I KNOW WHY THE CROW WILL CAW

I know why the Crow will caw
—the crow will caw—
he will caw in Chicago next to his cousin, the Dove

I know why the Dove will coo
—the Dove will coo—
she will coo in New York City
where she searches for food
next to her companion, the Robin

and I know where the Robin flies,
why she sings, and why she cries
and when she falls
—when her wings cease to beat—
she sings no more
—no more will the Robin sing—

a caw is heard in the distance
and the Crow, he freezes
—his wings sputter to a stop—
and no more does he caw
just like the Robin, who sang

and I know where the Dove rests
—she rests in the park next to the bench—
and the worm escapes her, for her mouth is suddenly slack
and her wings will not wave
—she cannot leave the ground—
suddenly her coo is heard no more
just like the Crow, who cawed
and the Robin’s song
no more will they be heard

I know when it rains and pours
the Robin will offer her jacket—brown-speckled—
and the rain will fall
just like the Crow will caw
and the Dove will coo
rain will start to fall
and the Robin will offer her jacket

somewhere above she sings
and her jacket—brown-speckled—protects some
but many are hit
and then they fall
and no more might they sing
their coats—speckled are they—now thrown in the ring

they fight a battle
against an invincible foe,
yet they lost long ago,
so they throw in their jackets—speckled-jackets—
and, the Robin, she sings a song
—a prolific song—
and her jacket—brown-speckled—protects what it can,
as she sings from Heaven above.

–Chels

*This poem was published in a journal sold to raise money to help find a cure for the AIDS disease. The hyphenated areas are meant to be echoed when read aloud.

THE BOOGEY MAN

They say I am your imagination
—the liar beneath your bed,
behind closet doors.
I am a creature
and folklore has sent me to beseech you
“Come here, my child,” I say.

My body is illustrated by you—
hot tamales glaring
muscled sweetarts rolling
laffy taffy tongue snarling—
gobbling—boys and girls.

You lie there
—vacant—
cotton candy dreams shining,
tumble-weeding in your mind.
I can see it in your twitch,
behind your lemon drop eyelids.
I’ve heard it—your assumed purity—
blowing bubbles in your scream.
I cackle.

Beneath your night breath
you groan,
eager to escape this nightmare
that is me.
I send you goose-bumps that trigger a shiver
and pray you never learn that

I am your Pinocchio.

And so I draw the shadows near my breasts
—facades soaked in fool’s gold—
while you rest unaware.

The tip of my finger slithers across your face,
as I lean in.

I whisper, “Wake up!”

-Chels

JUDAS ISCARIOT’S LIPS

I am crusty,
flaking with each lie.
Our face is masked,
and I do not unveil our untruth.
We sit next to him—
the one I betrayed,
and I continue to scald him—
to cut his skin—
as we pretend.

In hours, it will be over.
The daggers I cover have dulled.
An innocent man will be nailed upon the cross,
and Death will stalk him there.

He breaks bread.
Pieces of the crust speckle his beard
like dying embers against the patched earth.
And his wine—it splashes over,
painting splotches of fallen stars on the table top.

I wonder at his serenity—
surely, he cannot know
of our dissipated friendship.
And I wonder,
whatever should I answer
if he were to ask—
if he were to say—
That I know.
I know what you’ve done.

I am gritty,
tougher than the calloused.
He walked on water,
cured, lepers and the blind.
Fool! Can’t he see?
We bring him Death.

The three kings brought him:
gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

And so I spit acid.
Soon it will be over.
We have sparred, and we have won.

Yet—

in his lips
— in his eyes—
he knows of my betrayal—

Shh! He speaks.

-Chels

Thank you for visiting this website! My name is Chelsie Bryant, and I am a sophomore at the University of Cincinnati (if you have not seen the About page, check it out to learn more!). As an English literature major with a track in creative writing: fiction, I am looking to become a published novelist. This website exists primarily to promote my writings; however, there may or may not be a few postings here and there to chronicle my journey through the university’s English program and my life here as I discover who I am. I would also like to issue a big thank you to my friend, Brandon Schamer, who has created this website for me!

-Chels

Welcome to the new ChelsBryant.com.

Find all the latest news and writings from Chels right here.