"chesire" poems
Words like knives.
Spoke like rain.
Everything he said drove me insane.
Lips like cherries.
Tongue like viper.
Everything I said, shot down, ******
Eyes like storms.
Ears like caves.
Everything I said echoed back like waves.
Hands like hooks.
Arms like vines.
Every word he spoke, twist, entwine.
Laugh like witch.
Smile like Chesire cat.
Everything he gave, he took back.
Thinks like humans.
Soul like ice.
Every bullet was from him, don't have to think twice.
Memories like sunset.
Boy like moon.
Everything I had would be gone too soon.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
I forgot to take my medicine.
Don't freak out, but I forgot to take my pills.
My veins are not swirling and dancing and wait actually the pills probably slow them to stop swirling and dancing so I guess now is the time for said swirling and dancing, is it not?
I can feel a bit of mania in my head, so excited and so alive and so real. I can tell because there goes periods, out the window, never to be remembered or recollected or what was I talking about?
Its twitching and hopping and like Wonderland and here we go, no ashes, just painting the roses red, painting the roses red, here comes the queen of hearts and off there goes my head, we're painting the roses red, until we end up dead.
Am I somberly manic, or maniacally somber or am i even sad? I don't know its just the twitch, I can feel it, so Chesire under my skin, the smile is coming through and my head is racing and my focus is wasting away under the hot spotlight of my own personal theater. Bravo, Grace, take a bow!
Letters and figures and math and language, so different but so funny because people speak both, why do mathematicians not count as fluent in another language, because its certainly foreign to me.
Ooh, I probably should alert the one I never expected, tell him how my head's a twitching and my fingers a fluttering and all of it a maddening. I missed this, I'd hate to admit, with the progress and the productivity and the beauty and the wonder and the land and the magic carpet ride. What land am I in again?
How funny it would be to see an intoxicated me. Am I intoxicated now? I don't know, I act like it but nothing's in my veins to even the pills am I born intoxicated, am I intoxication incarnate, am I addictive, am I a problem?
I like my sweater today, its got words that I love and words that I feel, to be or not to be, that is the question, **** it feels like I'm on fire, my limbs are burning and I am flame reborn. Maybe I should take off my hat and let out some heat, but its a pretty hat and it might feel bad if I ignore it.
Time to go back to busy life, where the life is dull and i am the fire but I love the dullness and the normativity because it involves my wonderland friends and the one I never expected. They make me happy, which lets me fly like this. The flying fire is me.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
"which side of the island are you on?"
the sign read clear yet confusion spawned.
a month before it said, "what mean these stones?"
i thought i had it pegged but a new riddle roots my dome.
at first glance, it's simply north, south, west or east,
until a greater insight allows you to realize the beast.
the monster within, with a mischievous grin,
the chesire cat's supreme tiger of a twin.
you see, demons and angels atop shoulders will boast,
a toast to good and evil, which lures you in the most?
perhaps this island is theoretically unsound,
heaven and hell in a melting *** chaos surrounds.
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 9:49 PM UTC
He is the kind of guy that makes you go crazy.
Like a glimpse through the looking glass into a strangle world
with a Chesire Cat.
You might even question if he slipped something into your drink.
If only you had that effect on someone.
You spray your perfume on his clothes so that maybe,
oh maybe
he'll think of you next time he's taking off his shirt.
But when you wake up from the hangover,
the date ****
the euphoria,
he is just a man.
And maybe,
(is it that you weren't pretty enough?)
(could you have done something differently?)
you were too good for him anyway.
Apr 15, 2011
Apr 15, 2011 at 8:46 AM UTC
I hate to sleep.
The monsters and demons and sins and wraiths run rampant in my mind, and my control is lost. Control is key. Every impulse, every little tiny thought, leads me closer to madness. Slumber is madness creeping in upon me when I cannot steal myself from it.
Late to bed, and early to rise, leaves the insanity hidden until the day she dies.
The walking, the talking, the revealing of my truest thoughts occur when in slumber, and I hate it. That's why I don't sleep, that's why I'm last, always last, because I know that's when the crazy comes to play.
Lust, Gluttony, Vanity, Envy, Wrath, Greed, Sloth. All seven swirl in my veins, with a chesire smile concealing the truth of them. They swirl in all veins, they play their devil games in the night for everyone, but for me, its different. It always will be.
Seven little friends swimming in my head, begging me to become someone I am not. I'm not in love, but the *** is good. The mirror is a comrade in arms. The green of my eyes is for more than just genetics. The fat on my legs has a secret agenda. I feel the sickness of anger in my heart but it never shows. My selfish wiles are secret, but they are there, always screaming. And when boredom creeps, I let the angels weep.
I hate slumber, for all seven play their seductive little games inside the holes in my head, and I can never be free of it. I fear who I am when I sleep, for its not the face I know.
But with you, I slept.
That astounds me.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Kaleidoscope raindrops fill in low eyes,
and blotter tab lunatics jump up high-
Alice is missing! Chesire's loose!
The Jabberwock is drinking a burning juice
The ceiling's melting, and the clock's been moved;
Hey White Rabbit, you're gonna get bruised.
We need order in our not-so-sober minds,
Oh, Mad Hatter! Could you be so kind?
Have you seen the Caterpillar yet?
Where is he- can you bet?
I'm willing to gamble; that's not tobacco in his pipe-
Let it be known; he's high as a kite!
Alice, oh Alice...
What have you done?
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
perhaps I'm just alice walking sideways & upsides downsides through this rabbit hole
not a downfall, a ****** to the core of the earth
but an upfall (make me bright, I can see colour & roses) to the dimension
where the creatures have
stainless steel hearts
nobody ever hurts
unless the queen begs to differ
when her corset is revealed to be
suffocating her wicked waist
the jabberwocky seeks vengeance & a chance to breathe fire
"off with her head," is the threat from the enemy
but an escape is in sight
a little locked door
chesire smiles' a menacing grin
a crescent moon in the black night
it doesn't matter where you go if you don't know where you're going
a cake platter with "eat me" on a card in front
home? what is that?
tweedledee & tweedledum
mad hattee, tea, dormouse
and an unbirthday anthem sung
lacking gravity or worldly law
along the dining table for the quirks
and fablesome creatures of wonderland
-cj
Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 4:15 PM UTC
A Chesire cat grins at me tonight
I can only see his mouth
The rest of him is hidden in the black hemisphere
But he is kind,
He illuminates for me a glimpse of the cloud kingdom
Oh, but they look so lonely, without the birds.
In my stiff party dress
I follow Mad Hatter and Mad Hare
To a party where Mad Hatters and March Hares multiply
All so quarrelsome and confusing,
In company of the Queen of Hearts, King and queersome flat people,
As if one pair of Mad Hatter and Mad Hare
Wasn't bad enough.
When I arrive, what a fantastic sight I beheld
My cousins tell me what a giant I've become!
As I hugged them, I had to stoop, and thought;
As if I had any control over growth,
Well perhaps you shrunk - it's hardly my fault.
Then I felt rather miniature,
As I shook my uncles' and aunties' hands;
They were so big and booming with authority,
They pet my head and cooed at me,
I let them, not wanting trouble.
My, there was quite a chatter,
I easily got lost
But tediously, I managed to get out
It was as if I had drowned,
And was revived again,
By the creepy Chesire cat up high
I sat by the garden wall
How I felt tired and dull!
I longed for home
But I do not know where it is
So I wrapped a stolen coat around me
Because the Chesire cat's smile was indeed chilling
Then wondered when Ole Lukøje's brother will come
But I see Ole Lukøje's silhouette already
He takes me by the hand
And we danced into dreams.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 4:00 AM UTC
Listen softly, be very still,
Looking intently for a thrill.
Can you hear it, can this be?
The drum of hearts within a tree?
The hum of loves inside a box,
Behold its ever-changing locks.
These sounds are but a flutter,
Drift afloat like flies of butter.
In your stomach, there they'll stay,
Away away, these dreams at bay.
My love is all that you will hold,
And I'll keep quiet the things you told.
Wishing, thinking, hoping, breathing,
With you, all these are worth repeating.
Hold my hand, squeeze tightly now,
I'll kiss you soundly there somehow.
Hold me tight, regret release,
My sadness all the least of these.
Beating hearts and chesire smiles,
Wishing I could stay a while.
All of this and so much more,
Waiting now for what's in store.
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 28, 2010 at 8:50 PM UTC
anguish (as a species)
is a most fearsome animal
came to visit my abode
it is bigger than life and
at once too vibrant and too shrouded to define edges
save the glittering Chesire rictus that splits its skull
like broken mirrors
reflecting original sin as if you were the author
it characteristically blinds its victim
before inserting a single spine into the cardiac muscle
paralyzing both beat and brain
you may open your eyes once
(it will allow you that)
before the end
so you may appraise its shark-like maw
jaw dislocating wide wide wide
to afford room for your entirety
when it closes,
it is not like going to sleep.
it is no gentle light.
a worser fate, it lets you live
in the acid of its belly
peeling away your skin
pickling your eyes
until from yourself you can draw a sword
tear from the taut and distended skin of malice
and ******* forgive yourself.
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 10:32 AM UTC
she glances in mirrors
a geometric façade hems her shoulders to her ribs
the moon bleeds white in phases
crescent makes for the chesire cat smile, she sleeps to the silent sounds of it
gibbous, waning, waxing
all hallowed to the eclipsing snowy veil of it
she passes the reflection of her own skin
the light in the night shows it for her
-cj
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
It's like sitting on your porch on a beautiful day,
The sun bursts through the sky,
Its glorious rays caressing every inch of my skin,
Sunlight dances through my hair and across my face
Tweaks each side of mouth into a Chesire grin.
As the warmth swirls and leaps within it
Sweeps away the withering buds, the dead flowers,
And scatters hope and joy in their place.
But then the darkness sets in,
Clouds roll in thundering, screaming,
They shroud the happiness and bleed it dry,
What was blossoming gasps and shrieks to
Nothingness.
The darkness makes your front porch seem so distant,
I'm alone
In this darkness
As ice dances unruly upon my skin
And frost seizes my mind.
The sun is consumed, its golden aura
Cannot break through
The clouds are too thick, too dark,
It's gone
And all I can do
Is pray.
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
A girl from Chesire
Who looks pretty
I can see kindness in her eyes
She's got long black hair
Lips are carved like a berry
Looks like she was an angel
Who has lost her path to heaven
I need to talk with her
But hesitant to do so
Something is stopping from inside
Had to find a way to start my step
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
My soul is tired but you can't see it
Cause I mask that **** with a chesire cat grin
So you think I'm on fire
When I'm actually sinking
Your soul is wide awake and I can see it
I can see you shining from a mile away
It's in the way you dance to music that no one else can hear
It's in the way you seize the moment before it disappears
Or the way you embrace monumental change
My soul is tired but you're keeping it awake
Jul 5, 2021
Jul 5, 2021 at 1:25 AM UTC
Dumpster diver, high school dropout,
Aquainted with the voices in his head,
Far be it the best conversations had,
Takes tea with queens, chesire.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 11:47 AM UTC
*The moon wears a Cheshire grin tonight
Beckoning me down the rabbit hole
Her pull on me strong as the ocean's tide
I cannot help but go
I jump freely into the abyss
Looking only down, never right or left
I do not need to see what passes by
The words I hear, for I am not deaf
As I fall whispers caress my mind
Spoken words of love, longing, and lust
They are the things I must learn
For to court the dark side I must
The fall has ended, my feet firmly on the ground
There is no light here, all grey and gloom
But in the distance I do see a glow
Here from the dark side of the moon
First I must court the dark side
Attempt to help it find the light
All of this stemming from
The moon's Cheshire pull of the night*
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 12:13 AM UTC
I sail down the stream of consciousness, aimlessly, while the moon's chesire grin lights my way.Crickets serenade each other.The wind ruffles the leaves with a rythmic and harmonious beat. I find myself chuckling as those standing at the shore yell at me, "your going the wrong way." Their faces are weathered by the daily storms of petty concerns. How can they tell me the way to go when they rufuse to get wet?
Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC