Their was a time l was mad as a hatter
Back then l was on the highest of heights
Now l am looking for new subject matter
Perhaps too high one is setting their sights
Though still l'd say anything but the latter
But seems their is more left turns than rights
As one again my life is now in a bit of a tatter
Endless days and even more so restless nights
As now their is much more on my platter
When still l am in search of fresh appetites
I would guess enough of the chit chatter
As you know reality it now bites...
There is love,
Synonymous to life.
reflections may tatter and erode upon mirrors
Seasons may break and pass,
Years may come and go.
However,
Upon life that love has not changed.
For its likeness maintained what the world breaks.
A child is only found in children,
or in one whom has been preserved by a love of this fashion
Conclusively,
my childish soul is to remain.
And only upon a grave will it lastly reside,
As assured by the immutable love i hold for you.
diddle-daddle idle chatter
many asked what was the matter?
he ran off to be a batter
running bases in pitter patter
bats he used would often shatter
titter tatter chitter chatter
time wasted said the now rich batter
he’s a big shot, said my cousin Datter
I say I don’t care
Running fingers through my hair
Stopping in the corner to stare
Ignoring any sign to beware
No country for old men
No state for young love beginning again
No postage stamp for me to send
Nothing special except hoping to mend
Bruised soul, broken heart
Preparing myself for a new place to depart
Living again somewhere far apart
From an existence far beyond hopes of a start
Sorry to say, my emotions I must obey
Invigorated by a sense that resounds betray
Yet I lift my chin and face the sunny day
Waiting for the sorrow to pass away
Yes I must forge the words that I care
This is not the evidence of a dare
Not the account of the clothes I wear
Just heart pounding and mind glare
You were all that mattered
Forgotten footsteps of a baby’s patter
Lost promises of a love canvas’ torn tatter
As I watch the paint cry in a somber splatter
In fragments and tatters, in pieces and shards, scattered by the winds of time,
I gather them carefully, even if they hurt me, my fingers bleed, but I do not stop,
These precious fragments, these bitter shards, these tattered edges and broken tears,
I collect them with longing, refusing to let them fall into oblivion,
Each piece carries with it a story, an echo of what once was,
A puzzle of lost memories, a constellation of desires and regrets,
I cannot let them be lost in the void, to dissolve into the silence of forgetting,
For they are part of me, of who I was and who I am now,
I carve a path through the shadows of the past, through the ruins of shattered dreams,
I bend down to gather what remains, to weave again the tapestry of my life,
With each shard and each tatter, I build a new beginning,
I refuse to give up, to surrender to despair, for in these fragments lie the seeds of hope.
Titter Tatter Pitter Patter Happy Halloween Hal
Got his own jack-o-lantern thanks to a good pal.
What is that? Asked Sassy Sue, his current gal.
She made fun of the jack-o-lantern and his pal Hal.
Titter Tatter Pitter Patter Happy Halloween Hal
Dumped her that very day, and found a more positive gal.
rags
grimy, sodden,
frustrating, frazzling, hording,
tatter, wretchedness, opulences, luxuries,
cha-chinging, amassing, owing,
abundant, affluent,
riches
Date written: 05/28/2023
platter fell out of cupboard with a loud clatter
mrs mczatter nearly ceased her weird chatter
my uncle datter stopped eating his chocolate cake batter
grandma slatter asked me "what is the matter?"
Platter was metal, so it did not break or shatter
mrs mczatter resumed her incessant pratter
natter and tatter argued who had to pick up the platter
datter wished it had been porcelain "so we would have had a splatter."
Watch it walsh a second more
What would be too late for shore
To see it come when nothing matters
Though once again you knew some tatter
To say you'll find it still a latter
when all you travel comes and gathers
For what is love but by the way
When seas will turn the rivers beiygh
As rain puddles the ground,
tatter-tatter falls the sound.
It climbs up railings
and flows through the streets.
And here we are in the rain.
Side by side and alone,
almost like we would be blown.
The wind howls,
louder than owls,
and we're forced to look each other in the eye
barely about to cry.
I ask you what you want again,
but I feel so drained.
You tell me that you're in pain,
but only because you want the gain,
of using your powers to put me in wane.
I scream and yell,
wailing like hell,
and leave you in the rain,
as rain puddles the ground.
Starry nights,
laying wide-awake;
lost in thoughts dark and deep.
No one sings lullabies
by your bedside
to ease you to sleep.
Cold nights,
curled up in woe;
starving to the core.
No one cares
if you need a repast
or sleep with an echoing stomach sore.
Thunderous nights,
yowling on your knees;
feeling hopeless in a pit.
No one holds you
while you break,
so you fall apart bit by bit.
Full moon nights,
numbing yourself with nicks and cuts;
hoping your hurt will wane.
No one cares
or tells you its going to be okay,
so you go insane.
Every morning you still get out of bed,
when all you want is to be dead;
after living through nights of hell.
No one applauds
or pats your back,
for the times you rose after you fell.
But it’s time old soul
to hum your pacific lullaby,
kill your anti-hero hunger
and stitch your own tatter.
It’s time to pat yourself from the back,
parade your self-love;
for you need no one
to tell you that you matter.
In the heart of this child
Was confusion, then pain
The day my mom and dad
Broke-up, you see my dad
Was the love of my life so
When my mom made him leave
I fell to pieces and my heart
Was broken into a million pieces
I cried everyday for him
I wanted my daddy boon, tatter poon
That’s what I use to call him
I cried to my mom to let him
Come back home but she wouldn’t
I felt lost and so alone without him
For a six-year old, who just wanted
Her dad back home, was
Heartbreaking!
June 6, 2021
MALABIKA RAY CHOUDHURY
A TENDER MOMENT FROM CHILDHOOD
eat a sentence for dinner aperitif if
making a s
-------------t
-------------r
------------u
------------c
------------t
--------------u
------------------y
-------------------o
----------------------u
-------------------------r off tiltler
Tatter
----------------ed ripped a
part from form traps
just a push to schizophrenic
In this abyss of reality abysmally real
My lone ness hides amongst annunciated words
and the presses ash covered buttons
speaking to myself has become such a chore
can't stand that
dictate my pace
with space
e st al yours lf away from h r
-----e---------e-----------------e- e
taking my embers
none remember
all for got
to go those
maniacs inside here are definitely
up to something
Beaten down for centuries
Splattered in newsprint for all to see
It has been that way ever since
they came from Africa on hollowed ships
Enslaved, raped, hanged, broken
Traded for sins unspoken
Successful towns burned to the ground
Wiped from the maps never to be found
Protestors marched as sons and daughters were shot
Police bullets took lives without a mere thought
The unarmed men and women trying to survive
in a country who ruled they had no right to life
Battered and beaten, black lives shattered
Skin color, if Black leads to lives in tatter
Equal Pay? Equal rights? Do Black lives really matter?
Republicans gerrymandering to silence their rights
Statesmen cloaked scheming through dark days and nights
The front of their neck rests the white man’s knee
trying to gasp out the words “save democracy”
Ignoring their foes
they showed up in droves
Standing in line
No concept of time
Wind howls, rain pour
the right to vote has never been yours
It’s time to put aside my pen and pout awhile.
Forty years of dreams squashed like a beer can
under the wheel of a wild vintage car.
It’s time to sulk, to bathe myself in self-hatred.
Brooding on my past failures to create,
a box I created and can’t escape.
Let the gloom of the night roll slowly over me.
Showing the failure, I was born to be.
Hang on the cross for all eternity.
But just as Prometheus, bore his daily due,
Liver picked, torn, a bleeding tatter.
I return expecting a difference.
Please allow to me my daily state of morose,
doesn’t last longer than a cigarette.
Now ready to strive forward once again.
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