BENEATH the flat and paper sky
The sun, a demon's eye,
Glowed through the air, that mask of glass;
All wand'ring sounds that pass

Seemed out of tune, as if the light
Were fiddle-strings pulled tight.
The market-square with spire and bell
Clanged out the hour in Hell;

The busy chatter of the heat
Shrilled like a parakeet;
And shuddering at the noonday light
The dust lay dead and white

As powder on a mummy's face,
Or fawned with simian grace
Round booths with many a hard bright toy
And wooden brittle joy:

The cap and bells of Time the Clown
That, jangling, whistled down
Young cherubs hidden in the guise
Of every bird that flies;

And star-bright masks for youth to wear,
Lest any dream that fare
--Bright pilgrim--past our ken, should see
Hints of Reality.

Upon the sharp-set grass, shrill-green,
Tall trees like rattles lean,
And jangle sharp and dissily;
But when night falls they sign

Till Pierrot moon steals slyly in,
His face more white than sin,
Black-masked, and with cool touch lays bare
Each cherry, plum, and pear.

Then underneath the veiled eyes
Of houses, darkness lies--
Tall houses; like a hopeless prayer
They cleave the sly dumb air.

Blind are those houses, paper-thin
Old shadows hid therein,
With sly and crazy movements creep
Like marionettes, and weep.

Tall windows show Infinity;
And, hard reality,
The candles weep and pry and dance
Like lives mocked at by Chance.

The rooms are vast as Sleep within;
When once I ventured in,
Chill Silence, like a surging sea,
Slowly enveloped me.

Life's a terrible nightmare
A terrible dream
That keeps on going
Going till you leave
Death is your wakening for the real thing
*Death is the truth the moment you die, the moment you leave

Take up your baton.
Warm up the orchestra
Make ready for
the sweetness to come.

Strum up the violins my maestro.
I want to hear the song
that awakens the senses
just once more.
It is my favorite one.
It never grows old.
It has been played for me
time and time again
but the notes still vibrate
through my soul.

Tune our instruments
to the purest note.
Make sure they resonate in sync.
The drumming will not keep time
but the beat stays
rhythmic and steady.
Our instruments perform
harmoniously.

Slow it down maestro
I wish to hear
The notes
One
At
A
Time…

Perfection.
Beauty.
Soul.
The theme of our melody.

Prepare me for the crescendo.
Let the beat transfer
from the rhythmic drumming
to the excitement
of my chaotic heart.

End our song with a
down tempo
from the wind instruments.
Allow it to drift
softly
to the final
rest.

I will follow you down the rabbit hole,
To see what can be found, but it wasn't
The fairy tale we were told, it was the
Dark side never seen light under the ground.

The rabbit was late for his execution,
They chopped off his head, it did roll
Across the ground. But the people and
Animals, they did hunger for more, so
A stew was made and his watch was
Sold for gold.

The mad hatter did hide in shadows,
Offering tea to those unsuspecting few,
And once they were in a sleep, he did
Bury them alive under the ground. He
Did a jig, when it was near there last
Breath and did whisper to the earth do
Not worry you are not alone there are
Many flowers buried around.

I walked on shaking you see for I had
Witnessed a serial killer, spiked tea
Handed out.

I meet a queen dressed in red, she smiled
And said do not worry girl your not my
Type, as she showed me around, then a
Room opened jars were neatly displayed
All around. In each I did see a beating
Heart, she said to me these are those that
Betrayed my trust all that is left is there
Beating hearts.

I ran through the court yard I ran across
The bridge, what twisted nightmare had I
Fallen in. I saw a caterpillar smoking a pipe,
What's up little lady fancy a ****, I asked
What it was that had him chilled out so much,
He spoke that he smoked the mushrooms
Scattered about.

I asked what were the bones scattered about,
Some on other mushrooms, others scattered
On the floor around. He said the mushroom
Is good, but to relaxed to care about eating
And things, and with that he blew in my face
As my head hit the floor I was in outer space.

I woke with a fright as my dress was up, and
Breath I could feel as I looked under, nothing
I could see. Then a grin appeared, then a mouth,
Then this knotted looking cat appeared looking
Up my dress trying to lick me out. What are you
Doing I screamed out why fish I could smile as
It licked its lips I was damp and grossed out.

I booted it once and twice in the mouth, this
Is the last ***** you'll lick as my heel crushed
Its skull not smiling now.

I had entered a mad land, not a fairy tale but
A twisted version so true, as I had to find a
Way out, then the white queen did come to
My rescue, to her palace I hid out, sniff this
My dear, don't worry its just to relax you out,
A needle she pulled and injected her self, then
Blood  dripped from her nose and her mouth.

I screamed, she looked up and said I am the
white which, ******* is my power then
her heart gave out. needle in her arm blood
dripping on her gown of white, I ran out but
ran in to a wall and knocked my self out.

I woke again to find my self in my bed, was this
All a dream that world I thought about, then the
Friend I did follow came in to my room, I shouted
Out where were you when I feel In the hole, and
Then a knife did appear though his chest, as the
Mad hatter said you thought you could escape
No one is truly safe when they fall down into
The dark place deep under ground...

I am from the past,
of mine and all the rest,
from memories and mind
and thinking for the best.

I am from the willows
drifting in the breeze,
from magnolias and maples
and the spray of salty seas.

I am from the orchards
packed with booming mines,
from sewing hands together
and fading away lines.

I am from a petrichor
soothing away pain,
from thunder on dry earth
and scent of dust after rain.

I am from the universe
every star that ever was,
from suns and moons and galaxies
and a magic police box buzz.

I am from counting stars
yet leaving time unnumbered,
from waiting 'til the day is right
and knowing the clock is slurred.

I am from the abandoned
forgotten and alone,
from black sight and forced fright
my supporters never known.

I am from the dream catcher
with borrowed feather tears,
eating all the insects
to drive away my fears.

And I am from the future:
the prospect and the test,
from seeking on for treasure
and a heart inside my chest.

I was six when I first saw kittens drown.
Dan Taggart pitched them, 'the scraggy wee *****',
Into a bucket; a frail metal sound,

Soft paws scraping like mad. But their tiny din
Was soon ******. They were slung on the snout
Of the pump and the water pumped in.

'Sure, isn't it better for them now?' Dan said.
Like wet gloves they bobbed and shone till he sluiced
Them out on the dunghill, glossy and dead.

Suddenly frightened, for days I sadly hung
Round the yard, watching the three sogged remains
Turn mealy and crisp as old summer dung

Until I forgot them. But the fear came back
When Dan trapped big rats, snared rabbits, shot crows
Or, with a sickening tug, pulled old hens' necks.

Still, living displaces false sentiments
And now, when shrill pups are prodded to drown
I just shrug, '****** pups'. It makes sense:

'Prevention of cruelty' talk cuts ice in town
Where they consider death unnatural
But on well-run farms pests have to be kept down.