Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Katrina Zechman Feb 2016
IM THE MAD ONE WELCOME TO WONDERLAD WHERE EVERYTHING IS BACKWORDS
AND EVERYONE IS MAD
I’m the mad hatter waiting for Alice to arrive
I’m the joker wondering "why so serious"
I’m Jeff the killer checks bleeding saying "go to sleep"
I’m the slender man with no eyes but always watching
I’m the face under Michael Myers Mask
I’m Alice looking through the Looking Glass
I’m the red Queen saying “OFF WITH THEIR HEAD”
I’m the boney white rabbit saying “I’m Late I’m Late”
I’m Jack Skellington saying “just because I cannot see it doesn’t mean I can’t BELIEVE in it”
I’m Cheshire the cat saying “EVERY ADVENTURE REQUIERS A FIRST STEP”
IM THE MAD ONE WELCOME TO WONDERLAD WHERE EVERYTHING IS BACKWORDS
AND EVERYONE IS MAD
Maple Mathers Feb 2016
I traveled down that pathway
I leveled my demise
My nose was an express train
Aiming for the skies. . .

I headed towards the house of crust
I swallowed all that white
Disguised within a golden husk
I crumbled with delight

I lay the rabbit on the spot
I crushed it with my rock
Up the hole, into the brain
The rabbit goes to flock

I chase it deep within my mind
I’d play with it forever
It snakes and weaves around the line
My smile, the true endeavor.
Musings born betwixt the crux of addiction, and the shackles of Avoidant Personality Disorder; documented by the poster-child for both.

(All poems original Copyright of Eva Denali Will © 2015, 2016)
Ana S Feb 2016
No time, no time.
Always time, always fine.
Cannot cannot.
Stop, it's not something that should be fought.
Can't stay can't stay.
Just a minute you won't be late.
No time, no time.
Be that way, fine.
The white rabbit
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.
Next page