback, or even see graduation.

MOST LIKELY TO OUTLAST STUDENT LOANS: Eli Capiluto

You’ll graduate, get a job, get married, have kids and even send those kids off to college and President Eli Capilouto will still be sending you emails asking about your student loans and tuition increases signed “With love.” He was here before you arrived and will still be here after you leave. In between it all, he sent you enough campus-wide emails to fill the entire William T. Young Library. Students will come and go, but some things always remain the same like tuition increases, construction on campus and of course, Capilouto. Don’t worry, the loans will eventually be paid off, but even then Capilouto won’t be going away.

You’ll graduate, get a job, get married, have kids and even send those kids off to college and President Eli Capilouto will still be sending you emails asking about your student loans and tuition increases signed “With love.” He was here before you arrived and will still be here after you leave. In between it all, he sent you enough campus-wide emails to fill the entire William T Young Library. Students will come and go, but some things always remain the same like tuition increases, construction on-campus and of course, Capilouto. Don’t worry, the loans will eventually be paid off, but even then Capilouto won’t be going away

SUGAR DADDY OF THE YEAR: Bill Gatton

Now, a real sugar daddy is hard to come by, but UK hit the jackpot with Bill Gatton. I don’t know how UK found him, a meet-cute, black market app or on the doorstep of B&E. Either way, you know a sugar daddy is legit when the source that the money is suspicious, but somehow normal and lucrative enough where you don’t bat an eye. His donations have undeniably transformed the university, but nothing quite says “humble contribution” like seeing “Gatton” stamped on seemingly every corner of campus. Still, you can’t really fault the man. If you’re going to give that much, you might as well make sure no one forgets. We shouldn’t shame UK for being a sugar baby, the only question we should ask is “how do I become one next?”

Golden Forks: The Kernel’s finest seniors

Giana Gallo: World’s best curser

Brayden Scott: Most likely to say something comically unhinged

Jonathon Bruner: Most likely to be absent or MIA

Kennedy Parker: Most Likely to Say ‘Bless Your Heart’ as a threat

Quézia Arruda

Cunha: Most likely to win 10 Pulitzers

Owen Craig: Most likely to be the UKY Batman

Ashleigh Jones: Most likely to be confused about what’s going on in the newsroom

Laney Harris: Future Attorney of the group chat

Autumn King: Most likely to win in a Wrestlemania fight

Harper Hawkins: Most likely to be “on it”

Kira McCurdy: Most likely to be on the New York Times best selling authors list