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Dream Fisher May 2017
"Stop writing" says one-half of my mind
"Just quit it's a useless skill, just biding your time."
While the other half tells me to get back on my grind
Not using what you have is like the sighted walking blind
I'm the head case that got thrown into chaotic box
With a fox in socks, but I've got a lot of time on my hands
With all these rusty old clocks, just ask Mr. Knox.
He'd say I'm still off my rocker,
Been a poet since skeletons started stalking,
Been writing since the doors got so jammed, they stopped locking.

So judge me, we aren't seeing through the same eyes
On streets where eventually it all dies
I've been my own therapist, philosopher, psychologist.
All I've got is the skin on my back, I gave away my clothes
No one knows where this rabbit hole goes
I bring shame to even hatters being this mad
You'll need a lizard with a ladder to climb to the mindset I've had
Welcoming all into my Wonderland.

I'd grab the devil by the horns
Just to say I rode that bull
Never born legends, but molded to heroes
Life chisels  children to men in seconds
Beckoning demons, only time will tell your battle
With beetles in bottles or a half-million headed hydra
The sword is yours, own that fight, own the right
To go out into that good night
David P Carroll Nov 2016
She is truly perfect she is truly from above I truly would always call you a little perfect blonde princess no other princess like you shines as bright in life your truly a special looking young woman who's beauty would truly melt into any man's heart your from above and truly I feel in love your warm gentle touch would truly brighten any man's saddened heart o your truly from above.
David P Carroll
Truly From Above
David P Carroll Sep 2016
Our Hearts Together
My love for you is so utter true love
From deep inside my sorrow heart I could never explain why I truly love you and how truly deep the love inside me is your one of a kind in life I cannot stop thinking about your warm honest heart I think about you and it makes my heart smile I'm truly grateful to have a wonderful women as bright beautiful like you in my life when I sad and lonely feeling down
I stop and think about you my heart smiles and beats of true love and utter happiness so glad
When I think about you my true love our hearts where ment together mine beats love yours beats happiness together forever in each other's hearts and we shall never be torn apart my true love.
David P Carroll
True love
A B Follie Jan 2016
Life, what is it but a dream?
Things are never what they seem:
Masquerading moonlight schemes.

Dreaming as the summers die,
Straining for the heron's cry,
Echoing the endless, "why?"

Lovingly shall nestle near
Each evasive leeching fear
Roaming round this earthly sphere.

Never seen by waking eyes
Is the maiden fair with lies,
Turned away with every tide.

Autumn frosts have slain July.
Springtime hearts that should not sigh
Walk into the wintertime.

Pleased a simple tale to hear,
Loath to drop a burden dear,
The tired, twisted whisperer.

In an evening of July
Souls are lit by fireflies.
Time alone will make them wise.
Inspired by "Alice's Poem" by Lewis Carroll.
Dark bat, would I were curious as thou art-
Like a tea-tray twinkling at night,
And lying with eternal wings apart
Til morning when you end your flight,
And spend the day at your raven-like desk
Chanting incantations old and obscure
With lyrics obscene and Kafkaesque
Quoting first Foucault, then Sassure -
No-yet still puzzling, still remarkable
A black beacon amid shades of grey -
Elusive, and in pursuit quite snark-able.
To you I am drawn as a ****** to ****
I’ll be your muse and you’ll be my death.
A sonnet I wrote for an eccentric guy with a Lewis Carroll/general literature fixation. It's the only sonnet that I have a record of writing and I'm quite happy with it even though it doesn't completely scan.
sara Jun 2014
a blonde waitress in a diner on minimum wage
located off route 66
reads a battered book with a missing last page
hoping to find a quick fix

with no family, friends, or cash to her name
she needed to find a way out
but a greying old man with a monocle came
and quickly sorted her out

he placed a tablet before her
and ran off in a terrible state
but he called back over his shoulder
"oh my goodness, how could i be late?"

she was puzzled and thought she had imagined it
as the night shifts had made Alice sleepy
but she peered down at the strange looking tablet
and made out the two words 'eat me'

'what harm could it do?' she inquired
as she carefully picked up the pill
as she swallowed, her throat was on fire
and she began to feel rather ill

her surroundings, they became hazy
and her the blood in her body ran cold
she convinced herself it was a daydream
as she felt herself fall down a hole

she fell with a thud, then looked around
and noticed that objects were massive
then she realised that she was 10 feet underground
stuck in a dark, ***** passage

a light in the distance lead her to a door
'what's behind it?' Alice then wondered
and as she was now incredibly small
she was able to just slip right under

peering around, she was taken aback
as Alice saw things she did not understand
in the midst of the night lay a large cheshire cat
which grinned and said 'Welcome to Wonderland'
i know the details aren't right and it's not really in chronological order but it's just my interpretation of alice and wonderland by lewis carroll because that dude was high as hell when he wrote it :)))))))))))))
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
I have a fairy by my side
Which says I must not sleep,
When once in pain I loudly cried
It said "You must not weep"
If, full of mirth, I smile and grin,
It says "You must not laugh"
When once I wished to drink some gin
It said "You must not quaff".

When once a meal I wished to taste
It said "You must not bite"
When to the wars I went in haste
It said "You must not fight".

"What may I do?" at length I cried,
Tired of the painful task.
The fairy quietly replied,
And said "You must not ask".

Moral: "You mustn't."
There are two things about this poem that made me want to post it.
1)After I say number 2 this seems rude maybe, but the way he wrote it was somewhat silly and made me laugh. Of course after much actual thinking I came to:
2) it seems like he's talking about sleep paralysis, which isn't a  commonly written about subject. I enjoy this poem and I hope others do too.

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Anastasia Webb Apr 2014
My blood runs cold
My heart beats slow;
and I can see the world
groaning as it spins
upon the point
of a finger.

My pupils dilate
I fear it may be too late;
and trees are twisting
mouths are yawning
open to swallow
the stars.

My veins contract
Life no longer intact;
so far from the horizon
and that burning bright sun
dazzling my blind
creamy eyes.
RJ Days Apr 2014
He fell away with his uffish head all full
and he bought what we couldn’t buy him and
he didn’t buy what we swallowed whole
or at least he sold it back or gave it away
for vorpal heresies & novel fascinations

And just like we taught him to ride the red
a few swipes away from bankruptcy and desolation
but welcome and chortled to fail if that’s
easier for now than climbing the Tumtum tree
or trying to make it in this world
well fed - given all to eat and truly loved

It’s curious how the rain gyred down today
and stopped and came again and stopped
because the cadence of his windshield wipers
seemed to coincide with the crankier parts:
only working when there’s nothing left to wipe

We don’t even give two ***** if a Jubjub bird
falls dead and he whiffles away, sword
between his legs (though that is dangerous)
and the beast escapes. He can eat the **** bird
for all we care, but for sustenance, not triumph

But our son is still lost; he’s frabjously
writhing in the tulgey fiber of disappointment
unable to slay even the puniest of borogoves
His melancholy surpasses all comprehension
and he isn’t coming home any time soon

He’s not galumphing back.

What use is a mimsy rhyme to the famished?
How often are we warned, beamishly chastised
of the brillig peril of worrying ourselves
with feeding the slithy soul
when the body burbles, always demands to eat first
and is satisfied by no less
than the frumious flesh of the fatted calf?

— The End —