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Rachael Judd Jan 2016
Take my hand

And watch me go

To places that are unknown

Follow my feet

Under this bridge

Down the rabbit hole

To meet again

Just like Alice

Lost in wonderland
icarus Jan 2016
I can't find my head.
This isn't much of a poem. Looking back at it, I think it's actually a piece of micro-fiction. I like it, though.
It feels so vivid (frequency)

---—---------->>>>>
                
                                    <<<<<<   ------------------------


Constantly thinking every minute. ^ v


Huh **** un be  defferent ?
            
If the NEW sttlyle is toby differant.



If these words were a drug

(  Cough- needle hits arm.  )    


                                               I will never kick it.  


----—--—-———--




Peep the will in me.





Emotional stability.




Responsibility.  ( Freedom = responsibility )




In  Truth  ,  Love  ,


& symmetry. 



My patience...

..........................                          ­--—-----------------------





                             ---------------------



My life After death



Only a lucky few shall recycle my genius.


 The lack of human stimulation



did not amaze him..


Annoyed with their commotion.


Lifeforms


distracted through mixed emotions.

The catacombs. the dead resurfaces  as I write this poem.



This is all expressed to my ocean.

Trust it.

Climb the summit.


Learn to rise above it.


My communication.

My operation.

My construct.




     He had a schizophrenic disease.
I'm NOT SCHIZOPHRENIC.  BUT it seems my disobedience is what sets me free.

Simply put, spelling and grammer are simply
CONTROL mechanisms for the weak minded. It
diverts the TRUE purpose of LANGUAGE - which
is to CONVEY A MESSAGE. The cattle on the other
hand thinks language (due to the concept of
grammar) is some sort of sport, where you get
points for doing things 'correctly' and with 'skill'
and for 'following the rules'.
NO! YOU can say, write, or express whatever,
or however you want to.
He turned to me
With his creeping grin

Saying

Once gone through the looking glass
we never come back again

So you may be strange
*but we are all mad here
Inspired by aiw
Day Dec 2015
alice......*
stop trying to
keep the time
with a
broken watch.
Day Dec 2015
alice......
*remember that even though
you
escaped
the looking glass
you'll never escape
yourself
I’m no Alice in Wonderland,
But I am more like the Cheshire Cat,
They say I am more deranged
Than the Mad Hatter’s hat,
They say I can be quite rude
Like the Queen of Hearts
And like the March Hare
I sometimes nervously fall apart,
I’m no caterpillar
Blowing smoke rings
But I might as well be same to them all,
Because I’m madly curious about things.
DarlingDivine Sep 2015
I got lost
For a while
I might still actually be
Lately the blues look like greens
And the greens look like blue
Though, All my dreams still contain fragmented images of you
Have I been here for days?
Or just a few grains of sand?
The flowers spoke
But I responded kindly with a strike from the sword in my hand.
How did it get there?
How did what get where?
Oh yes, the flowers, I suppose they know the Hatter and the Hare
But its not about the tea pots or crumpets
but about the four ace soldiers with trumpets
The Queen will arrive any minute
With the clubs and the spades all the same
In their white and their black suits.
I ran through the roses as fast as I could
but the raven was wearing me boots.
Brent Kincaid Aug 2015
It was the Saturday before Halloween
And my friends were having a blowout.
For the first time in a long time I chose
To make an exception and go on out
Dressed up for the occasion that night
As Moses without the tablets, a mask,
And when I got there, nobody groaned
Instead, I got offered a hit on a flask.

So, I arrived at the party, not hopeful
That a good time would be had by all.
I wore my silly old man mask at first
And my long gold robe to cover it all.
No biggie, everyone was dressed up
In outrageous, fantasy forms of attire
There were princesses and knights.
I called one crowned fellow sire.

My friends were doing a wine tasting
In connection with the happy affair
So, I took them up on all of that
After doffing my mask full of long hair.
We joked and told each other tales
Of our activities at work and home.
Later, I found myself kissing with
A hot to trot, **** garden gnome.

Then my oldest buddy Dan said,
“Let’s take this to the Boulevard.
It was just five blocks to the south
So the walk won’t be that hard.”
Seeing the adventure in this
Nobody disagreed even a little
We took off in a clump of twenty
With me masked, close to the middle.

First was our friend, Allan the artist.
He’d constructed a seven foot ****.
He wore black pants and shoes
But the papier mache did the trick.
Second was the Darth Vader guy,
A lawyer in a fine rented outfit.
Behind him was Doctor Ucia Sickie
In scrub greens with ****** clots on it.

There was Raggedy Anne and Goofy
And a couple of Midnight Cowboys
And Dan was dressed quite normally
Because he was the outing’s decoy.
See, most of us were a bit drunk, and
Nobody had any dope on them then
As it was a touchy time about ***
In the days of Reagan, way back when.

Daniel didn’t care. Without telling a soul
He had whipped up Toklas brownies
And passed them to us, getting us ripped
Completely unknown to most of the townies.
Dan raised great window-box stuff, so I
Remembered, in two bites, from times before,
And soon I got that happy, toasty feeling
And my shyness was suddenly no more.

Of we went, twenty fools wide then
Wandering down the Avenue of Stars
Goggling at the crowd, the costumes,
The zinging lights and the hopping cars.
Everyone had beer bottles, not just us
Or wine bottles and were guzzling glad
About this happy, jam packed occasion
There was no way to be bored or sad.

The cholos were dancing their hydraulics
On cars that cost more than some homes,
And the sidewalks were all overflowing
With humans thick as laundry foam.
It wasn’t really walking, it was standing up
And letting the tide of people carry me
In a Mardi Gras atmosphere of loopy fun
That offered up nothing to worry me.

We went all the way to Fairfax, then we
Turned around and made our way back
A knotted mass of silly people gabbing
Like hamsters running on an invisible track.
Halfway down, at about Hudson street,
In front of me I heard something loud.
People were screaming with laughter
And gathered in an even tighter crowd.

The middle of a circle, with TV cameras,
Was Allan, the seven foot ****, corralling
A six foot, totally authentic Miss Piggy
And she was fending him off giggling.
He kept putting the huge head of his guise
Down toward her thighs, and the crowd
Applauded, hooted, whistled and laughed
And it seemed the Boulevard just howled.

It was on the news the next morning
As we all were sure it would have to be
But that night became a noteworthy one
For all of my friends, strangers and me.
You never know what will happen to you
When you let yourself be a bit more free.
You might end up in a Halloween Parade.
Well. At least that’s what happened to me.
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