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When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
  Through the long, long wintry nights;--
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;--
  When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore:--

Then, through the vast and gloomy dark,
There moves what seems a fiery spark,
  A lonely spark with silvery rays
  Piercing the coal-black night,--
  A Meteor strange and bright:--
Hither and thither the vision strays,
  A single lurid light.

Slowly it wanders,--pauses,--creeeps,--
Anon it sparkles,--flashes and leaps;
And ever as onward it gleaming goes
A light on the ****-tree stems it throws.
And those who watch at that midnight hour
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along,--
  'The ****!--the ****!
  'The wandering **** through the forest goes!
  'The ****! the ****!
  'The **** with a luminous Nose!'

  Long years ago
  The **** was happy and gay,
Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
  Who came to those shores one day,
For the Jumblies came in a sieve, they did,--
Landing at eve near the Zemmery Fidd
  Where the Oblong Oysters grow,
  And the rocks are smooth and gray.
And all the woods and the valleys rang
With the Chorus they daily and nightly sang,--
    'Far and few, far and few,
    Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
    Their heads are green, and their hands are blue
    And they went to sea in a sieve.'

Happily, happily passed those days!
  While the cheerful Jumblies staid;
  They danced in circlets all night long,
  To the plaintive pipe of the lively ****,
  In moonlight, shine, or shade.
For day and night he was always there
By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
With her sky-blue hands, and her sea-green hair.
Till the morning came of that hateful day
When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away,
And the **** was left on the cruel shore
Gazing--gazing for evermore,--
Ever keeping his weary eyes on
That pea-green sail on the far horizon,--
Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
As he sate all day on the grassy hill,--
    'Far and few, far and few,
    Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
    Their heads are green, and their hands are blue
    And they went to sea in a sieve.'

But when the sun was low in the West,
  The **** arose and said;--
--'What little sense I once possessed
  'Has quite gone out of my head!'--
And since that day he wanders still
By lake or forest, marsh and hill,
Singing--'O somewhere, in valley or plain
'Might I find my Jumbly Girl again!
'For ever I'll seek by lake and shore
'Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!'

  Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
  Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks,
  And because by night he could not see,
  He gathered the bark of the Twangum Tree
    On the flowery plain that grows.
    And he wove him a wondrous Nose,--
  A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
  --In a hollow rounded space it ended
  With a luminous Lamp within suspended,
    All fenced about
    With a bandage stout
    To prevent the wind from blowing it out;--
  And with holes all round to send the light,
  In gleaming rays on the dismal night.

And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the ****;
And above the wall of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the sqeak of his plaintive pipe
While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again;
Lonely and wild--all night he goes,--
The **** with a luminous Nose!
And all who watch at the midnight hour,
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright,
Moving along through the dreary night,--
  'This is the hour when forth he goes,
  'The **** with a luminous Nose!
  'Yonder--over the plain he goes,
    'He goes!
    'He goes;
  'The **** with a luminous Nose!'
lana Feb 2021
she leans into the mic, her voice is raspy and familiar. i know why she doesn't remember my name and my clothes and my story. i know why she chooses to forget.
i can't seem to make out the words she's saying. i want to sit in a corner and hide, but i need to do this right now. i watch her lips as sound flows out like pudding, drops and glops of the stuff making a mess everywhere. i open my mouth to speak too. i sound just like her: incoherent and jumbly.
i watch in horror and disbelief as i morph into her. my nails and lungs turn black, the pins fall out of my hair. i catch a glimpse of my reflection. i look the same as i always have. nothing has changed.
you don't know me anymore, neither do i.
Oh I really am ******* and more than that I'm sick
of picking up the pieces of a broken promise made
and trying to stick them back together
as if the plan could not be laid to rest and
in time would rise to heal the rift.

**** it
life's a gift and you don't want to take a part in it?
**** for brains is all I can say and nothing other comes to mind.

Again in fractals do I find the patterns of this jumbly thing
this what brings me to despair and will
eventually
find me jumping from the landing light to light upon the banister
with a rope to twist my neck and
if life is the gift
who will lift me free from this darkness?

Liberty?
ha
just another *** to **** in
a jail for boys to get it on and kiss in

And again
I'm going fishin'
ask Tom Sawyer
he'll know where.

— The End —