I

The Nutcrackers sate by a plate on the table,
  The Sugar-tongs sate by a plate at his side;
And the Nutcrackers said, 'Don't you wish we were able
  'Along the blue hills and green meadows to ride?
'Must we drag on this stupid existence for ever,
  'So idle so weary, so full of remorse,--
'While every one else takes his pleasure, and never
  'Seems happy unless he is riding a horse?

II

'Don't you think we could ride without being instructed?
  'Without any saddle, or bridle, or spur?
'Our legs are so long, and so aptly constructed,
  'I'm sure that an accident could not occur.
'Let us all of a sudden hop down from the table,
  'And hustle downstairs, and each jump on a horse!
'Shall we try? Shall we go! Do you think we are able?'
  The Sugar-tongs answered distinctly,'Of course!'

III

So down the long staircase they hopped in a minute,
  The Sugar-tongs snapped, and the Crackers said 'crack!'
The stable was open, the horses were in it;
  Each took out a pony, and jumped on his back.
The Cat in a fright scrambled out of the doorway,
  The Mice tumbled out of a bundle of hay,
The brown and white Rats, and the black ones from Norway,
  Screamed out, 'They are taking the horses away!'

IV

The whole of the household was filled with amazement,
  The Cups and the Saucers danced madly about,
The Plates and the Dishes looked out of the casement,
  The Saltcellar stood on his head with a shout,
The Spoons with a clatter looked out of the lattice,
  The Mustard-*** climbed up the Gooseberry Pies,
The Soup-ladle peeped through a heap of Veal Patties,
  And squeaked with a ladle-like scream of surprise.

V

The Frying-pan said, 'It's an awful delusion!'
  The Tea-kettle hissed and grew black in the face;
And they all rushed downstairs in the wildest confusion,
  To see the great Nutcracker-Sugar-tong race.
And out of the stable, with screamings and laughter,
  (Their ponies were cream-coloured, speckled with brown,)
The Nutcrackers first, and the Sugar-tongs after,
  Rode all round the yard, and then all round the town.

VI

They rode through the street, and they rode by the station,
  They galloped away to the beautiful shore;
In silence they rode, and 'made no observation',
  Save this: 'We will never go back any more!'
And still you might hear, till they rode out of hearing,
  The Sugar-tongs snap, and the Crackers say 'crack!'
Till far in the distance their forms disappearing,
  They faded away.--And they never came back!

puncturing a wound
increasing infection
adrenaline rushing through
this mind of impatience
abusing a burn
increasing sensation of
fiery pain rushing through
this infamous obligation

I spent one of my days, somewhere at the end of October, facing all my fears
I let them through my mind and everyone got infected by bad vibes from me
That day I woke up to some distant rambling of my parents fighting
I found myself falling back into sleeping sweet embrace and awake at 9:30, finding dad sleeping on the stairs.
The day before, mum put oil on my hair and I complained about the smell that doesn't fade away after washing it  four times.

I was thinking of buying books and listening to music but can't because mum is beside me
And I don't like doing anything near her.
I asked her if I could change my glasses frame if I get straight A's for finals
She asked me to find a hammer to nail my bamboo box together
I wanted to show her a picture I took at school with another seven people of which I don't even know three of them
but end up telling myself not to because I don't want her to critize my funny body posture.

My sisters came home and suddenly all in a rush rummaging through some old things behind my closet.
They found a picture of me when I was six and another one when I was eleven taking a picture with my favourite teacher.
I told mum to get rid of my kindergarten ones but she kept them
Next thing I knew, I lost the one when I was eleven.

I saw the printer wire and my sister insisted that we should put it up so mum did and I fixed it. I fixed the printer and clear the carriage jams and all while putting up with all of the screamings going on between both my parents and both my sisters.
I blasted ******* bands in my ears and running loud thoughts in my head.

That day I cut my nails only on my left hand
Later, one my right hand finger is stained from printer ink.

Evening came and dusk came, night came. Midnight came.
I talked to the only person I'm sure I love and reachable. Autumn.
She's 17 and leaving school next year also very worried about her big exam on Nov 3.
She told how her emotional day went that day from how her classmate cried and her teacher cried too so that night
she got into the shower and cried and I said that it is okay
and we talked about biology and saliva and ulcers.
I listened to Good Riddance that night for how it constantly reminds me of people I love: Autumn and Luke and people I loved: Nightingale.

One of my friend also had the same vibe saying she is afraid of tomorrow, afraid of turning fifteen next year just like me.
We laughed about our first day going to school few years back then.
I brought up all those people I used to know and asking myself where did they go?
Or was I'm the one who disappeared?
Night came as I sit on a dying school chair listening to the ******* loud TV downstairs
I made coffee and listen to those voices.
Dad switched off the TV I was left with a strangling silent even with music on full volume.

Unconsciously, I grasped the coffee mug in front of me
clinging to its blistering warmth and started to cry for no reason just draining out the weight of life of today.
I shut my eyes with intent to barricade those tears from falling
but
it just pools and pour out and didn't cease and I just let them be until I hear someone going upstairs.
Oh how embarassing to see me in this state wiping off tears on the sleeves of my shirt where my heart should have been

Here I am in this endless mirage with a mug of coffee listening to the low hum of voices so familiar and imagery of many people that I'd like to take their pain away
just to let them breathe for a while.
I sipped the bitter coffee to the last drip
I tried not to think of those times when I haven't listen to this one song quite awhile
and
just before I press play it crossed my mind what if this song changed
It was kind of disappointing that it didn't but the feelings I had for this song did change
I took a few glance at my bookshelf and lost in this flashback when I used to measure my height on it
and
adding another 28 cm just to see how tall Luke was and it turns out he was taller than my bookshelf
so before I went to sleep on the same night, I told myself that I need to be at least 175 cm.

I lean against my chair trying hard to recall when did those things happened?
It can't be that long ago but
the image is so unreachable in my head.
Today, it's emotional day Autumn said it's an emotional day and
I said strikethrough 'an'
Today, life seemed as inevitable as death is
I'm here with no particular purpose of living set in my mind except surviving against a few little distraction
and
let me tell you this

*I like it.

I thirst.

 

You rip through here

a hurricane

biting through civilians and officials alike

until their bloodshed stains the streets

and the streams tick off the tally of your victims

your only aim to crush and maim

regardless of the death toll

or the reason

or the phasing of the moon

And then come crashing down again

 

while we are left, shaking our heads,

to sweep your secrets

into crematoria and coffins

Then dust off our hands

to wipe away your tears

 

and scrub away the fever

That leaves a ring of soapy sickness

in your bathwater

And then hold you,

bitter infant,

until the tide falls away

 

The constants, the healers,

What some call the mothers

though you are not our blood children

 

We are the ones that soothe your cuts and burns

Listen to your side of the story

And settle the fights of dollar bills

and ancestors

that you scorn without abandon

Hear you simper for a lullaby

As we rock you back to sleep

 

But the sighs don’t escape

until after we’ve checked under the bed for monsters

for the hundredth

or the thousandth

or the millionth time this week;

we can’t let you catch on

that the only real beasts lie within ourselves.

 

We would give you the moon

Had you not tamed it

And the deserts for your sandbox

But no matter what we give

You want it all you want it all

And we want nothing

NOTHING

in return

Just a single peaceful night,

vengeful child,

tea stirred with vanilla and sleep

but your screamings pierce our dreams

and nightmares

 

We are the worrywarts

The unsure

The cautious and the skeptics

Who don’t believe in jumping on the bed

Or in other such adventures

 

We are wrinkled brows and unpressed collars

The “it’s for your own good”s and the seamstresses

That stitch your heart back together

Before it’s broken one time too many

 

And you end up like us.

 

We are the aftermath, the backstory,

the prayers and dictionaries

that make it out of life alive

The Barmecidal harmony, the snatches of hymns

 

We are the scraps of coffee-tainted paper

that you slap against the telephone poles

As if the taste of scathing news-ink

is a bandage for the hurting

And we fold debris into our kerchiefs

saving them as souvenirs

 

And you call us close-minded

You call us cowards

As you snap your jaws and roar

down a vast and lonesome prairie

like the wind

 

Fast to laugh

and quick to run away

 

As we wander the streets lonely,

the gaslamps shattered on the cobblestones,

and stoop to collect the pieces

of the life you left behind.

 

Forgive them, Father,

for they know not what they do.

I kept telling myself I wasn’t crazy
That I would stick it high, and maybe
Pull myself through this barbed wire
With a little help that’ll take me higher

But it seems these pills aren’t working
Still, in fact their just distorting
All my dreams and aspirations
Please shut down my imagination

Cause these lies are plain and tasteless
I’m not sure how much longer I'll take this
Naivety dressed its best
As my friends blend with the rest

I hope my heart knows this last truth
And that I won’t be a wasted youth
I may be young and reckless
But I sure as hell will never be backless

I stormed the mountain peaks so high
And I’ll push on through til the day I die
With my dignity understood by all
As for now I'll try to walk more tall

The more I say it isn’t true
The more I realize what I feel for you
You wish it wouldn’t, but it does
There are the few who see past the flaws

I keep on trying to look forward
Past these silent screamings murmured
Through the shattered glass and fears
I’ll go beyond wisdom of my years

On the roads of pain we met
By a date our scars have set
By an explosion of emotions I let.
Gently, you told me,
Without looking into my eyes,
"Lean on my cries and just forget.
Let out cries collide,
Never let your tears hide,
So that the sadness fade,
And nothing but banishment get"

We tore part of our souls,
To erase the memories of screaming owls.
Those,which kept reminding us of darkness,
And death's calls.
We tore them, to regive back the colours,
To our pale falls.

We burned our past to the ground
Ripped the misery out of our bodies,
Without moaning,
Or making a sound.

You composed out of my screamings,
Relaxing symphonies,
Out of my cries relieving chords,
You turned my blackness into sung notes,
You sing, to heal the broken body,
Of its everlasting loneliness.

Like a falling statue,
Because of you, my blue turned into ashes
But you, gave it all back to me,
When your heart decided to belong,
To someone else's.

Whispers in the dark,
     memories of passion lost.
Regrets born of the
    would of
        could of
           should of...
Best friend lost
     Unrequited conversations
          a phone - silent and still.
The bond
    a connection
          kismet....
Nothing more than ruin.
A realization
     The whispers in the dark
          are the screamings of my *heart

walk silent

far away not tomorrow
survive thirsty
cactus sought in the deserts

need to whistle
for desolate

start moving
with the train screamings
like a wake-up alarm

27 May 2021
Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                    B­ismarck and Hood

Pocket knives, love letters, rosaries, wrenches
Pictures of ski trips, girlfriends, wives, and mums
Notebooks, youthful attempts at poetry
Toothbrushes, naughty pictures, candy from home

Lockers of toilet paper and light bulbs
Study guide outlines for promotion exams
Spit-shined shoes, the smoking lantern is out
Now battle lanterns and battle stations

Death-screamings through the ventilator exhaust
From thousands of teenaged boys forever lost

What do you ponder, O moon?
Do you wonder if I too have my dark side...!
What do you smell, O moon?
Do you catch the fragrance of death that lingers my side every moment...!
What do you hear, O moon?
Do you hear the agony and screamings of an invisible broken heart...!
What do you feel, O moon?
Do you ever touch my bed at night hoping to lessen my loneliness?
O ,dear moon, you may be seven seas apart,
But you and I are one in essence and loneliness...
For every second of our lives we live to die and die to live!
              ~V.Venandi

Getting to heaven,
seems like an impossible level.
Though, the forgiven
somehow gets a glimpse of the marvel.
People acknowledge facts,
but they worship cheques;
for that is their way
of filling up the cracks.
All of these bitter explanation
better have a logical debate.
Hell, even a simple mark of exclamation
can have a ****** rebate.
Eat the bars
of hell,
while you hear screamings in
your cell.