Hear ye,
Ye ******.
Cursed and broken,
Filthy and frail.
Hear ye,
Hear ye.
And yield.
Yield your,
Broken souls.
Yield them
Weak minds:
Your weak minds.
You shall,
Resist no more,
Resistance,
It is futile.
Succumb, now
To your fate,
A terrible one,
Filled with fear.
Burning, burn.
Burn forever,
In the depths,
Of hell.

Through the looking glass I peered, hoping,
Hoping to see another world.
Alice, oh Alice, how envy I you,
Dreaming, still dreaming,
But your dreams come true.

No one moved, not a single spoke, silence,
All around the world grew, or shrink it did.
It was you, Alice, you,
You were the one who grew.
Eat of that mushroom you did.

The caterpillar, smoking its pipe, wheezes,
In the garden, the flowers did sing.
You fell down the rabbit’s hole,
Not too long ago,
A new world you discovered.

The Cat, what was it called? Cheshire.
It’s wide grin, plump body.
Here, there, nowhere, it vanishes and reappears,
A cat without a grin, you’ve seen,
Not a grin, without the cat.

The Mad Hatter, the March Hare, seated,
Dormouse still sleeping.
Table long, tea cups and pots,
All set and ready,
Truly a Mad Tea-Party.

The Queen, oh, Her Majesty, Red hearts,
Loyal subjects pay their respects.
Golf, was it? No – croquet, you played.
Flamingos and hedgehogs,
Certainly a difficult game.

Painting the roses red, they were,
Red, red roses. The gardener,
He grew them all wrong: White roses from the trees,
Card soldiers, hard work.

Roused, awakened, your sister came, running,
A dream you thought.
It must have been, maybe,
The mushroom in your pocket, the white rabbit’s glove,
You know where you’ve been.

White, cold, silent and still.
The birds, their songs, no more.
People hiding in their homes,
Nature is waging a war.

Snow falls. Heavy and thick.
The animals, all asleep.
Houses bending under the weight,
Earth pulling us nearer.

Songs of joy, sung no more,
Mourning cries, through the trees.
Humans weep, animals sleep,
Will summer come once more?

Each night, they lie, waiting,
Silently, still, they lie flat.
Paper thin, shadows looming,
That’s what they are. Shadows.

Patient, patient, ever so patient,
Always waiting, waiting.
An eternity passes, yet, they
Wait, waiting for that chance.

A loop, a hole, the golden ratio,
Movements swift, precise.
Beautifully, they lift you, lift
You up, off your bed,

Into the skies…

Tonight, my Final Draft is due,
Tonight at eleven.
Eleven, fifty-nine, tonight,
I’m dead and in heaven.

My project, please read,
The previous post. That
and this finish,
Then you’ll know it’s bad.

My Final Draft is not,
Proper, well done, innovative,
Messed up with every edit,
I’m pretty sure I’ll fail.

Has the world become silent,
Lightning, no thunder.
Boiling, yet no whistle.

Has it gone cold, unfeeling,
Tasteless and rude.

The world, has it become blind,
Not seeing the good,
Pointing out flaws,
Greed, while others are in poverty.

It must have become deaf,
No one to lend an ear.

Or is it broken,
Heart, soul, mind.
Crying in secret,
approaching insanity.

The world has lost God,
All seek to erase him.
Blaming him for all bad,
Taking credit for the good.

The world does not see,
even with the many eyes out there.

It does not hear, nor feel,
Does not taste the sweetness,
Speak for others.

The world, is no more,
No more that place.
Not anymore.

The wind blows, while I wind my clock,
It blew the clothespins off, hurting me, leaving a wound, while I wound my clock.
Tears trickled down, falling onto the wound; tear the contract!
They left it behind, in the desert. Deserted.
They said the had agape love, and that left me with my mouth agape.
Aye! They said they had for aye.
Bless them, the blessed. Blessed they are.
The wind continued to blow, the sands to buffet me, I could only think back the the grand buffet.
What to do? Could I sing? From do?
I opened my mouth, then spotted a dove, a dove in the desert? Then it dove down into the sand.
Will it? Can it? Lead me out of this desert? But my feet were feeling as heavy as lead.
A market… Where to get some fresh produce… Who will produce them? In a desert.
And I presented myself with a map and compass, a present from me to me. Happy birthday, I wished myself.
In that minute, I had learned so much. I was a learned man, in a giant desert. I was minute.