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JBH Nov 2017
Follow me to wonderland!
The place where I live

A place of mystic and wonder
A place where you never have to grow up
A place to dance with the lightning and thunder

But... like all good things there is a catch

If you choose to follow me down the rabbit hole throug the hatch

The price of admission you have to pay ,its not money in stacks....

Is your sanity my dear how bout that!
And before you yell thats a gruesome
crime


Please let me explain give me the time

In wonderland
You see my dear friend in order to survive

You must truly lose mind

Other wise you will never get there
Not in this life time


So let's go hand in hand

And let's stop with this meaningless chatter

And follow to wonderland where you will become as mad as a hatter.
I wrote this in honour of my favorite childhood movie and memories
Angela Rose Oct 2017
Follow the rabbit he will take you to happiness
Do not be late, do not miss that date
You could get lost in a sea of confusion
You would be deceived by the ostensible outlook

You could go fetch seven little men
You could be the fairest of them all
Beware of the deep and everlasting sleep
You would be deceived by the apple's red color

Worry about the petals, they are falling so quickly
He will be stuck that forever if you cannot make him love you
Keep an eye on the rose, it is far too beautiful to let go
You will be deceived by the appearance of a beast

Stuck in a tower, do not ever look down
Grow out your hair past the tall brick walls
Spot a good man, make him rescue your heart
You would be deceived by the family relations

Cleaning the bathroom, making the bed
Sneak out to town, be invited to a dance
"Fairy Godmother, please just give me once chance"
You would be deceived by the loss of one shoe

So waiting, I am waiting for an answer to come
Looking for one man to be the one that I want
A fairy-tale ending is nothing I am after
For I would be deceived by the misinterpretations of the story
This little poem is something I wrote back in high-school, but is one of the pieces I am most proud of and most impressed with myself over.
Eiram N Jul 2017
There’s a funny tale read to children today
about a nonsense world found in the fields
on one manic hot morning
past a bubbling stream softly singing
at the place where a curious girl took her tumble
down a long hallway full of puzzles
and doors. If you’re sane, you wouldn’t be here
but here you are now, and it’s all so queer
how food enlarges your body to epic proportions
and critters, not of your typical garden variety,
don’t bother with “excuse me’s”,
“please’s” and “thank you’s”, but most of all
a strange sight to behold, a purple cat
on how to navigate this whimsical thicket
disappears with a trace, you see, of his wide grin of glee
so let us now stroll through the wood, to the Mad Hatter’s
where a tea party goes on forever and ever
and he hasn’t the slightest idea of the answers
to his many riddles.
In the distance rose trees painted red are growing,
while the Queen of Hearts is growing red
with hot rage at her subjects
in the midst of the oddest croquet game
with hedgehogs and flamingos as the ***** and mallets.
Now you could choose to stay here, or try to depart,
I grant you this place’s not for the faint of heart
But once you leave you’ll think about it
the absurdity has made you smile.
You’ll stand again
in the fields of another manic hot morning
hoping to God that White Rabbit will again be coming
late, late, for his very important date,
otherwise the thought of it fills you with dread,
because outside the fairytale books which you once loved and read,

a Wonderland must exist!
For all the magical stories that became a part of who I am today. I think those stories are not completely gone, just lost, trapped somewhere in the boxed confines of my brain... and searching for a good poem to muster.
kayla Jun 2017
when you feel like Alice
with no rabbit hole

take a look in a looking glass
and search for your soul.

You could stare and stare
with all your might,

But at the end of the look
There’s still no you in sight.
Brianne Rose Jun 2017
Alice! Alice! Come here, Come look at this chalice!
Alice! Alice! Come! Take a stroll through my wonderful Palace!

Alice! Alice! Tis' the Red Queen! She wants you dead!
"Alice! Alice! Tis' Off with your head!"

Alice! Alice! Hurry! Through this door!
Alice! Alice! The Red Queen is no more!

Alice! Alice! Wake up it's time for class!
Alice! Alice! Through the Looking Glass!
Based off the movie Alice through the Looking Glass, I've never seen it but i wanted to do an Alice in Wonderland themed poem, so here we are!
Nicole May 2017
She climbed out of the window to her bedroom and into the cool night sky. Dressed in black ripped jeans and a dark colored hoodie, so she dissolves into the darkness.
A case of Corona in her hand, she jumps the few feet to the ground. Her knees bend to soften the harsh landing. She stands back up to her full height, though it isn’t that tall.
Her hood, covers her face so that she is a mystery.
The night time accepts her with open arms, understanding that she needs to be unknown for the time being to be her true self.
She stalks away from her ‘home’. Her sharp, rushed movements standing out against the white walls. Then she breaks off into a run, wanting to get away as fast as she can, not being able to stand being close any longer. She runs to her night time escape, laying down in the middle of the field underneath the leafless tree.
She looks up at the stars, wondering who each one was.
What kind of souls turn into stars when their time on earth is up?
She lets the hope that she is one of those souls slip into her mind just this time. But for only a moment, before pushing it away.
Her experience with hope has shown her that it only brings pain and heartbreak.
She reaches over to the 6-pack and takes a bottle out, sitting up. It settles into her hand like it has been destined to since it’s creation, comfortable between her fingers. She takes the bottle opener out of her left pocket and brings it to the lips of the bottle. The top pops off in one fluid motion, the practice she’s had making it as easy as breathing. She brings the rim to her chapped angry red lips, then tilts it up quickly, taking a short sweet sip of the poison ambrosia.
It tickles as it slides smoothly down her throat. She lets a small content sigh slip out and be taken away in the breeze. At home, that is how she feels sitting underneath that tree.
The stars are her shelter and the field is her bed, soft and welcoming, the tree, an old friend. Here she lets the tears run freely down her face. The salt water mixing with the bitter taste of alcohol.
She’s screaming, wailing.
Asking the universe why she hates herself so much, why they don’t want her. Why can’t he love her the way she loves him? Why can’t she already be dead? Maybe then he would realize just how much she meant to him, how much he meant to her.
As she lets this fire slip from her throat, she doesn’t notice the boy dressed in blue on the other side of the field. She doesn’t realize she isn’t alone until he is sitting next to her with one hand grasping hers.
She startles when his skin comes in contact with hers. Then she looks at him, his blue eyes, blue face, blue heart, blue soul, unsure if he can be let into her secret home. He sees her hesitate, so he brings her hand to his lips and whispers his secrets into her skin.
The tenseness in her shoulders is released and she squeezes his hand tightly. They are both on a mission to escape the lives they live.
Both have minds burdened with memories and bodies littered with scars. Running from the demons in their homes.
She reaches over to the cardboard keeper of sins and plucks another bottle from its grasp. She takes the opener and rips the top from the bottle’s lips, handing it to the Blue Boy.
He takes it with the hand not wrapped in hers and brings it to his lips quickly. Tilting it back, he downs the whole bottle. He sets the empty bottle back into the cardboard as its poison takes effect.
Then he’s stumbling to his feet and dragging her with him, towards the forest standing menacingly behind them.
She runs after him, feet not quite touching the ground and laughter hanging in their air. Engulfed in darkness under the canopy, they giggle and whisper secrets of death.
Without the stars to see by, they fall into a rabbit hole. Spiraling down to their private Wonderland, where there is no home for them and the Mad Hatter is their friend.
They can run through clouds and save each other from the demons under their beds.
Their bruises scream, convicting the guilty and their memories wail in relief from them.
But Alice couldn’t stay in her Wonderland, so neither can they. Waking from their dream, back underneath the tree, weeping at the loss of the make believe and forced to go back to reality, where their demons have them in a choke hold and the guilty hide behind atrocious lies.
xx May 2017
I found myself under
the dance of flashing lights
and dimming night,
of talking clouds
and breathing hours,
the hands of time
would tick in his hand;
loud enough he told me
as his voice reverberates in my ear,
"Welcome to Wonderland."
Hannah Mar 2017
What a world it would be
if the moon were the sun,
if the sky was the land,
or if darkness never won.
What a world it would be
if the dreamers never dreamed,
if the losers always lost,
or if the poets knew of fun.
What a world it would be
if Alice never fell,
if her looking glass was solid,
or if her heart was icy cold.
What a world it would be
if backwards meant forwards,
if humans never settled,
or if God's word was blurred.
What a world it would be
if everything were backwards,
if Alice was happy,
or if the hatter wasn't mad.
What a world it would be
if right meant wrong,
if white was black,
or if politicians knew of love.
What a world it would be
if the killers gave flowers,
if the lovers really loved,
or if love would alway last.
It be a wonderland of sorts,
a world made of nonsense,
but it be worth it to have
if sadness meant happiness,
if beggars gave cheers,
or if hatred meant kindness.
It be a world I could live in
if acceptance reigned on,
if everything meant nothing
there'd be nothing to con.
We would all be the same
nobody would be wrong.
If we lived in a wonderland
we would all move along.
We'd be lost in our heads
singing our own little song.
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?
~ Alice
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