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Terry Collett Jul 2015
Hannah and Benedict
sat on the floor
of her bedroom

playing chess
outside it was raining
hitting against
the windows

your move
Hannah said

Benedict moved
his pawn forward

Hannah's mother(Mrs Scot)
walked along the passage
by the open door
whit ur ye daein?

playing chess
Hannah said

wa haur?
Mrs Scot asked

where else?
Hannah replied

in th' dinnin room
Mrs Scot said

what's up?
Benedict asked

she wants us to play
in the dinning room
Hannah said

oan th' table
nae th' fluir
Mrs Scot said firmly

awe rite Maw
Hannah said

so Hannah picked up
the chessboard carefully
and carried it into
the dinning room
balancing the board
so that the pieces
were where they were

Benedict followed behind
hands in the pockets
of his jeans
Mrs Scot eyeing him
with beady eyes
her hair covered
in a tartan headscarf

Hannah set the board
on the table
and Benedict and she
sat at the table
to resume their game

Mrs Scot walked off
muttering to herself

whose move?
Benedict asked

mine now
Hannah said

why couldn't we play
on the floor of your room?
he asked

God knows
Hannah replied
as she moved her bishop
along the black squares
your king's in trouble
Hannah said

Benedict looked
at the board
and moved his
pawn forward to block
and protect his king

Mrs Scot appeared
in the doorway
staring at them
hoo lang ur ye
gonnae be?
she asked

not long the way
Benedict's playing why?
Hannah said

it has stopped rainin'
sae ye can gang it
Mrs Scot said

Benedict gazed at Hannah
then at Mrs Scot

ok won't be long
Hannah said

Mrs Scot went off
and Hannah moved her bishop
and said

Benedict looked
at the board and saw
that he was

so there you are
he said
so do we have
to go now?

Hannah nodded her head
yes it's best
so she packed up
the pieces
and the game board  
and took them to her room

Benedict followed
watching her as she
put the game away

then they walked
to the door and went out
into the morning air
with Mrs Scot at the door
giving them
the dark stare.
Terry Collett Nov 2015
Sae whit did ye dae?
Hannah's mother asked
when Hannah returned
from swimming with Benny

ah went swimmin'
Hannah replied

so where's he noo?
her mother said
looking past
her daughter's head

he's in th' cludgie
Hannah said

what's the' matter
wi' heem?
her mother said frowning

he's havin' a ***
Hannah replied

whit ur ye dae efter?
her mother said

Benny came out
of the toilet
and stood by Hannah
everything all right?
he asked

never better
Hannah said
come on
let's go in my room
and I can show you
the new knife
my dad got me

whit ur ye daein'?
Mrs Scot said

we're going to my room
and I'm showing
Benny my new knife
Hannah said

weel dornt sit
oan th' scratcher
she said moodily
and walked off
to the kitchen

Benny and Hannah
went to her bedroom
and closed the door

I see your mum's
her usual happy self
Benny said quietly

o don't mind her
her bark is as bad
as her bite
and Hannah laughed
sit down
and I'll show you
the knife

but your mum said
not to sit on the bed
Benny said

what she can't see
won't hurt her
Hannah said

Benny watched her
as she went to a drawer
and sorted amongst
many knives
many of which
he'd seen before

there was a knock
at the door
whit ur ye tois daein'?
Mrs Scot said

I'm showing Benny something
Hannah replied

Mrs Scot walked off
and said nothing more

that'll get her thinking
Hannah said smiling

thinking about what?
Benny said

never mind
about what
if it gets her thinking
it's a good thing
Hannah said

sitting beside Benny
showing him
the new knife
on her single
bouncy bed.
Hannah Beasley Dec 2017
A name is but a label that has branded us for life
A name such as my own, Biblical in nature
Meaning so much more to me than “The grace of god”
With a heart for spoken word
And a mouth more than capable
Who knows the great pleasure of the perfect phrase
And always has something to say
I’ve got a way with words,
And I’m stronger than most
A heavy heart,
And gentle hands
With uncle lost to a smoking gun,
At the scene of a suicide
A snapping turtle beneath my skin
Timid but fierce
With intellect in my veins
And curiosity all the same
Like a pine cone
Those rough and pointy edges remind me of my own
Made from good intentions
And full of pride
Backwards I am the same,
For I have only one face.
My two-toned mind
Damaged, but alive
My bipolar-stained brain
Depression? or mania?
Because what good is “the grace of god”
if he only chooses to pit you against yourself
For I am my only rival
Or Peninnah I should say
For while god's word may be gracious
It is my name not his
Jade Jan 2019
⚠Trigger Warning; the following poem contains subject matter pertaining to suicide, self-harm, and eating disorders⚠
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i wish i was dead
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!


(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
Terry Collett May 2015
I walk across
to Hannah's flat
in Arrol House
and knock at the door

Mrs Scott opens
the door and stands there
she's a short thin woman
with a face of granite
with a slit
where her mouth is

whit is it?
she says
her Scottish accent
rough as stone

is Hannah home?
I ask

I dunnae kinn
she replies
she bellows
over her shoulder
Benedcit is haur fur ye
she adds
scowling at me

jist coming
Hannah replies
from back in the flat

yoo'll hae tae bide
Mrs Scott says

and walks back inside
leaving me
on the red tiled step

I look into the interior
of the flat
and smell breakfast
having been cooked

I look back
into the Square
kids are playing
near by
on the pram sheds
and over by the wall
girls are doing handstands
their feet
against the wall
dresses falling
over their heads
showing underwear

sorry about Mum
she has a mouth on her
Hannah says
where we going?
she asks

thought we'd go
to the South Bank
see the Thames and boats
and have ice cream
I say

do I need money?
she asks

just about 2/-
I say
for bus fares
and ice cream

I'll ask Mum
for a handout
but wait for the answer

Mum have you 2/-
I can have?
Hannah asks

fa dae ye hink
Ah am Rockerfeller?
nae Ah huvnae
her mother replies

no problem
I say to Hannah
I'll have enough
for us both

are you sure?

yes don't aggravate
your mother more
than you have to

so Hannah gets her coat
and we walk off
through the Square

she's like that sometimes
Hannah says
she's as tight
as a wing nut

we walk down the *****
and up Meadow Row

I ask her how her father is

she says
he's Ok but in
the doghouse more often
as not with Mum
but he's a softy
to Mum's hardness
but Mum says
he's soft in the heed
but he's lovely really
Hannah says

-I know her old man
he's English and a bit
simple after helping
to empty out Belsen camp
in 1945 where some
he told me were
more dead as alive-

we wait at the bus stop
she with her dark hair
pony tailed
with a tartan skirt
and white blouse
and me in blue jeans
and white shirt
and quiff of brown hair
and hazel eyes

she with a budding beauty
with her mother's
touch of tongue
who if roused
could give words
full lung.
Terry Collett Jun 2015
They met in the Square. Weather warm and sun sticky. Hannah was in her short dress and sandals. Benedict in jeans and tee shirt and black plimsolls. It was Saturday and they'd decided to give the morning matinee a miss and go elsewhere. We can go and paddle on the side of the Thames, she said. Can we? He asked. Sure we can. He wasn't sure. Is it wise? He said, what with all the crap that's put in? She looked at him. We're not to drink the water, just paddle in it. It's water, not **** pool, she said. Won't we need towels? No, our feet'll dry in the sun. She eyed him. How old are you? Twelve, he said. Not a baby, then? She said. No, he replied. We're both twelve, she said, so let's go get our feet wet. What did your mum say when you told her where you were going? I didn't, Hannah said. Why not? He said. Because she'd have said:Ye cannae gang in th' Thames. So I didn't tell her. What did you say? He asked. Said I was going to see boats on the Thames. What did she say to that? Benedict asked. Dornt faa in th' water, she said. Benedict laughed at Hannah's mocking her mother's Scottish dialect. What did you say to her? Hannah pulled a straight face, stern features. I said, Ah willnae. He laughed again. Right let's be off, she said. They walked out of the Square and up Meadow Row. Did you tell your mum where you were going? Hannah asked. Just said I was going out with you, he said. What did your mum say? Hannah asked. She said ok and be careful, he replied. They walked to the bus stop and got a bus to South Bank. The bus was crowded. They sat at the back on side seats. A plump man next to Hannah wiggled up close to her; his thigh touched hers. She felt uncomfortable. He smelt of sweat and cigarette smoke. She was glad when they got off. She stared at him and mumbled, ye mingin prat. Benedict said, what? Not you, that prat on the bus, touching me, she said. Benedict watched the bus go. You should have said, he said, we could have got him thrown off the bus. Too much hassle, she said. They walked along by the Thames, looking down at the water. Looks too high, Benedict said. Maybe later, she said. So they lay side by side on the grass by the Thames and enjoyed the sun.  Her fingers touched his. They were warm and dampish. He sensed her fingers against his. They turned and faced each other, finger still touching. Do you like me? She asked. Of course I do, he replied. She eyed him. I think of you a lot, she said. Do you? He said. She nodded. Yes, quite a bit, she said. O, right, he said, looking at her, taking in her darkish eyes and her hair in a ponytail. Have you ever kissed a girl before? She asked. He looked past her at the passing people. A man with a dog stared at them. I kissed my aunt once, he said, looking at her again. No, I meant a girl, not a relative, Hannah said. He thought, searching through his memory files. Don't think so, he said. Couldn't have been very good if you can't remember, she said. He never made a habit of kissing girls: other boys frowned on such behaviour. He had kissed a girl with one leg once at a nursing home when he was eleven. A year ago, yes, he said, I kissed a girl with one leg a year or so ago. Where did you kiss her? Hannah asked, her leg? He smiled. No,on her cheek, he replied, remembering. Why did you kiss her? Hannah asked. She said I could. She was twelve and big and had just the one leg. Hannah looked at him. Took in his quiff of hair, the hazel eyes and the Elvis smile-she'd seen a photo in a magazine of Elvis Presley and loved the smile- and the set of his jawline. Do you kiss any girl with one leg? She asked.  No, he said, just that one time. She looked at him, her fingers beginning to squeeze his. Would you kiss me? She asked. He hadn't thought about it. Hadn't entered his mind. Did you want me to? He said. Do you want to, she replied. What would your mum say? She'd say: whit ur ye kissin' fur? . He laughed. It tickled him when she said spoke her mother's dialect. He looked at her face. Where? He said. Where what? She said. Kiss you? Where shall I kiss you? He said, feeling shy all of a sudden. Where did you want to kiss me? He looked away. Crowds were passing by on the South Bank. Don't know, he said, looking back at her. She sighed. Looked at him. Squeezed his fingers tighter. I'll kiss you, then, she said. She leaned close to him and kissed his cheek. It was a short kiss. He sensed it: warm and wet. Was that it? He mused. She lay there staring at him. Well? What do you think of that? She said. He wasn't sure. It felt all right. It was ok, he said. Just ok? She said, looking at him. He nodded. She drew him closer to her and kissed his lips and pressed long and hard. He panicked briefly as if he'd not breathe again, but he relaxed as her lips became glued to his, and he closed his eyes, and felt a mild opening in himself and he breathed through his nose. As she kissed him, her lips pressing on his, she felt a warm feeling rise through her body as she'd not felt before. It felt unreal. Felt as if she'd entered another body and was a spectator in a game. She pulled away from his lisp and stared at him. How was that? Sh asked. He lay there his eyes closed as if dazed. He opened his eyes. Gosh, he breathed rather than said. She blew out and lay back on the grass. He lay back, too. What would your mum say if she saw us kissing? She smiled and said, lae heem aloyn ye dornt ken whaur he's bin. Benedict laughed and closed his eyes trying to picture Mrs Scot saying it. What does it mean? He asked laughing. Leave him alone you don't know where he's been, she said smiling. She turned and looked at him again. He turned and gazed at her. The laughter died away. How do you feel? She asked. Feel about what? He said. No, how do you feel inside? She said. He didn't know. It was new to him this kissing. He sighed. Don't know. How about you? He said. Tingly, she said in reply. Inside me. My body tingled. Is that a good thing? He asked, uncertain of these matters. I don't know, she said, looking at him. Do you want to paddle in the Thames? He asked. No, not now, she said, I want to kiss again. They lay there gazing each other. Let's go elsewhere though, she suggested. Where? He asked. St James's Park, she suggested, we can get a bus there. Ok, he said. So they walked to the bus stop and got a bus to St. James's Park. It was crowded. People everywhere: walking, sitting, lying down, running. They both sat on then grass, then after a few minutes, they lay on the grass. Hannah stared at him. He looked at her eyes. She moved forward and kissed his lips. Pressed them, breathing through her nose, closed her eyes. He closed his eyes as she closed her eyes. His lips felt hers. Warming, pressing, wettish, her tongue touching his just on the tips. He felt as if suddenly as if he were falling and then he opened his eyes and she had moved away from him. Well? She said, how was that? He sensed his lips slightly bruised, but warm and he felt unusually alive. She gazed at him. She felt opened up as if someone had unzipped her and exposed her. It was good, he said, taking hold of her hand, holding it against his cheek. She sighed, it was  good, but it felt surreal, as if it had been a dream, not real, not her kissing. It was, she said, still kissing him inside of her twelve her old head.
Terry Collett Jun 2015
She sat on her bed
looking out the window.

Hannah looked at
the fulling rain.

Her mother passed by
the bedroom door
and looked in.

Whit ur ye daein'?
Her mother said.

Looking at the rain,
Hannah replied.

Ye can help me
wi' the washin',
her mother said.

Do I have to help
with the washing?

Her mother stared
at her
Whit ur ye
waitin' fur?

I'm waiting
for Benedict,
Hannah said,
gazing at her
mother's stern gaze.

O heem th'
sassenach loon,
her mother said
and walked off
down the passage.

Hannah waited.

She'd was pushing
her manners close
to the limits.

Once upon a time
her mother would
have slapped her
behind for talking so,
but now at 12 years
old her mother dithered
and set her tongue
to work instead.

She eyed the rain
running down the glass.

She could hear
her mother in the kitchen
banging pots and pans.

Then a knock at the door.

Benedict no doubt.

Gie th' duir, Hannah,
her mother bellowed.

Hannah went to the door
and let Benedict in.

He was wet, his hair
clung to his head
and his clothes were damp.

Got caught
in the downpour,
he said,
shaking his head.

Hannah smiled.

I'll get you a towel
to dry your hair,
she said.

She got him a towel
from the cupboard
and he began
to rub his hair.

We can't go out in this,
Hannah said,
have to stay here
and we can play games.

He rubbed his hair dry,
took off his wet coat
and stood by her bed.

What games?
he said.

Ludo? Chess?
Draughts? She suggested.  

Her mother came back
to the door of the bedroom.

Ye swatch dreich,
the mother said,
eyeing Benedict.

He looked at Mrs Scot
and then at Hannah.

Mum said you look drenched,
Hannah said.

O right, yes, I am,
he replied and smiled.

Mrs Scot didn't
smile back.

Dornt sit oan
th' scratcher,
Mrs Scot said icily.

Mum said don't sit
on the bed,
Hannah said.

Mrs Scot went
off muttering.

Where shall I sit?
He asked.

We'll sit on the floor,
Hannah said,
and play chess.

He nodded his head,
his quiff of hair
in a damp mess.
Tori Jurdanus Jun 2013
She Looks Like a Tiger
See how she places her paws so lightly, so as not to be heard.
Silently, she moves through the crowd, head held high, today she doesn't want to hide.
Depicted in peach coloured stripes. No red, no brown, no blue, no black.
Today, is the first day she felt it was safe to show them.
Asking for the first time in her life, for the world to continue doing what it's always done
Lean on her, sing her our our sorrows so she could sing them back and pretend, that we could not see her scars.
She has always been the brick wall.
The concert hall
The shoulder to cry on.
The logic you would chase after with your pedestrian problems and she was the designated driver.
But when it looks like you're a casual on bridges over troubled waters, there 's no one talking you down from the ledge.

She would never have asked you to.

Hannah, your name sounds like a semi-permanent tattoo.
I hope that's what this poem feels like to everyone who hears it
So that every time they think they know broken,
they feel cold lines crisscrossing their body and can honestly wonder,
was this feeling your blueprint.

But I think you look like tiger.  
And I know, I shouldn't give time to some little boys who refuse to use her real name because it fits her to well.
Callin' her some emo, weak hippie freak.
she's just looking for attention.
Because when you're the first person to make it through Hell and back alive, you're a liar.
A hitch hiker piggy backing on someone else's problems.
But her arms served as straightaways for razorblades for nine solid years,
and its no thanks to people like you she's still here.

You think, she should be ashamed of herself. As if scars are a ***** in the armour.
Like she was peer pressured into self-destruction and couldn't resist.
No one asks you:
"Hey there, wanna cut? Wanna, self-mutilate?"

Just like I won't ask you not to hate the idea of someone being that low
That every beat of the heart feels a little like ****** assault, and cutting was the best way she could find to say no.

She looks like a tiger,
and she didn't earn her stripes. People rarely do.
But she has earned the right to wear them for what they are;
Battle scars.
Things she's long overcome.
Her head is held high again.

And I know, I shouldn't be wasting my time on people
Who refuse to use her real name,
but Hannah is still Hannah inside out, upside down,
Backwards, Hannah is still Hannah,
Even with her insides out,
Hannah is still Hannah.
She's still here.
Terry Collett May 2015
Hannah lies
her collection of knives
on her bed
most given

by her father
-the largest
an SS knife
he took off a dead

SS man-
her mother
passing by
her open door

whit hae ye
those kni'es
oan yer scratcher fur?

I'm showing Benedict
my collection
Hannah replies
O heem

th' sassenach loon
Mrs Scott says
he's nice
Hannah says

and he likes knives
and guns
and he's interested
in seeing them

sae ye say
her mother says
and walks away
to the kitchen

Hannah sits
on her bed
and waits for Benedict
to arrive

she likes
the SS knife best
it has a kind
of haunting feel

about it
the door knocker bangs
gie th' duir

it's th' loon
so Hannah goes
to the door
and Benedict

stands there
come in and see
Hannah says
so Benedict follows her

into her bedroom
here's my collection
she says
showing him

the knives spread
on her bed
he picks up a knife
or two and weighs

them in the palm
of his hand
and feels along
the blade

he picks out    
the SS knife
and says
deadly thing this

have you one?
she asks
no I have a flick knife  
my uncle gave me

he puts the SS knife
down on the bed
fine collection
he says

and they both sit
on the bed
near the knives
at the one end

Mrs Scott walks by
and stops and says
waur ye sittin'
oan th' scratcher?

just sitting and looking
at the knives
Hannah says
nae oan th' scratcher

her mother replies
Benedict looks puzzled
and Hannah says
she doesn't want us

sitting on the bed
Benedict nods his head
and says
o right

and looks at Mrs Scott
who stares at him
sternly and walks off
something I said?

he asks
Hannah says
she doesn't trust us

sitting on the bed
why is that?
he says
God knows

Hannah replies
hearing her mother
cursing in the kitchen
like a buzz of flies.
Harriet Cleve Jun 2019
'Where is he now?'

'Room 35'

'His age?'

'Twenty 29'

'Has he spilled any brain fluid from the eye sockets?"

'He has not yet been placed on the neural cell divider'

'We were instructed to wait upon your arrival'

The two men faced one another. Equal in stature and authority.
Both were ghastly in their features. Sunken eyes that contained the
weary load of a harrowing existence. Intelligent though ravaged eyes that penetrated into the deepest recesses of the psyches of those quarantined in room 35.

Berdensharder walked past Halden.

Will you induce the full cerebral breakdown? said Halden

'I have not yet decided'

'Let me see him first.

Room 35 was secured and access permitted to Berdensharder.

He walked in and breathed the formaldehyde humidity.
His nasal passages recoiled in revulsion at the pungent sting of miserable brain fluid filters in suspension.

Facing him was the sample. A young man with a look of terror in his eyes.

He had been placed in a cranial clamp and was rigid in an upright steel frame. Electrodes hung like tentacles from a deformed squid.
Clouds of medicated bacteria floated in a transparent tube connected to the frame. The tubes had not yet been put in place.

'Your name?' said Berdensharder

'The young man was clamped by the wrists and ankles; naked and ashamed of his fear. His forehead was scarred and an incision led into his prefrontal cortex.

'Radsler Duriyima' came the reply

The voice was broken and clung to a false hope of salvation.
He had awoken in room 35 and had no knowledge of his previous weeks or months. His brain struggled to function.

'Your name! Berdensharder screamed is Gunther Strausse!

Tears flowed freely down Duriyima's face.

'No. My name is Radsler Duriyima'

This was the only lucid thought in his mind. He was sure of it. His life depended on this name.
Instinct was heightened as he said it again.

'Radsler Duriyima!'

Berdensharder switched on the cranium synaptic fluid uptake. He set it for distillation level four. This was normal and a precautionary first step in the cerebral breakdown initiation.

Duriyima's body convulsed and a screen in the room displayed his thought process and an image appeared on a screen.

The synaptic  responder projected the dulled translucent pictures of a face in a mirror. It was Duriyima's and he was shaving in an apartment. A grainy distorted vision interspersed with the sounds of a woman screaming. A gun blasted and then grey dull plastered walls rushing by. More screams. More walls. Blood splashed. Then black.

Suddenly Duriyima's eyes opened and Berdensharder sprayed a saline solution on the eyeballs which kept the eyelids from closing.
He took a surgical precision scalpel handed to him by Halden.
Slowly he slit the eyeball and removed a trace of fluid. Inserting a tube into the eye, his hand was a precision instrument and he gently placed it deeper into the back passage of Duriyima's eye.

Duriyima wanted to scream but was prohibited by a mouth gag soaked in a medicated solution.

His body shook the entire time in rapid convulsions. Only his head remained unmoved.

Tears flowed freely the entire time and the tear duct of the severed eye was gradually made redundant by Berdensharder.

Stepping back from his helpless sample Berdensharder looked upon the apparatus. He removed the gag.

'Now Mr Gunther Strausse!
'Your name!'

'Duriyima wanted to respond but only an animal like sound emitted from his throat.

A scream so horrific it would unnerve the servants of Satan

Halden looked at Berdensharder.

'Well, are you going to induce the full cerebral breakdown?'

'No. We will first get this sample to state his name.
'When Gunther  Strausse is ready to state his name then I shall do so'

Duriyima looked at the pair of them. What was going on?
Where was he? What did they want? His mind couldn't function.

The door of room 35 was closed and he was alone

One thought began to emerge. His name he now felt was Gunther Strausse.

He could not be sure. His thoughts ebbed into insanity.

Berdensharder would induce the full cerebral overload the following day.


Duriyima succumbed to massive shock, severe trauma, and paranoia.

He remained plugged into the filtration system for two hours in a semi conscious state. His brain ebbed with seismic brain wave cycles that sheared the integral subconscious of his existence.

One name repeatedly came to his mind, 'Gunther Strausse'
He tried to make sense of all that had happened as the fragility of his sanity took its toll. The face of Berdensharder took on a form in his thoughts. He felt nauseous and violently ill. His eye ached with an unbearable pain; his vision horribly strained and blurred.
The sound of a gunshot deafened his ears. His forehead was an explosion of activity and excruciating pain. Tears flowed from one of his eyes and this confused him. He sobbed and in a gibberish howl begged for deliverance.

He had this stomach churning sense he was in Hell and the torments he had endured were God's retribution.

He found his voice then.

'Sweet Jesus!' he screamed

'Not this! Not this!

'Son of God! Forgive! Forgive!

He begged till his bowels emptied and the stench of anonymity
reeked from his flesh.

Duriyima was very much still a part of the living; in a ghoulish grotesque quarter of a savage place reserved for aggressive science.

His screams and outbursts of terror had triggered an audio camera.

Berdensharder looked at the desperate features of Duriyima.

'No! Gunther Strausse' he said to himself.

'There is no God here'. 'Not for you nor any of us'

'God, Gunther Strausse, you will find has never heard of you'
'Not here'

'For you, only I control your emotions'
'I determine your quality of life'

'Yes! You will find out that betrayal is rewarded with surrealism!'

'I am your God!, Gunther Strausse'

Reaching his hand to a calibrated dial he adjusted the volume of the sound chamber to it's maximum decibel rating.

Duriyima's screams were relayed back to him and his ears bled with the intensity of the sound.

His mind collapsed in the wall of sound as his heart pulsed in rapid sickening beat patterns and it overtook the sound of his own screams.

'Yes!', Gunther Strausse, scream!  It will help you to realise it is all you have left.

Duriyima's body convulsed like a lightning rod for terror.
His brain burst with demented anguish and he collapsed into a nauseating nightmare.

Even in this state, Berdensharder followed him and the labyrinth
of Duriyima's mind became a battle ground for sanity.

Berdensharder's hand reached for the distillation filter system.
He employed the backwash switch and watched as the fluid of Duriyima's brain was circulated into the three micron carbon elements.

Halden looked on and met Berdensharder's eyes.

'It will be of no use' he said

'His mind can not cope with insurgent cells'

'He will never state he is Gunther Strausse'

A third figure looked on as Duriyima's face erupted in an explosion of hideous expressions.

'We shall see' said Gunther Strausse
'We shall see'

Room 35 crashed into an uncanny silence for three minutes'

Then a cacophany of sound hit Duriyims's ears

'Gunther Strausse' it wailed

'You are Gunther Strausse'

The cells in Duriyima's brain formed new synaptic networks forging in clusters around his prefrontal cortex.

Brain fluid started weeping from his sockets.

It was beginning to happen. His memories were being replaced.
His mind reborn. It was excruciating and still the wall of sound echoed and resounded in room 35

Gunther Strausse

Gunther Strausse

Gunther Strausse

Duriyima's eyes stared into an abyss of madness.

His tethered hands could not reach out to touch the face of sanity.
Deep inside his pysche he knew his ordeal was just beginning.

You took note of the cry for salvation?' Halden said to Berdensharder

'Of course, it is natural in the sample. The Amygdala reflex'

'He still retains a sense of deliverance. His amygdala is primitive and
primed for a search; a Saviour who will redeem him'

'There is no scapegoat here he will find. No burning bush.
No Good News from Christ'

'Still it is a sign of deep resistance' replied Halden

'It is a trivial issue and will be resolved'

'We will remove this superstition and replace it.

'He will question his sense of identity'

'He will becomre as Gunther Strausse and he will witness his own transformation.'

'Has the synopial fluid vat been prepared?


'I will inject his neo-cortex with an anti-aneurism sedation'

'He will beg for death soon but it will be denied'

'Nor shall he fully recover from the full cerebral breakdown'

'We are taking it to level six distillation tonight'

'Has the cryogenic vat been prepared for the body'


Duriyima will soon pray to be Gunther Strausse but prayer will abandon his faculties'

'He will endure and witness the five hour transcendence of terror'

Halden and Berdenschrader looked at one another knowingly.

'Has there been any further visuals  from the synaptic cells of Duriyima'

'Yes, a woman's face made a lucid and highly resonated image on the cerebral scanner last night'

'Only high resolution visuals are deemed important due to the high emotional energy associated with them'

' She has been identified?

'Even now she is being prepared for Room 35'

'Good, good. This will please Gunther Strausse'

'Now, let us immerse Duriyima into his new reality'

Halden and Berdensharder dressed into the rubber robes and secured the brain aprons in place.

Entering Room 35 they looked at the sample. He was under a deep induced coma. Berdensharder took a scalpel to his forehead.
A vacuum switch was enabled and a surgical cutting tool prepared to remove Duriyima's brain for temporary relocation.

Halden and Berdensharder looked at the clock on the clean-room walls. They had a five hour window to take Duriyima into a purged state of cerebral surveillance.


Hald­un rolled his sleeve up as Berdensharder prepared injection 19 and prepared to administer the dose.

'You have no need to worry Halden'

'It is routine now at this stage especially for you'

'This will be your seventh full cerebral surveillance of a sample'

'I have brought you back every time'

'You are safe with me. Your brain, your body will be unscathed'

'I hear a citation of merit will soon be yours'

'Gunther Strausse will award it to you personally'

'You are a loyal servant Halden, I will see you in five hours'

Halden looked at Berdensharder. Each man had suffered in their own way since 'the shutdown' took place.
Only their intelligence and guile had ensured their survival.

'Yes, Berdensharder, I know it. You will bring me back.

Then Halden passed into an induced coma.

The rig was in place and Berdensharder lifted Haldens skull like a door on a hinge. The titantium bolts were embedded deep into his skull. Delicately and with great precision twenty five electrodes were inserted into Haldens brain.

Berdensharder switched the spinal column reverse chamber.
A two way valve tripped the automatic pulmonary Gemini blood cell network. Haldens body remained in live peaceful repose.

The clock ticked in time with his heart and his brain was placed into the electrolytic vat.

In the same way and with the same urgency and diligence the brain of Radsler Duriyima was placed along side Haldens.

Level six distillation was in progress. Berdensharder now set about
the procedure which would take Duriyima to the verge of a mental breakdown.
In room 35 a young woman aged twenty four stared back at her tormentor.

Her hands and feet were restrained in an upright frame.

A cranial brace secured and held her head rigid.

On the screen facing her was an image of Berdensharder

'Your name?'

Hannah Prestovsky's mind was confused. She had no recollection of the last hours or days. Her mind struggled to function.

Only her name surfaced to her mind. The only lucid thought she had. Her name was Hannah Prestovsky. She knew her life depended on this name.

'My name', she stuttered, 'is Hannah Prestovsky'

'No! Your name is Gunther Strausse!

Tears flowed down her face. She was naked and ashamed of her fear.

'No, she said. My name is Hannah Prestovsky!"

She sobbed and emptied her bowls as the stench of terror rose from her body.

'I am a diplomat!' she cried

'I demand immunity! In the name of God who are you?'

'Silence settled broken finally by the image on the screen.
The voice of Berdensharder boomed from the speaker.

' No, you are no longer represented by any government authority'

'God is no longer here to deliver you into his protection'

' Now, your name?'

Hannah Prestovsky screamed till her lungs exploded with exhaustion.
In an area of this room sealed from her screams, the brain of Radsler Duriyima was about to undergo full cerebral surveillance.

­Duriyima's brain lay pulsating in the neural vat. The electrodes in his brain were connected to those in the brain of Halden.
Berdensharder was engaged in the system flowpath direction.
When he tripped the one -way valves it was essential Halden's brain fluid flowed into Duriyima's.

In this 'full wash surveillance' Halden's consciousness would merge with Duriyima's. If the process was successful then those thoughts held in the synaptic network of Duriyima's would be an open book to Halden. His brain would retain all that was contained within Duriyima's. It was unprecedented technology and had not yet failed.
Each time on relocation of Halden's brain, he was able to give a full account of the life of the sample. It was as if he was the sample.

Every fear, every concern or hope was disclosed to Halden.
No one else in the facility was capable of undergoing a surveillance of this nature. Others had tried it but in all cases both the sample and the invasive consciousness died within minutes.

Halden and Berdensharder were the only team to ever secure consistent trials to unheard of 'five hour' deep cerebral surveillance
and succeed in securing the neural data of the sample. Their method became known as the 'five hour transcendence of terror'.

Berdensharder looked at Halden. His admiration for his associate was deep and he envied him his courage. He was ruthless of course but he had an air of dignity about him. Berdensharder thought too that Halden would escape one day. If that ever happened he shuddered to think of the repercussions.

All these thoughts were fleeting and the flashing instruments alerted him to his first function. He would light up the prefrontal cortex of Duriyima first.

He looked at the calibration settings on the visual imaging screen.
Then  he stared at the live body of Duriyima. The body was an empty vessel although every spinal output was connected to the remote brain of Duriyima. Audio and visual scanners would enable Duriyima to witness his own detachment.

This was the reason for anti-aneurysm injections into the new-cortex of the sample. It always freaked them out.

The worst was the brains response to it's isolation from the body.
The 'language to vocal' response was recorded and displayed to a digital readout. The voice was an algorithm. The screams became white noise.

When the sample recovered from the shock it was then the voice became an artificial sound emanating from the instrumentation panel.

Before Halden could immerse into Duriyima an interrogation was initiated.

Berdensharder turned on the system to awaken Duriyima.
Slowly Duriyima responded. His body responded in simultaneous response to his brain.

He could see the set up on the screen. It dawned on him that he had become an abomination.

Then he went into a full mental breakdown that created a white noise explosion that lasted for ten hideous minute.

'Yes! Scream. It is all you have left. Shortly your mind will open its gates to Halden'.

'Gunther Strausse will be planted in your brain'

'You will soon need your Saviour'

Duriyima knew it then. He must be in Hell. It could not be real.

None of this could be happening.

He didn't know what to do so he screamed.

The scream of the demented.

A smile traced the face of Berdensharder.

Berdensharder waited till the white noise finally stabilised.
He knew the sample was in deep pyschological  trauma.
This was a natural part of the procedure.
Duriyima's brain waves alternated between gamma and alpha rhythms.

A voice suddenly emanated from the speaker. It was monotone and the pitch was low. The sample was ready to communicate.

'Am I in purgatory?'

Berdensharder did not respond. He reached forward and opened an anthrax aerosol.

Reaching into the vat he opened a microscopic funnel into Duriyima's occipital lobe. He squeezed the aerosol which contained enough anthrax to poison a minuscule area of the brain. It went black immediately and the whole brain seemed to shrink in a futile sense of survival.

The white noise monitor went into a frenzy of sound.
It lasted for fifteen minutes. Duriyima was in agony.

When the noise subsided the brain was lifted from the vat.
Berdensharder removed the black tissue for sample analysis.

He watched the screen as he cauterised the area.
Duriyima's body was writhing in intensified terror.
He knew the whole procedure was witnessed by Duriyima as though he were a third party.

The body was in convulsions; at times seemed as though it might break free of it's restraints.

'No, Gunther Strausse, you are going nowhere'
'Now let us listen to some classical music shall we?'

A beautiful piano concerto filled  the air and the vibrations settled into the brain vat. Berdensharder looked at Halden's face as a smile broke out on his features.

This pleased him to see his associate receive some pleasure.
The music always worked. The brain always responded.
He looked then to Duriyima's face. It was contorted in a ghoulish grimace. Even so, the brain wave activity settled to level fifteen.

The body slumped now and the eyes were catatonic.
Berdensharder needed to leave the sample undisturbed for fifteen minutes. If it went into cerbral flatline then he would administer sedative eighty four. This always brought the sample back from the corridors of death.

From experience he expected the sample's next words would be 'my name is Gunther Strausse'

This had to be the way. The brain needed to survive. This was the name it must give. It must give it in no uncertain terms.

It feared the anthrax. The unknown. It feared the interference of nature. It must be placed back in its body. It must co-operate.
It must state 'my name is Gunther Strausse'

Berdensharder was patient. Thirty minutes passed and once again the white noise subsided.

The brain was in active mode once again. The samples vital statistics were stable.

The music was discontinued.

'Now, Gunther Strausse, what is your name?'

The sound monitor responded in a hesitant slow manner.

'My name is Gunther Strausse'

'Did you not tell me your name was Radsler Duriyima?' Berdensharder replied

'My name is Gunther Strausse'

Berdensharder was in full control and raised the terror level.

'No! Your name is Radsler Duriyima!'

'You have never heard of Gunther Strausse'

The White noise from the sound monitor went catastrophic.
Duriyima's brain screamed in agony. Had it not been for the anti-aneurysm injected previously it would have phyically exploded.
The body went into convulsions.

'Who are you?' screamed Duriyima

'Who are you?!'

Berdensharder smiled and replied 'It is who you will be that is the question'

'It is who you shall be!'

It was time now to open the non-return valve and allow Halden to enter the consciousness of Duriyima.

The White noise on the screen indicated that Duriyima was on the verge of the full cerebral breakdown'

'Soon it will be over' said Berdersharder and reached to turn on the valve. Halden would now perform the full wash surveillance.


It was always a beautiful experience. Halden felt as if he were reborn and the world was an unexplored discovery. Here in the neural ocean of Duriyima's synaptic network of young cells he immersed himself deep in the private psyche of another human.
He searched the entire brain map of Duriyima and came to know that neural landscape as though it were his own.

Duriyima resisted of course and became aware of the invasion.
His screams were a peak of White noise on the visual audio scanner.

Berdensharder watched carefully. Halden would soon know every thought and experience that Duriyima ever possessed.
He cared not for the fate of Duriyima once they were finished with the sample. All that mattered was the complete subjugation of a private mind. The private would become public. This forced confession would become the norm. It was exhilarating to be a part of the destruction of the individual. Halden had shown remarkable courage and took great personal risk to achieve this break through in mind control. He had shown it was possible to inhabit another's brain. Once this was done it was a step away from world *******.
Those who control the mind control the future. The secrets of enemy States would be unlocked. One had only to capture the intelligentsia and key figures in an administration. Their minds would be ransacked. Berdensharder turned suddenly as footsteps unexpectedly approached.

It was Dr. Xuaguang Lee from sector 84.
Behind him was a young woman holding a syringe to his throat.

'What the hell is going on!' screamed Berdensharder

'Hannah Prestovsky was sick to the pit of her stomach at the sight she beheld.

'You are going to release Radsler Duriyima' she said venomously

Dr. Lee looked on with rising terror in his eyes.

'She is holding a lethal dose of injection 19!'  he screamed

'Do you think I give a **** about him?!' said Berdersharder

Shoving Dr. Lee away from her she ran to the neural vat.

Holding the syringe above the brain of Halden she lunged it into his brain stem.

'You fool!' Berdensharder screamed

'The body of  Halden went into cardiac arrest.

Halden was now locked into the consciousness of Duriyima.

There was no way back for him. He could now only survive if Duriyima survived.

Seeing her chance at the shock she had given to Berdensharder she siezed the anthrax spray and a chemical solution from the neural vat.

'I swear to God if you don't bring Duriyima back then he will die my way!'

Berdensharder's mind raced. He had to save Duriyima if he was to save Halden. He knew Duriyima and Halden were one now.
Could he do it? What would the result be? Gunther Strausse would ****** him if he did not bring them back.

'Step away from from the neural vat! he shouted

'If you have any thought for Radsler Duriyima then let me work!'

Dr. XuGuang made to run for the door and was shot instantly by Berdensharder.

Hannah screamed as the blood sprayed her face.

'No ! Berdensharder' she screamed

'You will give me that gun or it all ends here!
'She gestured to the neural vat and prepared to dose it with a chemical mix.

Berdensharder looked at her and knew she would do it.
He passed her the gun.
'Now! Let me work!' 'Every minute is vital!'

Hannah Prestovsky was sickened by this filthy abbatoir.
'Where the hell are we ? She thought

Berdensharder turned the one way valve and shut down the pulmonary system for Halden. He needed to work fast and get Duriyima's brain back into its body.

A surge of excitement ran through his veins.
Would Halden be able to communicate from his new mind.
Could Halden dominate Duriyima's brain.
'Step back from the neural vat! Please!

Hannah held the gun and watched the horrible spectacle before her.
Terry Collett Dec 2015
Ah guess ye want
tae see Hannah?
Mrs Scot said

yes if I can
I said

she stood at her door
like a fierce dog

guess ye can
she said unsmiling
and moved to let me pass
she bellowed

I stood in the passage
looking at her in hair curlers
and a cigarette clamped
at the side of her mouth

be it suin aam
in th' lavvy
Hannah said

she's in th' bog
Mrs Scot said

I nodded and stood
as she walked past me
into the kitchen
there was a smell
of boiled cabbage
filtering towards me

the toilet door opened
and Hannah came out
sorry about that
she said
let's go in my room
out of Mum's way

so I followed her
into her bedroom
and she shut the door

she's in a mood
Hannah said
Dad's been winding her up
before he went to work
now I have the full out
sit down on the bed
she added

so I sat on her bed
and she sat beside me
won't your mum mind me
sitting on the bed?

probably but if she
comes in we'll just get off
and smile at her
as if we'd forgotten
Hannah said  

I listened out
for her mother's footsteps

want to kiss me?
Hannah said

I hadn't thought about it
even after she mentioned it
the other day
did you want me to?
I said

do you want to?
she said

I looked at her
she was gazing
at me expectantly

I've not kissed a girl before
I said

(although Fay and I
had kissed but that
was different and she
had gone off with
her mother now)

it's easy you just kiss
Hannah said

I sat looking at her
waiting for something
to happen

like this
she said
and kissed me on the lips

I held my breath
sensing her lips on mine
and not sure if
I was allowed
to breathe or not

she moved away a little
and stared at me
like that?
she said

I nodded

was it good?

I nodded my head
and yes it was
I said
taking a deep breath
in case she kissed
me again

I hesitated
and then moved forward
and kissed her cheek
then moved away

she smiled and just
as she was about
to kiss me once more

a voice said
whit ur ye daein'?
sharply through the door.
nathansolmeo Apr 2018
Isang karangalan ang pagiging *** laude para sa isang mag aaral. Karangalan na siyang hinahangad ng karamihan ngunit iilan lamang ang nagkakamit. Isa sa mga nagkamit nito ay si Hannah Isabelle D. Mendez. Ngunit sino nga ba si Hannah?Isang mag-aaral mula sa URSC na kumukuha ng kursong BSIT. Gusto mo bang mas kilalanin pa natin siya? Halina’t samahan mo ko.
Kanyang pinanggalingan...
Si Hannah ay ipinanganak noong Agosto 21, 1997. Bunsong anak sa dalawang magkakapatid nina Cristeo at Girlie Mendez. Simple lang ang naging buhay ni Hannah. Lumaking mabait, masipag at may takot sa Diyos kahit na mula siya sa isang 'broken family'. Naghiwalay ang kanyang mga magulang nang siya ay nasa ikatlong baitang. Masasabing hindi madali ito para sa kanya dahil nais niya ay buo at masayang pamilya ang makakasama niya ngunit sa pagsisikap at pagtitiyaga ng kanyang ina, naging matatag at matapang si Hannah.
Kanyang hilig…
Si Hannah ay mahilig magsulat, manuod ng mga pelikula at magbasa lalo na ang mga libro na akda ni Colleen Hoover. Ang pagbabasa ang naging pampalipas oras niya at nakakapagpasaya sa kanya. Maraming bagay ang kanyang natutunan bunga ng kanyang pagbabasa at isa ito sa naging dahilan ng kanyang mga kaalaman na nagdala sa kanya ngayon bilang *** laude.
Simula ng hamon bilang mag-aaral…
Noong bata pa si hannah, wala siyang interes sa pag-aaral. Tulad ng ibang kabataan, kasiyahan lang ang kanyang hinangad pero dahil sa kanyang naging **** noong elementarya, naging bukas ang kanyang isipan sa pag-aaral.
Nakapagtapos siya ng elementarya ng may medalya bilang ikalawang karangalang banggit, sumali sa iba't ibang kompetisyon tulad ng Nutri Quiz Bee - 4th place, Hekasi Quiz Bee -2nd place (Elementary, District level) at sa Highschool 15th place sa Sports Page (RSPC) 1st place Drama fest (School level) journalist at naging presidente ng isang organisasyon noong hayskul.
Sa pagtuntong ng kolehiyo, naipagpatuloy niya ang kanyang pagiging aktibo. Nahalal siya bilang kalihim (S.Y.2015-2016), pangalawang pangulo (S.Y. 2016-2017) at 4th year representative (S.Y. 2017-2018) ng BITS Organization. Naging miyembro din siya ng KASALI Organization taong 2014-2018.
Nang tanungin siya kung paano niya nagagawang pagsabayin school activities at academics, simple lang ang naging sagot niya, “Basta masaya ka sa ginagawa mo, magagawa mo lahat at naniniwala kase ako sa ibinigay sayo yung bagay na yun dahil kaya mo".
*** laude…
Hindi naging madali kay Hannah ang maabot kung anong mayroon siya ngayon. Dumating siya sa puntong hindi na niya alam kung ano ang uunahin. Nariyan ang school works, church duties, family problems at dagdag pa ang mga nagsasabing hindi niya kaya ang kursong IT pero kalaunan napamahal na siya dito. Goal na ni Hannah maging *** laude pero hindi niya ineexpect na makukuha niya ang karangalang ito.
“Sobrang saya dahil ipinagpanata ko ito sabi ko kung para po sa’ken ito, Kayo (Ama) na po ang bahala and then nung nalaman ko na isa ako sa *** laude, hindi ko alam gusto kong sumigaw sa galak, sobrang nakaka—overwhelm.”, wika niya.
Tanging inspirasyon niya ang kanyang pamilya para makapagtapos at maabot ang lahat ng kanyang pangarap.
"When the opportunity knocks on your door, always be willing to give it a chance, 'yan lagi nasa isip ko para wala akong pagsisisihan at always give your best shot sa lahat ng ginagawa mo", wika niya ng may halong ngiti sa kanyang labi.
Tunay ngang nakakagalak ang kanyang pagsusumikap upang makamit ang kanyang minimithi. Mula sa buong pamilya ng URSC, proud kami sa iyong pagdadala ng karangalan!
It was a dark night in November
A baby wailed as it was delivered
The mother gasped and breathed no more
Began the tale of sorrow for
And every night was darkened pain as
Hannah would have to be refrained
Caught up in her guilt
She's thinking about cutting again

But comes a rattle upon the pane
And in flies the spirit's wind
"Who dares cross this portal door
Come out I do implore"

And Hannah stepped back in fright
For it must be an attack tonight
But the spectral image of a shady form
Left poor Hannah unadorned
"Speak most devious one
Tell me where it is your coming from"

The image coalesced into physical form
That on the outside looked so forlorn
It parted what looked like lips
And uttered the word,"Chi"

Hannah was quick to know
Everyone has a chi that flows
But still Hannah was confused
And the question now arose
"Of what Chi do you speak
And tell me how it works ?"

But the only response was a hollow whisper  "Chi" , was all it said

So Hannah was quick to respond
Ran to the refrigerator and opened the door
She grabbed a can and quickly returned
To the entrance unconcerned
With a can of five hour Super Chi

She popped the top and poured it down
Into the spatial beast
It shook at first then burpped at last
Wiped it's mouth and passed some gas
Then it said , "Chi that was great !"
Halloween  treat
Terry Collett Jul 2016
Whit dae ye want?
Mrs Scot said
as she opened the door
of her ground floor flat
across the Square

is Hannah in please?
I said

diz she ken
ye ur comin?
she said

I looked at her nonplussed
hoping Hannah
would come
and rescue me
from her Scottish mother

I said I'd meet
her here
I said

did ye noo?
she said
she looked behind her
and bellowed
th' loon is haur

I looked behind me
into the Square
then back at Hannah's
mother standing
gazing at me
with her dark eyes

Hannah came along
the passage
to the front door

o Benny
she said
I was in the bog
but I am ready now

ready fur wit?
her mother said

I'm going out
with Benny
she said

whaur ur ye gonnae?
her mother said

see the tennis
on the South Bank
and have a tea
or lemonade
Hannah said

wi' whose bunsens?
her mother said
staring at me
like a hawk

I said

Hannah said softly

I have money
I said
rattling the pocket
of my blue jeans

dornt be late
her mother said
I'll hae tatties
an' neebs at 5pm

we won't be late
Hannah said
I nodded an affirmation

better nae
ur I'll tan yer backside
her mother said grimly

Hannah nodded
and we left
and into the Square
and we knew her mother
was watching us
darkly there.
Terry Collett Feb 2016
Hannah said to meet her
at her flat
so I went across the Square
to where her flat was
and knocked at the door

Mrs Scot stood there

Hannah is it?
I nodded

Hannah's it at th' shaps
she said

o right can I come in
and wait?
I said

she stared at me
for a few seconds
as if I'd made
an indecent proposal

ah guess ye can
she said

and she stood back
to let me pass

I went to the passageway
and it smelt of yesterdays
dinner and boiling washing  

sit doon in th' livin' room
she said

I sat down
looking around the room
and she went off to the kitchen
the radio was on low
playing Victor Sylvester music

there were black and white photos
on the sideboard
and a big photo on the wall
of a wedding  

then the front door opened
and Hannah came in

I'm back
got your shopping
and she walked past
the living room door
o you're here already Benny
she said to me
good just putting this lot away
and we can be off

aff whaur?
her mother said

Benny's showing me
his new school
Hannah said

what's sae special abit 'at?
she said
coming out of the kitchen
like a warrior for battle

his new school in September
I want to see it
Hannah said

her mother pulled a face
and stared at me
is it a wee jimmies skale?

yes Mum a boy's school
Hannah said

I felt out of place
and stared at the wallpaper

right we are off now Mum
see you later  
Hannah said
and we went out the door
and into the Square

don't mind her
Hannah said
she's always that way

and I mused
good start to a new day

so we walked off
to where my new school was
about a good mile away
glad to be on our way.
Terry Collett Aug 2015
I knocked at Hannah's door
her mother opened it
and I asked if Hannah was in
she looked at me as if

I'd suggested something impolite
Hannah th' boy's haur
she bellowed over her shoulder
I took in her fiery eyes and turbaned head

her dark hair tucked away beneath
Hannah came to the door
where shall we go
she asked

so I can tell Maw?
What about Bermondsey docks
I can show you my school
then see Tower Bridge?

We're gonnae see Tower Brig
Hannah said to her mother
awe rite be cannie
her mother replied

so we walked off from her flat
and got a bus to Bermondsey
(my mother had given me coins
she was a kind soul)

sitting together in the front
watching the scenes go by
nothing spectacular
just London sights

and people passing
and vehicles going by
we held hands
moving to the motion

of the bus
her hand was warm
our fingers entwined
once we arrived

I showed her my school
(she went to a girls' school
nearer to home
her mother insisting no boys)

it looks a bit Dickensian
Hannah said
it is and even the teachers
are old as grime

she laughed and we walked on
to see Tower Bridge
and walked across to the other side
then had pop drinks in a small cafe

and shared a slice of cake
and sat and talked
I don't think your mother likes me
I said

o she doesn't like males full stop
not just you Benedict
men ur blecht
she tells me and my dad

what's that mean?
I asked her
means men are a blight
like a disease

she laughed
and sipped her tea
I sipped mine
smiling away

hoping that she
(like her mother
Mrs Scot)
never included me.
Terry Collett Aug 2017
Whaur ur ye gonnae?
Mrs Scot said.

Going out
with Benny
Hannah said.

Whaur abit?
her mother asked.

Maybe swimming
in Bedlam Park
Hannah replied.

Ye only went
lest week
her mother said moodily.

Hannah went
into her bedroom
to find her
swimming costume
her mother
followed her.

Ah guess ye want
some bunsens?
the mother asked.

Just a few pence
for the locker key
Hannah said.

Her mother went out
and Hannah
found her costume
and a towel
and waited.

There was a knock
at the front door
and Mrs Scot answered it.

Benny stood there
she stared at him.

Ye hud best come in
Ah suppose
she said to him.

He entered
and walked down
the passageway
Mrs Scot following
behind muttering.

Hannah met him
by her door
got your swimming stuff?
she said.

Yes and money
he said.

Mrs Scot
got her black purse
and gave Hannah
a few coins
and stared at them both.

Nae funay business
she said.

Of course not
Hannah replied.

They went
to the front door
and went out.

The mother
watched them
cross the Square
and out of sight
down the *****.

What did she mean
no funny business?
Benny said.

Just Mum being
her usual charming self
Hannah said.

Benny let the words
disappear from his
12 year old head.
Terry Collett Oct 2015
Hannah and Benny
went swimming
at the Bedlam Park
swimming pool

water cold
clear blue
(unless someone ******
an orangey yellow
tang or tone)

they sat on the side
of the pool
after a while
in the water

gets cold
after a while
Benny said
looking at Hannah
in her bathing costume
of dark pink

does indeed
she said

your mother
(Mrs Scot)
didn't seem keen
you going swimming
with me
Benny said  

Hannah smiled
she said
wa gang swimmin'
wi' heem?
to me as we left
Hannah said

what did you say?
Benny said

coz ah loch heem
I told her

Benny smiled
don't know what
it means but it
sounds good
what did she say?

nae accoontin
fur taste
Hannah replied

good God
why doesn't she
like me?
Benny said

you're English
and a male
Hannah said
that's about it

what about your Dad
he's both?
Benny said

there you are
Hannah said
that's about it
anyway enough of her
let's get dried
and go get a drink
in the cafe
and you can tell me
about the Rob Roy book
you've bought
she said

o right
he said

and they walked back
to the changing rooms
and he got out
of his wet trunks and dried

and thought about
the slightly bulging chest
that he noticed
Hannah had

and wondered if
she was unwell
or was it just because
she was a biggish girl.
Alanna High Dec 2014
Her name is Hannah, like in the Bible.
Hannah, who could not find her place
Because her husband
Could not love her more
Than his *other
Who bore him strong sons and daughters,
While Hannah only made him laugh.

Her name is Hannah, like in the Bible.
Hannah, who, heartbroken for a man she loved
The man she married,
Went to the temple to pray so fervently
The priest thought she was intoxicated
And attempted to make her leave.
When all she wanted was to break her body to give her husband a son.

Hannah, who gave her only son,
Back to God, because she was faithful
Always faithful
And as her name means, full of grace.
The bible is full of women
Who carry the legends of men on their back and at their *******
Mothers and wives who play supporting roles to heroes.

My name is Hannah, like in the Bible.
I have played second fiddle to other women
For the hearts of men who did not deserve me.
I have prayed fervently for a family that I have lost
My name means full of grace, but I am empty
And god merely laughs when you talk about me in his bible.
Emily Rene Oct 2013
The flyest chick that I will ever know,
she be cooler than winter, cooler than snow.
Her name is Hannah, but thats doesn't matter,
she's even better than the ******* Mad Hatter.

'Imperfection is Beauty,' is her favorite motto.
What the hell in the world rhymes with motto...
I'm definitely not perfect when it comes to poetry,
But I'm sure my Hannah-Kins still loves me.

I may have met her recently in this school year,
but she's an amazing & rad girl, I'd share my beer.
I just wanted my best friend Hannah to know,
I love her & I'll never let her go...
(Not in a creepy stalker kinda way... eh. Maybe)
Lily Oct 2016
I haven't cried in a while
Why did I see your face again
Your beautiful smile
And cheerful attitude
Despite what your going through
How can you do it Hannah?
You inspire me
You were so strong,resilient, beautiful
I never knew you more
You don't even know my name
Though I'm sure of one thing
God loves you more than all of the living
This is for Hannah. It's been more than a year since your passing. You may not know me but I am one of those people who silently prayed that you'd overcome the sickness but sadly, maybe God don't want you to. Cause he wants you to be with him, cause you're a beautiful human, way more beautiful than all of use here. You're too precious to ignore so God himself made a way, and now you're with him eternally. Rest in peace, Hannah ❤️
Terry Collett Aug 2016
Sit doon,
Mrs Scot said.

I looked around
the sitting room.

In th' armchair,
she added pointing
to an old armchair.

Will Hannah be long?
I said.

Hoo dae Ah ken,
she said,
walking off
into the passage,
smoke from
her cigarette
following after her.

I sat down
and looked around
the room.

she bellowed
from the kitchen.

Won't be long,
Hannah replied
from the bog.

I hoped Mrs Scot
would not return
to speak to me
without an interpreter.

Dornt keep heem
tay lang,
Mrs Scot said firmly.

I rubbed my crucifix
with my thumb
in my pocket.

The bog door unlocked
and Hannah came into
the sitting room:
sorry about that,
she said,
call of nature,
or as Mum says
caa ay nature.

She smiled;
I smiled weakly.

So where we going?
Hannah said.

There's a film
we can see,
I said,
if you've money,
or we can go swimming
in the swimming baths.

I've no money,
but swimming seems
a good idea;
I'll just get my stuff
and ask Mum
for a few pence.

So off she went;
I sat listening,
fingers held
in each other  
forming a church
kind of thing.

ye aye want bunsens,
her mother said.

Just a few pence
for the locker,
Hannah said.

Puckle bon
mah god,
her mother said.

I sat staring
at the wall
where a picture of man
in a kilt stared
back at me.

The resemblance
to Hannah's mother
and the man
was plain to see.
Terry Collett May 2017
The sky looked overcast
dark clouds moved
above me.

I knocked
on the door
to Hannah's
parents' flat.

Mrs Scot opened it up
and eyed me
whit dae ye want?
she said.

Is Hannah home?
I said.

Nae she's it
Mrs Scot replied
in her Scottish dialect.

When will
she be back?
I said.

When she's dain
wi' messages
she said.

Can I come in
and wait?
I said.

If ye main
she said gruffly
and stood back
to let me pass by
and into
the sitting room.

Sit thaur
an dornt tooch
she said
through thin lips
and walked off.

I sat in one
of the armchairs
to wait.

There was a photograph
on the mantelshelf
of a man in a kilt
and hat
and stern gaze.

I wondered
if he was Mrs Scot's father
he looked like her
without the beard.

After  five minutes
Hannah returned
with the shopping
and walked past the door
and smiled.

Won't be long
she said.

I could hear
Mrs Scot moan
and Hannah reply
but couldn't grasp
what they said.

Hannah came
and after a few words
with her mother
we left the flat
with her mother's words
echoing after us
like a ******'s cuss.
Terry Collett Mar 2016
Benny walked
to Hannah's flat
and her mother
answered the door

(her mother was a Scot)
and stared at him
och it's ye
she said

best come in
the wee boy's haur
Benny followed her

along the passage
and she settled him
in the lounge
giving him her look

(which would have
brought fear
to a brave grenadier)
Hannah came

into the lounge
got behind
she said
all like a cat's tail

where we going?
Benny suggested
a trip to Jail Park
to ride the swings

and slide
want to go to
an art gallery
she said

see some art not
ride swings or slide
Benny nodded his head
and said
ok and talked
of where his old man
used to take him

in the West End
to see art
just going
to tell Mum

she said
and walked
to the kitchen
where her mother

was doing washing
in the copper
gang whaur?
her mother said

I’ve nae bunsens
just bus fare
Hannah said
the art gallery's free

her mother opened
her purse
(moths flew out
Hannah later said)

and placed a few coins
in Hannah's palm
aam nae payin'
fur heem

she said
hard faced
Hannah said
that's fine

and off they went
out of the flat
down the *****
to get a bus

to Trafalgar Square
and look at
the art in  
a gallery there
Terry Collett Sep 2016
I knock
on Hannah's
parent's door,
rain spitting down,
the morning air fresh
and lung biting.

Mrs Scot opens
the door:
O it's ye,
she says,
eyebrows rising,
eyes peering at me

I've come
to see Hannah,
I say.

Ah didne hink
ye came tae
see me,
she says,
moving back
to allow me
to pass by.

I pass her by
like a mouse
passing a cat,
my eyes sidewards
gazing at her,
and moving past
as quick
as I can.

She closes
the door
and calls:
th' boy's haur,
gie it ay scratcher.

She indicates I go
into the lounge,
I do and sit down.

She bellows.

She goes off
to the kitchen,
and I look around
the room.

Just coming,
won't be long,
Hannah says
from her bedroom.

Her mother says
and then all is quiet,
except for the ticking
of a clock.

The curtains
are drawn back
allowing light
to enter the room
it has wiped its
feet first
Dylan Thomas
to mind).

The picture
of a kilted man
stares at me.

He has big eyebrows
like dark caterpillars.

On the mantelshelf
is a photograph
of Hannah
and her parents
and her brother
who is away.

The bedroom doors opens
and Hannah appears.

she says,
I overslept,
just going
for a wash,
and she is gone.

Dornt be lang,
her mother says.

Be quick
as Ah can,
Hannah calls back.

Water runs,
splash, splash.

She's a lazy huir,
her mother says,
coming into
the lounge,
holding a cup
and saucer of tea
for me,
puts it down,
the thinnest
lip smile,
then goes again.

as I look through
the window,
is heavy rain.
Geno Cattouse Mar 2014
My how my muse desires you.Deeper you are is it your insanity.
Is it mine. Intoxicating. Born
Ouside dimensions you emit a constant hum or is it me the antenna born to your freakuency.

Every answer is a question. My inquisition.
Raw as a flicking lash..subtle as a midnight whisp.
Irish eyes awash with irony. You swiftly pull my pathos a querry in constant posture.

You are a devine girl/woman
Neither young nor old ...a vessel,a wonderous curiosity. Hannah you are what ?.
An ovation of thunder?
A Dickensonian verse ?
An ancient curse ?
A raven ?
Bitter...Sweet enigma.

A sand siren self aware
You have my full attention every sultry deed.
God I feel the tide draw ill.
Against my will.
The mirage persists even to the touch.jagged rocks a starboard aching need a larboard. Simply Hannah.
But sad to say, I have seen you before sitting on beached and rotting vessel ashore arms oustretched your sisters have sung that
Sweet beguiling song to me before.I have surrenderd and run my boat ashore
At times turned the rudder and put my back to the breezes
Your song.
Your smile.a reincarnation
An ill wind sweet stench of forbidden. Solitary lilac standing tall beneath a waning moon..sweet
A portrait.
Cloaked in plain sight you are open as the sphinx. Too young to be this ancient too wise to be this.Hannah.

Brash as brass knuckles backhanded on bruised cheek. Soft as overspun cotton candy.
Add water and stir girl
All around the world girl
Proof positive that god has a wicked
Sense of humour.
kaylan joseph Nov 2014
somehow her hair halts me at every sentance
a dark brown finsh over a cute slinder face
her personalty speaks rhthmic poetry
like a connection over mortal things
and the only thing she said was hi
normaly i would forget a greeting
but it seems so inviting  if the whole world went left it seemed like the right thing
so like lightning i respond hi
tripped over my words
and got lost in her eyes
a pale blue that could unviel any disguise
she said my name is hannah
and so nearly 2 hearts almost coldide
Dream Fisher Oct 2019
Hannah doesn't dream,
That's what I've heard at least
She lies in a small cold bed
Where sugar plums aren't dancing,
Closing her eyes behind her head
She sleeps until the morning fills
The room with anything but black
Standing up, another day, just trapped.

Hannah doesn't dream,
Not a sheep, a blink, or wink.
But last night she made a song
To the drips of the bathroom sink.
She told me of a real place,
Unlike the dancing going through my skull
It sounds like home, only more magical.

Hannah doesn't dream,
She sees the beauty in the awake,
The sky, the sun, the leaves,
The whisper as the wind cuts through the trees.
Hannah doesn't dream,
She doesn't need to it seems
It means graceful and calm,
like a dancers swift precise movements.
She stays firmly planted in the pre-determined lines.
She is obedient and kind,
sweet and mellow.
She is near perfect,
but she isn’t me.
I am clumsy and untamed,
like a burst of lightening detained in society’s shackles.
I am a mess of color on the paper.
I am your dream or your nightmare.
Sweet but free,
a soul carried in by the wind.
I am galaxies away from perfect
but I am me.
What my name means to me.
Duane Kline Feb 2014
She's on the bench now,
Our gift to rec soccer...

"Two touches and a pass, Hannah."

I remember when rolling on the floor,
Tickle-induced laughter peeling
Was our Sunday joy.

"Keep your head up--Look! Hannah!"

Even in her shady sideline spot
She has more grace than the others.

"Hannah, you have to work on speed!"

Now a long-legged beauty
Running in the sun.

"Shoot. Shoot! Hannah! Shoot the ball!"

Unaware of her dad


As if these days were all for me.

— The End —