1
she taps he hand, twice.
across the room,
he stares, thinking
into empty air.
others, scattered
tap pencils or fingers
on desktops, booktops
and phone keyboards

the balding man
with black hair:
combed backward
and to differing angles
so that his head is split
vertically-
stands, above the room
his back turned

his words,
meant for the crowd
reverberate only
along classes fringe
but still take precedence
over nothing
even to them-
academics, outcasts


2
back of the room
reveals everything
to the observer
trying to see

blue-eyed brunette
glares vengefully
at no one,
just to glare

he looks up once
to watch
as another
pulls up
drooping jeans.
she laughs
at conversation
unmeant for,
and inaudible
to her


3
today, she smiles
and lets her lip fall
begging, like a puppy
But when they
lose eye contact,
she glares, again

he leaves footprints
on parallel desk
from lounging
then fires himself
to his feet
using stored energy,
and sugar from gum

words bounce along
the walls in the back,
and isolated eyes peer
towards the screen
but hide the fact
that they care


4
two week vacation
has left their minds
full of everything
except math,
so they listen
to him, while he speaks

but travel backward
in time, with
those closest them
while he creeps,
silent, around the room

she concentrates hard,
on her work
glaring at the page.
he sits a desk forward
feet on floor
neighboring desk full
today, but only physically

blue hat rests
on sketchbook,
its border
barely covering
closed eyes

blond head
implants itself
jokingly, into
smooth shining
white wall
with enough force
to collapse
accidental target

a hand raises
attracting gazes,
awestruck,
at her interest
in forgotten
material
of future tests


5
only a few eyes wander
from blue lined notebooks
though the left flank
still chatters, embodying
either a secretive chipmunk
or the breeze which starts the storm

storm clouds appear slowly
in sketchbook, blue hat bobbing
rhythmically in response to active pen

perched above the flock
reminiscent, split headed
papa bird scans the masks
of his shockingly silent chicks

random lecture breaks the silence.
Her eyes aren’t the only ones
Fixed into a steel laden glare
But the chipmunk wind ceases


6
his questioning glance lands
on uninhabited space,
exhibiting a yawn
which traverses through,
and twists, the faces of
those otherwise engaged

lecture ends with a question,
the scent of nuts blows through
mentally empty classroom
turning desks to predetermined
positions and swiftly inhabiting
three-quarters of the physical class

his steel glare has replaced hers
the latter’s eyes now soft as an infants

within five minutes, his voice
undergoes  a brutal, complete cycle
pleading, congratulating, yelling
and as always, lecturing


7
pre-test:

preparations for misery-
mundane chipmunk chattering,
jokes and laughs from random
oddities appearing everywhere

blue hat rests in intervals.
Blue coat rearranges
essay for another class

The girl in the sunny plaid
Rolls an orange along her hand

He points at nothing and asks
Nobody something without answer

The left flank, as always
Is turned away, conversing

A sigh rings outward loudly
Everyone glares, nervously,
Everywhere, reward of concentration


After my test:

First paper in, he scans lightly
Sets it down with a scowl
and yawns, twice, breaking the
silent shroud of heavy fog
which is hanging overhead

wandering free eyes witness
down-turned heads concentrating
as much on tests  as on moving
their hands wildly, excitedly
trying to communicate non-vocally

others have yet to detach themselves
from their seats and stride upward,
hopefully more triumphantly
than their sole predecessor

one shuffles now, slowly toward him
his hand shaking as he releases
that  paper, he turns away as it flutters
onto the desk- he replants himself in his

twelve others walk forward
smiling, shrinking, sometimes speaking
and always he glares, triumphant
knowing his success at our failure


later:

his near-sleeping form            
finds distraction, in waking
dreams, jumping back suddenly
breaking from his plank-like state
without speaking. excitement
for approaching weekend is
communicated in the left flank

two girls break the silence
running in from outside            
he glares at them, but laughs

everyone breaks into groups
after the conversation about
mysteriously nutty discarded sock

he runs to the forefront
forehead folded, finger on mouth
no-one notices, but still he glares

8
he smiles and glares at the floor
his legs swinging back and forth            
tan slacks rustling softly

exaggerated scores bubble in ears            
as they search for their destroyer

in front of forgotten faces falls
the page of a forgotten tome

several yawn, hoping, understandably
that their stretched lips
will pull themselves far enough
to barricade ears from his droning

he kills himself, twice, bumbling
into half-thought chastisements
of the  flittingly flirtatious students
intermingling hoping behind him
causing waves of whispers, laughter
and slightly strengthened chatter

he re-aligns his thoughts quickly
and rambles on again, always

9
he speaks to her softly
from across a sea of desks
she looks up, panicking calmly
distracted from distraction

in silence, blank eyes turn
surprised at the non-withering
state of her barely living corpse

he asks a question, looking up
a single answer is given
unemotional and short, buy ending
heavy hanging awkward silence

how talented the teacher
who gives his lecture while
still addressing unrelated
student self lectures

the still silence given
in his questioning lull
hangs so loudly the whispers
traversing the classroom appear
silent as finger wiggle
and pencils trace zeros

his extrication, caused by
distractingly thunderous voice
is met with a comment
causing a wave of laughter
starting at his mouth
and extending to inhabit everything

10
half the time gives
twice the attention
as they concentrate
on keeping him on
the undying topic
of the work we
have already done

they admit defeat
as dusty tome opens
spreading a nutty cloud
causing heads to turn
and words to leap.

from opens lips,
mischievous gremlins
sprout, dancing on
tables and chuckling
away from the sigh
of his down-turned, split
shining, globular mind

he scratches pink ear
with bone pale finger
reading unrelated words

in the center of the room
both mentally and physically
he sits, momentarily quiet
as dark eyes glare past
rumpled pink nose,
concentrating

blue hat rests on open palms
above dust covered open page
he slips into sleeping state
but picks himself up
and stares though thin borderline
toward shiny rambling forehead

a shutter cord flies forward
the hand at the end pulling hard
but with no affect to the shutters
neither lowering the physical
or raising the mental

the color of non-color pencils
interrupts the class momentarily
as she strides forward to compare
and then criticizes his care

he just sits, smiles and stares

11
eleven desks lie empty
of one form more than usual
amplifying the arm movements
of the ever ticking seconds

his obscured mouth flings seeds
which sprout into words
before even meeting the worn
blood-colored carpet below

in the main room, sixteen
sit silent, sketching, sleeping
or siphoning the last minute

12
those left awake, and alive
have come to understand
the numbers on the screen
this being their specialty
in a nutty shell, of course
splitting, as we are, large
crowds of numbers, and us
being teenagers, isn’t that
how we think, in numbers
and ratings of everything
and, sitting in the central
crowd are the talented
crowd-splitters
flattery-spitters

13
the silence of half absence
is pierced, as always by vocal
anomaly, centered around
rows of shining wood
bookrests, but only one
set of hollow, dark-rimmed
vacant eyeballs watches
well-welcomed interruption

he lets us work, standing.
Someone somewhere opens
A large container of nuts
Entire class starts stuffing
Handfuls into puffy cheeks
Absorbing sensations into
Eternally ravenous minds

The apocalyptic mix of noises
Is split again by central
Nutcracker, and those in corners
Glare, smiling, rubbing shadowed
Acne scarred faces
with raw-bitten nails

14
balding papa bird speaks loudly
transforming his voice, becoming
vocally legendary cartoon duck

the wave of resulting laughter
ends in un-given nut-break
spreading, without speech
the understanding that his
comedic digression will not
meet a quick extinction

we greet the weekend
by rising early
our excuse: competition
to devour the worm

15
three heads are downturned
peering into textbooks
as the tsunami breaks

the days end starts
and beady eyes peer
in the direction of his
moving head, colored
gothic gargoyle in the
dim cloudlight streaming
through dust coated
slit windows

the room transforms
becoming triumphantly,
grumpily, repeatedly
conversational

artificial silence
spreads like a wave
from right back corner
to left front corner
leaving behind
the half of the room
hidden behind the wall
of troublemakers
who will eventually
cause the wall to topple
with the sheer force
of assorted nuts

16
blue hat is scrunched
under the of a fist
pounding on his head,
result of the decibels
consumed, and produced
by the embodiment
of the thoughts around him
which fall from stuffed
cheeks. Bounce off tables
and spread a sickening aroma
as their shells split
exposing, revealing
nothing

17
red face glances upward
as harsh words split
the widening sea of snickers
his words stop, first time today
as whispers spread wildly
of his speed in delivering answers
seconds later, room is silent
as statement ends and lecturer
turns back to him, offering
as always, another wave
of deep felt, anger hardened
quietly whispered, criticisms

thunderous-rush-voice leads
out of habit and necessity
the minutes following
his behavioral digression
each word stabbing split-headed
pointy-nosed papa bird, their
form a walnut-wood spear
crafted from drifted thoughts
of those sitting nearest him

18
on his back lies a pile of nuts
professor’s earthquake
shoulder shaking causes
eyes to open, back to rise
and with a tremendous roar
both physical and meta-physical,
it topples to worn carpet
and the laugh-track plays on

19
silence- pierced into being
by shrill, violent, mountainous
rise, and fall, of thunderous decibels-
hangs, heavier, louder than
the quick gone loudness replaced
or, in all actuality, displaced
mere seconds before being scrawled
into eternal memory
of those whose noses
sniff, daily, nutty clusters
of letters, which exclude
always, the ever-present x
the destructive π
and that y, which of course
flies as high as forgetful
nut-bearers




©Brandon Webb
2012

2010 one last remark about Mom she’s never had faith or trust in me she always doubts redirects me when i was little she continuously blamed me accusing me of being sick needing a psychiatrist at age 20 my parents committed me for disciplinary reasons to the Institute of Living a psychiatric hospital in Hartford Connecticut in a locked ward for 4 months Mom and Dad discouraged my aspirations to succeed as a painter/writer arguing the impracticality of my decision they thumbs downed Bayli even today she undermines my efforts to love protect her she scolds me for asking permission from my cousin Chris to allow his son Maynard to fly down here and help me pack then drive up to Chicago so i might get to know Maynard on a road trip she instructs hire professional packers for a $100. they’ll be glad to help you pack Mom has always stood in the way of my choices decisions



1975 Chicago in his parent’s kitchen Mom offers the cannolis are fresh from Kanella’s Bakery or try the chocolate fudge cake it’s absolutely delicious Odysseus replies are you trying to fatten me up or **** me with sweets Mom flirtatiously teases i’ve always been about your ruination Odys



2001 Tucson Mom comes for visit at Thanksgiving in her early 80s walking proud yet painfully on displaced hips she is an inspiration to Odysseus her eyes are clouded with cataracts yet she sees life as an eternal optimist since 1920 the world has changed so drastically yet Mom has learned to accept many things she previously did not tolerate she lives prudently on modest fixed income her fingers are arthritically deformed but she was once a great beauty many men desired her Odysseus asks if it was difficult for Mom to lose the power of her physical desirability he noticed her good looks waning in her 50s she answers she sensed her  attraction going in her 70s she still possesses regal qualities and is quite socially charming she chatters a flurry of familiar names events that keep her busy she travels around by herself Mom’s spirit endures but in reality she drifts further away with each passing season she is delicate and has difficulty remembering she echoes a distant past in the early evening of Thanksgiving Day they sit at table of elegant yet rather staid dining room of Mom’s choosing at Arizona Inn she says it reminds her of the way things used to be she wears tasteful black linen slacks black pumps thin silk knitted black turtleneck with string of pearls gold earrings her blonde hair coiffured in same fluffy sprayed style it has been for 50 years in his heart he knows a part of her wishes her son was more like Tom Steinberg who was a senior when Odysseus was a freshman at River Woods Academy The Steinbergs and Mom are still friendly Tom is a successful investment banker with a wife and child living in Winnetka Mom nervously touches the pearl strand around her neck she says you know Mort Rock’s wife Phyllis died i was such a good friend to her at her funeral they read how she said i was her best friend she left me 10 lousy thousand dollars in her will she’s worth millions it’s eating me up inside i needed that money desperately i can’t stop thinking about it 10 lousy thousand dollars went immediately to pay off loans i’m going to sell my jewelry i don’t know what i can get in the spring i’ll put the apartment up for sale or try to get a reverse mortgage from the bank i never told you kids before i’m not in good shape Odysseus comments i feel terrible i wish so much i could help maybe Phyllis Rock suspected you and her husband maybe all those years you were her best friend she read it as guilt and obligation Mom you need to be more truthful Mom cuts in i never had *** with Mort Rock that man drove me crazy he was nuts for me Mom orders the traditional turkey dinner Odysseus orders the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish the waiter brings price fixed appetizers little circles of toasted bread with lightly browned melted cheese tiny triangular cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches roasted watercress nuts wrapped in bacon and little hot dogs pierced with fluffy ended toothpicks Mom begins to gobble as she remarks to Odysseus  why do you want to wear your hair like that? you look like you escaped from the camps Odysseus asks what camps are you referring to Mom? she replies the Concentration Camps! you’re a good-looking man and you still have a full head of hair why do you want to shave it off i don’t understand i think you should move back to Chicago Tucson has done nothing to offer look at you you’re all alone you don’t have any friends come home and be your old self again he answers my old self you don’t get it do you Mom do you remember my commodity trading debacle or my 40th birthday or you and aunt Rita’s ceaseless corrections Mom smugly retorts what do you mean your 40th birthday don’t you get smart with me you should be ashamed of yourself why must you keep bringing up the past you need to let go of the past you go into such details details i don’t remember what does it matter now it’s history we only wanted what we thought was best for you you never listened you were only interested in yourself plenty of other kids get beaten and come through just fine you don’t know what it’s like to be a parent it tears me up inside you talk like you had nothing to do with it i can’t take this abuse from you anymore her misshapen fingers hands begin trembling as her voice emotes you think i don’t realize we made mistakes with you you think we were such monsters i wasn’t a good mother i was a lousy ***** is that what you think answer me what are you a bump on a log Odysseus sits stiff in chair his voice shrinks he just sits there his legs shake under table Mom says your father was quick-tempered we were under so much financial pressure maybe we did send you away too soon if i had to do it again i’d do it differently what does it matter now it’s 50 years ago forget the past what do you want from me what can i do he listens silently wondering if Mom seeks some kind of redemption can her conceit permit it he knows he is ******* her he does not mean to be uncomfortable with his muteness Mom continues you were a difficult child remember all the trouble you caused look at you you’re still a difficult man he questions Mom can you hear yourself you think i’m difficult she answers you think we were such terrible parents you grew up in a house of violence his thumb and forefinger nervously touch his chin as he replies no you were good parents i was a problem child different from you you afforded me a beautiful home and brilliant education i wanted to investigate life and learn and grow you didn’t know what to do with a child like that as much as she tries Mom never has been a comfort for Odysseus or he for her he inadvertently stirs her to worry or snap and she in turn unthinkingly disturbs him nevertheless they love each other the waiter brings out salads Mom ordered iceberg lettuce with thousand island dressing Odysseus chose the spinach salad he takes several bites Mom remarks use your salad fork not your dinner fork you know better than that suddenly it occurs to him Mom is more fragile than he he thinks to himself silently Mom i realize your life is closing in on you your mind drifts and you need to fake and cover-up more than ever do you want me to come home and take care of you i will take care of you then he remembers how miserable they were together during his throat cancer recovery in her 3 bedroom Lake Shore Drive condominium immersed in contemplation he pushes the fork through spinach leafs Mom says sit up in the chair and put a smile on your face she self-consciously peeks around the room having lost his appetite Odysseus looks down at napkin on his lap glances at half-eaten salad bowl he gazes up at Mom the waiter arrives making a pained smile he clears the salads then serves the entrees after the waiter departs Mom speaks Odys look at me when i’m talking to you i think about a lot of things i should have done after the fact sometimes even years later Max and i made a lot of incorrect choices when it came to you he cuts in Mom you don’t have to say anymore i love you always have loved you and know you love me too Mom says you know how much i appreciate your paintings you’ve made my life richer i‘ve always been supportive of you in fact i’m your biggest fan right Odys right? thank you Mom i’m grateful Mom says i’ve spoken with psychiatrists and they all tell me the same answer tell your son to forget it why must you dwell in the past what did we do so dreadfully wrong i don’t understand you’re a hard case i wish i could get through to you i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us you’ll sleep better he questions you know about my insomnia restless sleep nightmares Mom says i can imagine Odysseus’s eyes begin to water Mom i love you i wouldn’t be who i am without you Mom says don’t get so emotional you sound weak take it from me you must be strong in life learn discipline and willpower i love you too son Odysseus wonders if maybe he agitates Mom because he is a constant liability lacking fiscal self-reliance deep down Mom is a giggling gossiping playful girl spoiled by her father she never wanted to grow up and be burdened with the tasks of parenthood what woman of rare beauty and charm would want to give up her privilege and freedom for some kid especially a *******-up kid maybe deep down Mom resents Odysseus he stares down at the Macadamia nut encrusted Hawaiian fish and silently prays he will be released from his life all his stupid sins regrets self-pity self-hatred his vain inconsequential existence



i move organize empty shelves cabinets drawers closets edit wrap tape pack wonder if moving back to Chicago is one more mistake heaped on top of a 1000 mistakes a 1,000,000 mistakes is going home to help Mom my biggest mistake ever i simply know i must try to protect my Mom

Snake

The snake sits coiled in on himself
low in the dark ground
props his heavy head against the wall
he is sick and cold
it's in his blood to be sick and cold
he's too afraid to ****
knows he can swallow a rabbit whole
but doesn't want to see the rabbit leave
everyone loves the rabbit
so he turns invisible
becomes the dotted line on the floorboards
sinks into the heavy air
sometimes the snake can feel his venom leak out into his teeth
feels sickness in his belly
festering purple words in his mouth
too sick to be hungry
the snake takes to the ceiling
he likes how nobody looks for him
he can just watch
be silent
the snake loves to watch
listen to the goat bleat
or the rabbit make a scene and twitch around
it's quiet and peaceful and he can't be trampled
he can just coil up and love them all
if he is quiet nobody will know he is sick
they will only see his friends, the goat and the rabbit

Goat

The Goat Loves to be pet.
to be milked
trade himself for the love of another
to marry, sacrificial Goat.
viscera and smoke for the gods to be nourished
The Goat always comes back to life
Bones whole like the Milk, Zeus fed him
Rewarded with immortality for his submission
the goat lives like he knows he's immortal
does not listen to reason
acts on gut instinct
he has four gut instincts
they never agree with each other
the goat still has one horn
the second was shaved and polished so he did not
harm anyone
the first stomach breaks it down
the second passes it through without much thought
the third feels sick as it passes
the fourth sends it's nutrients through the body
The Goat feels a mixture of fulfilled and tricked.
he is still not certain if it was worth it
but sacrifice is familiar to the goat.


Rabbit

The rabbit thumps his big white feet against the door
sends it flying into the bar.
all eyes
twitchy hops
busted hinges
door frame
his bright white fur,
blue glitter suit
chatters his teeth
in approval of the attention
finger guns his new audience
his manic smile
huge attentive eyes
take in the room
glow as he speaks
fast and clear
commanding everyone stand
form a circle
most of them do
except the snake hugs the ceiling unnoticed
the goat has no motivation to participate
Goat distracted by his sketchbook.
Goat is drawing the snake
the snake is coiled up trying to disappear
Snake does not want to think about the goat watching
wishes for the goat to just watch the rabbit.
the snake is upset and can't sleep
the room is all dancing now
spiraling around the rabbit and laughing.
the rabbit leaves the circle and sits next to the goat
rabbit asks what the goat is drawing.
the goat points at the snake and says

"there is a beautiful creature that the world deserves to hear about"
the rabbit agrees
says how phenomenal an artist the goat is.
rabbit looks at the goat in his rectangular slit eyes
delicately touches the goats polished horn nub.
the goat leans into the rabbit and feels comfortable
the snake is very happy the goat stopped drawing to cuddle the rabbit
and starts to smile
less sick with less attention
up here alone without being seen
he can lift up his heavy head again
he looks at the rabbit
the rabbit looks for a split second at the snake
just long enough to wink
rabbit goes back to petting the goat
who is nuzzled into the rabbits chest
as rabbit watches the room of people dancing
all circling as he left them and commanded
the rabbit bathes in his power for a minute
bathes in his love for every creature in this room
how much love he is getting and obedience
complete control and omnipotence
all these individuals
the rabbit is a god in his own mind
he values the snake for watching over the room
values the goat for being immortal
mostly the rabbit values himself
for being their manic god, keeper. protector.

when the room stops dancing they look towards the rabbit
but the snake has descended the wall and eaten the rabbit
the goats gut instinct told him to swallow the snake
the the room looks at the goat
rectangle eyes one polished horn
and a look like he just brought himself together
the venom
from the snake
mellows the vibrations from the rabbit
the rabbis feet give the goat
unfathomable luck
Goat is level headed and looks
at his former dancers no longer under the rabbit spell
all separate
with their own lives
properties
the goat is no god
he is not a shadow like the snake
he is not distracted or indecisive in his art and mind
he just exists. talks.
listens. learns
he shows the room his drawing of the snake
they for the first time feel they are not alone
the goat, the snake, the rabbit, they all understand
they have so much love.
they complete each other.

Isolationist theories
of my brutal development
A mask
In the world of passengers

Regretting every slight disruption
Making icy chatters of teeth
As we wonder

How will these small altercations
Affect the grand course
of my surreptitious collapse?
Just a violent object on an axis
A washer head
thrown into a tumultuous ocean of visions

A flickering correspondent
Lying on an abolition
The worst things happening to the best people
It spins and breaths and *****

This molested scared demon
Anally penetrating all that I believe is genuine
Reels of my childhood development
Played on repeat to search for ammunition

The tunneling rib cages of my insanity
The forest nymph of all that is good
The one who created me
Locked away in a windowless world

Analyzed as if lockness was one of them
I always thought it would be me
Falling  to where I could not be found
How am I still standing?

What does the donkey bray about?
What does the pig grunt through his snout?
What does the goose mean by a hiss?
Oh, Nurse, if you can tell me this,
I'll give you such a kiss.

The cockatoo calls "cockatoo,"
The magpie chatters "how d'ye do?"
The jackdaw bids me "go away,"
Cuckoo cries "cuckoo" half the day:
What do the others say?

A rusty train screeches to a smokey stop, as the circus comes to town
Kids gather to see the animals in costume and the sad circus clowns
Families line up, one by one
Underneath the greyish sun
Hoping for laughs, and smiles and fun

Something waddles out from a dark train car
With an eye for a mouth and a saw for an arm
Its face oozing **** and its stench so unholy
The flesh from its face was falling off slowly

Families start to gasp from the horrible sight
They whisper and mutter "That just isn't right."
Fingers start pointing and laughter loudly chatters
But having an audience is the one thing that matters

The tent goes up, and the lights turn on too
From miles away, this sight is in view
The people pile in and line up outside
Pushing and shoving to make it inside

There was something about this circus, tonight
The elephants stomped as some ravens took flight
Children chant out "Oohs" and "Ahs" as they walk through the crowd
The lights were so bright, the music so loud

As the crowd took their seats and the music went down
The lights dimmed to just one on a clown
He explained the show and how tonight should go
Then the lights faded out, and went on with the show

Blood started raining from the tent's ceiling
People were gasping, crying and screaming
The doors were all locked, there was no way to escape
The audience left sitting with their jaws agape

The trapeze artist swung through with an ax
Chopping off heads and shouting "Relax!"
They'd paid for the seats, but this was the tax
The audience dying, the circus folk eating
The circus lives on as the crowd is left bleeding

My pupils scatter and drag.
I dream and eat the round, brown beads
In fitful sleep, my tongue pale and sallow.
This consciousness will not float.
The lids clatter shut like a kettle drum cooker,
A thing alive inside, more or less.
There is an echo,
Scuttle, and a cough. Strangers in the cellar.
There is no rightness to this, only sacrilege.
The unjust man chatters in my skull.
"Go home, go home!", I cry.
The sense of it all withers with the passing of the years.

There was a roaring in the wind all night;
The rain came heavily and fell in floods;
But now the sun is rising calm and bright;
The birds are singing in the distant woods;
Over his own sweet voice the Stock-dove broods;
The Jay makes answer as the Magpie chatters;
And all the air is filled with pleasant noise of waters.

All things that love the sun are out of doors;
The sky rejoices in the morning’s birth;
The grass is bright with rain-drops;—on the moors
The hare is running races in her mirth;
And with her feet she from the plashy earth
Raises a mist, that, glittering in the sun,
Runs with her all the way, wherever she doth run.

I was a Traveller then upon the moor,
I saw the hare that raced about with joy;
I heard the woods and distant waters roar;
Or heard them not, as happy as a boy:
The pleasant season did my heart employ:
My old remembrances went from me wholly;
And all the ways of men, so vain and melancholy.

But, as it sometimes chanceth, from the might
Of joy in minds that can no further go,
As high as we have mounted in delight
In our dejection do we sink as low;
To me that morning did it happen so;
And fears and fancies thick upon me came;
Dim sadness—and blind thoughts, I knew not, nor could name.

I heard the sky-lark warbling in the sky;
And I bethought me of the playful hare:
Even such a happy Child of earth am I;
Even as these blissful creatures do I fare;
Far from the world I walk, and from all care;
But there may come another day to me—
Solitude, pain of heart, distress, and poverty.

My whole life I have lived in pleasant thought,
As if life’s business were a summer mood;
As if all needful things would come unsought
To genial faith, still rich in genial good;
But how can He expect that others should
Build for him, sow for him, and at his call
Love him, who for himself will take no heed at all?

I thought of Chatterton, the marvellous Boy,
The sleepless Soul that perished in his pride;
Of Him who walked in glory and in joy
Following his plough, along the mountain-side:
By our own spirits are we deified:
We Poets in our youth begin in gladness;
But thereof come in the end despondency and madness.

Now, whether it were by peculiar grace,
A leading from above, a something given,
Yet it befell, that, in this lonely place,
When I with these untoward thoughts had striven,
Beside a pool bare to the eye of heaven
I saw a Man before me unawares:
The oldest man he seemed that ever wore grey hairs.

As a huge stone is sometimes seen to lie
Couched on the bald top of an eminence;
Wonder to all who do the same espy,
By what means it could thither come, and whence;
So that it seems a thing endued with sense:
Like a sea-beast crawled forth, that on a shelf
Of rock or sand reposeth, there to sun itself;

Such seemed this Man, not all alive nor dead,
Nor all asleep—in his extreme old age:
His body was bent double, feet and head
Coming together in life’s pilgrimage;
As if some dire constraint of pain, or rage
Of sickness felt by him in times long past,
A more than human weight upon his frame had cast.

Himself he propped, limbs, body, and pale face,
Upon a long grey staff of shaven wood:
And, still as I drew near with gentle pace,
Upon the margin of that moorish flood
Motionless as a cloud the old Man stood,
That heareth not the loud winds when they call
And moveth all together, if it move at all.

At length, himself unsettling, he the pond
Stirred with his staff, and fixedly did look
Upon the muddy water, which he conned,
As if he had been reading in a book:
And now a stranger’s privilege I took;
And, drawing to his side, to him did say,
“This morning gives us promise of a glorious day.”

A gentle answer did the old Man make,
In courteous speech which forth he slowly drew:
And him with further words I thus bespake,
“What occupation do you there pursue?
This is a lonesome place for one like you.”
Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise
Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid eyes,

His words came feebly, from a feeble chest,
But each in solemn order followed each,
With something of a lofty utterance drest—
Choice word and measured phrase, above the reach
Of ordinary men; a stately speech;
Such as grave Livers do in Scotland use,
Religious men, who give to God and man their dues.

He told, that to these waters he had come
To gather leeches, being old and poor:
Employment hazardous and wearisome!
And he had many hardships to endure:
From pond to pond he roamed, from moor to moor;
Housing, with God’s good help, by choice or chance,
And in this way he gained an honest maintenance.

The old Man still stood talking by my side;
But now his voice to me was like a stream
Scarce heard; nor word from word could I divide;
And the whole body of the Man did seem
Like one whom I had met with in a dream;
Or like a man from some far region sent,
To give me human strength, by apt admonishment.

My former thoughts returned: the fear that kills;
And hope that is unwilling to be fed;
Cold, pain, and labour, and all fleshly ills;
And mighty Poets in their misery dead.
—Perplexed, and longing to be comforted,
My question eagerly did I renew,
“How is it that you live, and what is it you do?”

He with a smile did then his words repeat;
And said, that, gathering leeches, far and wide
He travelled; stirring thus about his feet
The waters of the pools where they abide.
“Once I could meet with them on every side;
But they have dwindled long by slow decay;
Yet still I persevere, and find them where I may.”

While he was talking thus, the lonely place,
The old Man’s shape, and speech—all troubled me:
In my mind’s eye I seemed to see him pace
About the weary moors continually,
Wandering about alone and silently.
While I these thoughts within myself pursued,
He, having made a pause, the same discourse renewed.

And soon with this he other matter blended,
Cheerfully uttered, with demeanour kind,
But stately in the main; and when he ended,
I could have laughed myself to scorn to find
In that decrepit Man so firm a mind.
“God,” said I, “be my help and stay secure;
I’ll think of the Leech-gatherer on the lonely moor!”

It clicks,
And ticks,
And chatters,
Always holding,
Always showing,
But never slowing.

Caw! Caw! Calls the crow on a crisp fall morning
Nevermore! Nevermore! Yells the ravens forewarning
The mist lifts into the air
As the sun begins to rise
The priests are sending up a prayer
Babies shouting out their cries
The dog down the street going bark! bark! bark!
The canary next door gives a little whistle
Out of the brush in a hurry ***** a swift lark
Away dashes a bunny, straight into the thistle
A squirrel chatters away
At a cat prowling close
Diving in, a daring jay
Caught by the cat, almost
Never was there a morning
So busy as this
To hear the birds all chirp and sing
To describe in a word…bliss

When the moon retires running her length
the river lies a fishbone on the white plate
feebly breathing like the slosh from oars,
the shadow digs a hole in the bush.

The faintest chill rattles don't escape
and the chatters dull as broken notes,
the shadow picks up from the mist
with the intent of an absorbed dreamer.

The gold diggers in that forbidden land
filter their preys keen to fill some more
from the mines lining the grey riverbank
with each reap a little closer to attainment.

The precise compass weighs the measure
tightening the muscles into a symphony
for that climb onto the ****** in one spring
before stealing the stilled, deep into silence.

Push me
through the avenue of trees

Anne said
I’m ******* with the kids

asking how I lost my leg
and so you pushed

the wheelchair
along the avenue

out of sight of others
away from their childish chatters

and ball games
and cries of want and woes

go on you skinny ****
push push

she muttered
and you pushed on the handles

with all your might
over the dry grass

and she rocked
up and down

and side to side
until she bellowed

this will do small fellow
rest me here

and you let go
of the handles

and puffed for breath
and looked at her

sitting there
in the wheelchair

with her bright eyes
and black hair

and she pulled
your hand towards her

and laid it on her one leg
and said

that’s your reward
for pushing me

and she rubbed your hand
over the red skirt

the soft texture
warming the skin

you watched her hand
holding yours

her other hand holding
the side of the chair

sensing her softness
beneath the hardness

and brashness
but saying nothing

just taking in
the sensations and newness

and she said
just as well Matron

hasn’t seen this
or it’d give her

such a flush
and she laughed

and let go of your hand
and your hand lingered

over her thigh
like a bird set free

waiting to take
to the sky.

Sitting here
Where your body lies
Your heart deafened
Your life gone by

As the birds chirp
And life chatters away
I hear you
Loud and clear on this day

Your life beckons
Full
And dear

I miss you Ouma
My partner in crime
My maat
My beste vriend

Ek mis ons gesprekke
In Afrikaans
Ek mis jou lag
Jou Rooi rosige wange
Jy

En Ek sit hier
Sonder jou

I haven't felt myself since you've been gone
I've been empty
Waiting
For someone to help this yearning
This longing in my heart

I sit beside your grave
Tears clenched in my eyes
Holding back my own life

I miss you Ouma
I miss you so
And forever I will be empty
Without you
As I am
Yearning
For you so.

Body language, it must be her body language
I catch myself staring at her confidence, sorry girl if I can't explain this
You see your aura shows gold and your passion shines bright
Your heart beats fast because of your sleepless, nervous nights
Of the thought that a man may actually know how to treat ya, greet ya, and hell maybe show honest affection
He may actually just wanna lay with you and hear you speak without any degrating corrections
You're a star. Beyond that in this abstract world where you and I are
As we lay ontop of the car and I point out the Little Dipper you show me the idea of comfortable love by tomorrow
Midnight kisses, sensation from my misses
It's the opportunities in life's that we should cherish that's my mission
Tear drops coming from a broken mask as we bash and I pour my stubborn heart into her empty glass
To find something that can forever last
No matter what the sceptics say
Girl, I don't listen to chatters I listen to only what my mind will say.
Follow me. I wanna guide you. I wanna show you. I know I didn't allow myself to feel the grasps of a good woman
But I held on
**I never released. I believe in the chance of us...can you believe in the idea of me?

I fear not those who fear me
In bitter disgust
I do as I please and aim to please you not
You could hate me in chatters of matters in squads
I'll sit back comfortably and applaud your abilities to judge
Good
Bad
Right
Wrong
It's such a grey area
Thanks for letting me know

I am from jumping from school to school, making new friends and trying to keep old
From long car rides on deserted streets late at night, through rain and snow, words coming through the speakers nice and low
From a big family that always talks and chatters, laughing and making jokes that no one else can say

I am from state fairs that tempt you with sweet food and amazing memories forever in your thoughts
From camps where I learn to write like my brain is on fire and how I am ‘normal’ even with my condition
From shots of insulin, needles piercing my skin and  blood sugar tests ten times a day, wearing my calluses with pride

I am from colors filling the pages as my hands move quickly across the paper, making outlines and shadows, filling whats left with color
From writing like crazy, my mind never stopping with the ideas that flood it daily
From writers calluses and the pounding of keys as I try to get my ideas down before they leave

I am from not being athletic, but still being active, running and letting myself be free
From my feet hitting the ground, my legs aching as I just run my heart out
From crossing the finish line with a smile on my face and a finish in my heart

I am from church full of people who love me like their own and help me with my faith
From a community that helps me learn more and help move others
From a group of people that wants me to be my best and is a second family to me

I am from a family of many, who are all so diverse
From my parents who couldn’t be more different and my siblings who I couldn’t love more
From my nephew who already is just like his auntie Jess

I am from a group of close knit friends who are more like family
From friends who constantly tease me for the little things I do
From family who may not be related but still loves me the same

I am from relatives and friends who live close and far
From some I only talk to when I must, and others I talk to everyday
But, I am especially from people who love and care for me

dark i sit
with hands
     carving a bowl
                          holding\chest
digging dark soil
       mouth filling with thick spit
lips seeping

                              moist air of solstice

darkness chatters like compounding bone\shifts
    beastlings drooling  

tasting it. tensing root.

     sipping in(to) darkness

exhaling  bounty

Under the hum of streetlights, bicycle flutters gather,
the sheer grey range reconstitutes as starless black.

From the faraways and thoroughfares voices wail, near
and distant, chatters of sirens rattle through night black.

Through park lands peach blossoms twirl, and twirl,
even here the pine winds chant can be heard.

~~~

Hedges in dimensions perfect mark path edges,
flower beds in colours calculated rest in immaculate squares.

Gusts from four corners trail blossoms in ten directions,
iron shears cannot cut the pine wind.

~~~

Grey monoliths transform into black sentinels,
flutters of bicycles seek out the shop fronts,

radiant weaves of neon chatter bright,
the night tie just rolls, and rolls.

~~~

We felt the winter moving through the air
but didn't feel it sink into our bones—
as by and by it settles into stones—
and yet it did. I can't recall just where

we were when I first felt that we were cold,
but I remember how you shivered even
in our bed beneath the blankets, even
under all my weight that you could hold,

insisting it was coming from within
your bones, deep down, and radiating out
to make your hand feel chilly in my own.

And now I've got the shivers, too. My skin
is cool with winter, chatters in my mouth,
as by and by it settles in a stone.

He sits alone and in silence
Atop the silver birch
High above the forest floor

Watching with attentive eyes
As moonlight flirts playfully,
Shadow dancing among the many
Silver branches

At the heart of the forest,
The brook chatters endlessly
Of adventures through mountains
So high their peaks are lost in
****** clouds, of underground
Rivers raging unseen beneath
Valleys filled with first
Spring lilies

The weary critters gather
To lap at cool waters,
Ignoring the incessant babble
As they keep a wary eye
On lurking shadows

High above, his sharp eyes
Glimpse outlines in the darkness,
Hidden shapes imitating bush
And fern, almost motionless
Yet moving

He utters a single sound,
A whisper barely audible
Above the ceaseless chatter
Of the brook

The hunters arrive and
Sniff the air, traces of
Prey still lingering,
But the trail grows cold

The brook continues to regale
The night air with tales

Seemingly unaware
They are no longer listening

Seemingly unaware
They never were

Outside, heading eastbound
It's getting warmer outside,
sun is shining, sky is blue.
It all feels right.

Out for a few nights,
music is so loud
colours going everywhere; blue, green, yellow, red, purple;
kaleidoscopic
I wanna dive in
and swim
I miss the tropics.

Pain all around
shooting following shooting
I'll work it out
distant chatters just
filter out into choruses
and phase out.

Ringing in my ears
nose bleeding
memories fading
no more colours
just black

**...

I love the sounds of seagulls and I know why
It makes me think of special days gone by
Early morning walking thru the dunes
Listening to them ‘singing’ all their tunes

Racing the surf, jumping waves and building castles
With those gulls flying low with all their chatters
They glide by with eagle eyes and notice all
Just in case a wee morsel of food might fall

The countless hours we lay upon the beach
Listening to every little screech
They came and looked at us and then
Decided they were not into our Zen

And when the ocean winds begin to blow
And gusts of air move in with every flow
These creatures catch the air and soar along
And keep us all alerted with their song

And now I close my eyes and take a breath
And feel the sea air in my chest
I hear the rise and fall of seagull sounds
When they frolic in the air of coastal grounds

©By Jane Jan 16, 2011

Don't you worry your head away
Morning will come and the past will subject to fade
All the regrets and all the words chattering in a pessimist way
It's lost me from you in the dragging night
I heard your whispers carry through the dusty floor,
And the undusted surfaces of this home of ghosts
You said you needed a little time to be alone
Never wanted anything more, more seemed too undeserving
You're fighting battles hoping someone would come along to end it all
To finally understand, and love you for whom you are
I did, I asked, there was nothing I wanted more.
But you refused to let me in
I wasn’t the prize, I never got the win.
Don’t wait in the day and night for that perfect person
I could be standing there, here with you
With all the love you need, all the tenderness for two
I’ll dust the shades to let the light shine through
I’ll clean you up, clean you to who you were before
Just break down this barrier
Burn off the padlock
Throw away that awful key
I’ll love you forever, forever, and forever more
I see the giant anchor holding your head bent towards the surface
I say it’s time to unhook you
Let you see the majestic world
Hold my hand,
This friendship will never let go, you anchored head
Let me be your regret you will never want to forget
And you’ll always be my 2 am late night shift
Not sleeping, talking
Conversing repetition, circling chatters around in our heads,
Our free heads,
Our clear minds,
Cause we’ll learn how to share and cope together
Define the fine lines

Rain pours down on the window
tip tap, tip tap, tip tap
The bluebird sings a mournful song
The squirrel chatters sorrowful encouragement
The wind whistles in grief
All is silent.

The rain clouds break into a beautiful sunrise
Beautiful songs of unison emerge from above
The angels of heaven above
Sing their never ending song of joy
For the spirits of the departed
Have risen from the dead
And united with the Holy Savior

I'm lost with and without you!
And I'm asking myself..... what about me!
The Hell became my Castle!
Devils are my chatters!
The funny that they will be lost as well...
What is more funniest...
They will still be chatters with me in the...
                                           The wonder! :)

As the moon found its way to the sky, the crowd began to spill in. Chatters about how this will be a new start drowned the screams of a skeptical man, and the extravagant lights towered over the burning stars; we forget that they exist.

I watched the short castle walls and bobbing skulls. How lucky are these children that they have not lost their heads;

for the mannequins had half their head mutilated. It wasn't a pity- they needed no eyes, they didn't have a soul anyway. It's funny how they looked pleasing to the human eyes though. So hauntingly beautiful, like an incomplete work of a deranged artist.

I wonder if they had forgotten to take down the christmas decorations, or if it was newly hung for the new year. The lights seemed to drip down scrawny fingers; the tree must have inhaled rusted air from the killing machines on the road.

I could already picture crowds downtown getting ready for a countdown to nothing meaningful. As they release the fireworks into the skies, it shall catch the undivided attention of wandering eyes. Tired eyes light up at the sight of explosions and the smoke cling so tightly to their skin without them knowing. They're lucky smothered skin doesn't complicate their breathing. Or are they not? At least no one will consider getting under their skin anymore.

5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

oh another night has passed, but why hasn't the sun risen?

Out of the dark shadows
a night bird shrieks

The howl of the lost
and forgotten
   chatters the green monkey

The man with a red guitar
dances in the Mexican heat

Discordant broken strings
of music
   fill the desolute night

The shreik of the green monkey
murders the soul...

.....Soooo do you want to know something rather funny I heard
& know for a fact is completely absurd
this did I hear from a friendly little bird
Who I can trust is true to their word
there's this boy I use to know really well
Who's running around with all these stories he's trying to tell
about me being so horrible & I'm going to hell
he must have tripped & hit his head when he fell
Telling his new "lady", a  lady she is not, not in any state
all these lies about me when we used to date
it's just ******* & drama he's trying to create
I'm not sure what I did to him for me to receive all this hate
I personally thought I was great
I am just glad things changed to rearrange my fate........

......Meanwhile....
Another conversation was being held....
"Honey!", he calls "I have a date night arranged."
"We can talk & post stories about my ex, I know it sounds strange...."
....BUT you're my shoulder to cry on, he thinks to himself, I shouldn't have ever replaced
I wish I could retrace......

....Now....I have this random thought hit, just out of no place
They must sit around their fireplace
Seeing how much they can say to destroy my name's good grace
Hmmmm..I guess it's my face
he cannot seem to erase...

Let's get back to a happier state
where you can see why there wasn't a need for a debate &...

before I was in too deep & it was too late
this is what this idiot said
I swear he's mental in his head
who knew this is where our split would've led
& surprisingly don't you think, since I was dumped, it would be me in which the lies were spread
instead the table has turned
& it's me they want to make sure gets burned
but they're dumb & to ignore those who don't matter is what I've learned
So their little game will get nothing out of me
& I really have no reason to be concerned
& no need for comebacks or smart remarks to be returned
I'm over this ****
& I find it hilarious too, that he's saying I used to hit
Apparently I was abusive & violent
like I beat him??... is that what he meant
because anybody who hears this will surely know it's completely ridiculous, wonder how much time with that he spent
making me sound like such a bad ***, what a compliment
definitely he's lost his mind, it's a few screws in which he seems to miss
he's also quite confused, since it was me he called useless
& how I was always lazy
but now you can all see it wasn't me who was crazy
& for whatever reason it may be
That **** talking & lied about me
is what he decides to do is beyond anything I can see
I have moved on with my life
& at first the pain hurt like getting cut over & over with a dull knife
It was  just time to finally end the strife
I happily continue on & that is all just a story I tell starting with this.... It all began once upon...
... upon a time where I was "in love" but now it's long gone...
there was a new girl he had gotten
but strange it was me he still had not forgotten
To me he wasn't someone I thought about often
All these lies he's getting caught in
make him look even more & more rotten
& even his mother, the one he could trust in
she lost her faith in little boy because he continuously tells her to him she means nothin'
But we both know who, in the end really matters
& to ignore their endless chatters
when their world comes crashing down & all they have shatters
it's maybe then they'll finally get what it is they both are so desperately after
'cause from me & his mother, all they'll get is points & laughter
so go ahead & spread all your vicious lies
doesn't bother me at all, go ahead with all your tries
the more you hate on me, the more & more I become more wise
I guess I'm just always on your brain, well isn't that a surprise
I do have one thing to say
as I go about my each & every day
I'm glad things happened this way
to show me, I'm way better off if I didn't stay
So listen carefully to my words that I speak
& they may come as a shock
the time has definitely passed on the clock
can't you hear it's tick, tick, tock?
So that means GET THE ******* MY ****!!
Before I ******* hit you with a ROCK!!
& then I'll leave your body outlined in chalk
So you better be careful with the **** you talk
& if you see me out, it's the other way you better walk
even though it's flattering that it's me you want to stalk
but it's getting ridiculous
& there is just one more thing I want to confess
I'm so much better now without so much stress
I'm just sorry you are now a complete mess
Now maybe you can see, it was always you who was worthless
& that I was actually quite priceless
BUT this is what you wanted, I guess
I'm much better I must say & my friends all are glad I'm not ending up hopeless
So when people ask me "are you moved on?" I can HAPPILY say "YES!!"
because I'm now filled with peace & happiness