(1)
ugly grey banister
language stung
all the
subtle Belgian
bursts of
grainy blue Gina's
Bengali grain
triangles
(2)
a high-
strung bus-
y arbiter is
bustling a-
round in
search of in-
tegral gris-
ly Istanbul
bytes and
guilt-free wry
rung climb-
ers of the
Liberty Tree
(3)
singularly rusty
syringes some-
how re-
main de-
void of dust
the rooms grow smaller
quieter
after every departure
clicks the latch
they're built to keep
weather out
not harbor grudges
that echoes leave behind
forks, vases, plates and pens
settle into their places,
as though, they're expected
the yellow walls
once held afternoon teas,
until the laughter
sealed the paint
and screened the light
the banister
smooths its touch
before any hand
remembers its feel
the curtains
lift their seams
peering underneath
themselves
the stairs
borrow sunlight
for the tread of feet
the kettle
answers itself
in a kerfuffle
chorus of steam
the floorboards
clear their throats
one board
too soon
the hallway
widens for every
shadow
still waiting
outside
every afternoon
rehearses mornings
one curtain call
at a time
the dust learns
the shape
of fingertips
the chairs
lean much closer in
to listen
the doormat
combs its
greeting nap
every echo
tries on
a different voice
as the house
leaves
the door
ajar
for no one
So, our house is supposedly haunted?
The rest of the crew laughed their petootsies off
Didn’t everyone watch Channel 5 News?
ghosts, monsters, ghouls, goblins and one witch resided here
She was the ringleader of the burglary ring
Sent them in and out of houses pilfering and looting
If anyone gives you trouble, use my cell number, she said
Homeowners always back down when faced with a flying witch
Their clubhouse was at 2300 Pennsylvania, and it was filling up
The gremlins had not paid rent for a year; they were getting tossed out
Two sheriff’s deputies were at the door now, demanding to see them
The witch stuck her head over the banister
Give the officers candy, she told the ghost who had answered the door
She wanted them to come back next month to kick out the gargoyles.
Tonight, her footsteps crack and moan —
She's useless when her tears frost over,
The gutter running without her, alone
There's another ghost inside porchlight silver,
A foot melting on the banister —
She's dark as the wind that picks her up,
This twisting whirl of white clumps
Against wind now seeming touchable —
Outside, the snow jumps
With the draft...and then the window's wail,
Being broken apart like snowflakes assails,
She touches the real parts in foggy glass —
The cold that blasts through a girl's face,
Years after, the woman outside this table —
So the terrace is her cup, white laughter, dark tastes.
Diode or anode
Are they enough to remove negative thinking?
Transistor or adviser
Which is best to help one off sinking?
Banister to guide
Yet the hyperactive will still jump it over
Canister to hide
Though expiratory date will not hangover
Resistor or an adjuster
The behavioural disorder are hardly bewitched in rehabilitation
Capacitor or curator
The world remains to all a pleasant habitation
I went out walking
In the afternoon
I looked to the sky
What would it be like
Climbing a ladder?
Up into the sky?
I pondered my thought
To climb the ladder
i saw the ladder
It had a banister
I could hold onto
When I climbed it
It gave me3 courage
To climb upward
One step at a time
I saw the dark sky
The stars were shining
I saw the dipper
the moon was huge
I saw planets small
I saw planets large
The clouds different shapes
A rainbow seen
Then my foot slipped
Falling so quickly down
Where would I end up?
Falling in darkness
I was frighted
Landing on the ground
From a dream I woke
Curvaceous banister was practically obscene
The king loved it, but not his persnickety queen
She ordered it taken to the burn pile
The carpenter swiftly lost his brilliant smile
King secretly gave the banister a total save
It is now proudly displayed in his private man cave
this is a form based on John Banister Tabb,(the Virginia born )poet's The Evolution
I have labelled this imagist form 'a tabb' in his honour.
EVOLUTION
by: John Banister Tabb (1845-1909)
Out of the dusk a shadow,
Then, a spark;
Out of the cloud a silence,
Then, a lark;
Out of the heart a rapture,
Then, a pain;
Out of the dead, cold ashes,
Life again.
& here is one of mine in the TABB style
Tabb-The Search
Out of the dark,a glimmer,
Then a light:
Out of the sky,the mornng star,
Then a new sight;
Out of the night,to-morrow,
Then a new dawn;
Out of the wind,a sound,
New born
Inspired by John 3
Two hats hanging on the banister
Stacked on top of each other
When the sun shines the shadow
Appears on the beige wall
The sun shows a shape
A face on the wall
Appears wearing a hat
A face on the wall
The eye m nose, and mouth
He is staring at me
The face is sideways
It is why one eye down
Part of his lip and hat
His shadow is sideways
That is how he appears
Every sunny day
JOHN BANISTER TABB 'Archery
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I went out one night;
folks say they don’t bite,
but grabbing the banister,
I slapped my hand upon one.
No, the experience was not fun
for the mantis nor me,
this painful whelp I cannot relieve!
My pet Gekko Little Elk,
in his tank on the shelf,
got his own terrible fright one night.
with a mantis he tangled,
and ended up mangled;
and his tail didn’t grow back right.
My cat jack chasing a mouse;
I’d prefer he’d chase grouse,
stuck his nose in hole in the ground.
Imagine my scowl,
when he let out a yowl,
mantis claws converted nose to ground-round.
The Yuletide Season
Seen through the window by the fireplace’s illuminating fuel
Is a family gathering celebrating the Yule;
A union of Noël greeters in wondrous delight
Expresses warmth, joy, and happiness within the house.
They wish each other a Merry Christmas with sincerity and cheer
And exchange cards and presents while snapping pictures.
In the corner, a fir tree stands with a star topper bright
Decorated with ornaments, tinsel strings, and twinkling lights.
Down the banister and around the room, garlands run,
And over the mantle, holly and a wreath are hung.
Then singing is heard accompanied by piano music playing,
Followed by the raising of glasses to toast the Yuletide season.
Outside in the cold covered with snow while walking alone,
Memories of home come to mind, and how the years have flown.
I feel quite certain
can
is to canister
as sin
is to sinister
Lust
is to luster
and teach
is to teacher
as preach
is to preacher
But not mini
is to minister
as not what sinister sermons
are to lusty sermonizers.
It also feels
like cause
for pause
that war
is to warrior
but we have no equivalent language
for peace
is to peacer.
We do have blessed
are the peace makers
but not peaceful players
Or cooperative
equivalent to peace
restoring justice workers.
Now I feel curious,
so probably no threat of furious
I can not put this can
back in my canister,
ban my empowered banister,
or limit my ignorant sins
to neglecting intuitive sinister.
Wreaths and stockings hung with care,
baughs of holly deck halls that were bare.
Tree lights twinkling, a top a star glares,
Trimmings decorate banister and stairs.
Homes inside and out have holiday flair.
Angels with gold horns ready to blare,
snowmen with black eyes, stand and stare.
Amid children sledding and double dog dares,
a snowball fight, "WAR" one declares!
Laughter and bells ring out holiday flair.
Some people wake up to a nightmare,
winter storms catches them unaware.
Snowflakes fell from the night air
dancing on the wind like Fred Astair.
Glimmers with magical holiday flair.
Santa's sleigh with reindeer in pairs,
Rudolph's nose shines brighter than altair.
Middle of town is like a sidewalk fair.
Dressed up and looking debonair.
Shimmering with holiday flair.
Tis the season that's extraodinaire,
time of year none can compare.
Taking all year to prepare
Cheer spreads across the globe like malware.
Joyful and triumphant holiday flair.
I'm woozy with the uncertainties of life.
I'm staggering back and forth,
slamming into one wall and then another.
I cling to a banister
wondering how it can be
that I'm even alive.
Bitter to be still living.
Grateful to have survived so long.
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