Not this story.

Now I am distilled,
An essence merely to be contained.
Poured into a tiny vial
No larger than a fingertip.
Sealed with scraps of cork and wax.

And this is me.
Relegated to a dusty, insignificant
Place upon a shelf.
There to remain,
Trapped within myself.

And the label,
Now yellowed with age,
Hath spidery writing scrawled,
Barely enough there to see
Words that remain. That say
‘Drink Me’.

Hello Darkness, my old friend

Black is the colour in which stars shine,
And hiding underneath closed eyes,
Black is the colour in which you’ll find
Dreams and Realms Untold reside.
There within the colour of coal,
A canvas for the mind and soul,
A wonderland where you’re made whole.
Not a colour, but a tone,
It’s somewhere safe to call your own,
A place that’s yours,
And yours alone.

Intermission quote..

“The monkeys have run out of chickens to fuck, and that’s why the world is the way it is. . .”.
– Beyond Wonderland.

—-

Poems to resume at some random time in the unforeseable future. Because no one can see the future.
-Alice.

I don’t GO crazy, I AM crazy.
I just go normal from time to time.

Once in a lullaby..

This place is feeling far too much
Like Kansas, or locales with such
Mundane similarities.
Where is Toto when I need him?
Don’t want to be here anymore.
Where’s the Tornado or the Rabbit Hole
I’ve been longing for?

I cannot find my Wonderland,
Went and lost my Yellow Brick Road.
Threw myself into a mirror,
Just to have the glass explode.
Oh Neo! How I took the red pill,
In fact, I took them all.
Ended in the emergency ward,
Not in The Matrix at all.

I don’t want to be here,
For here hurts far too much,
Everything here is destroying me,
And I’m destroying all that I touch.
I long so, to leave this place,
To find somewhere else to go.
There’s this land that I’ve heard of once..
Something about a rainbow..

Of teacups..

My favourite colour is midnight,
Favourite time is soon,
My favourite song not written yet,
Alarm still set for Noon.
I quite like long beaches,
Just not walking along.
The time that I spend showering
Is the length of that favourite song.
I can’t stand cold showers
But love walking in the rain,
If there’s something I’ve never done before,
I’ll go and not do it again.
I’ve never seen a storm in a tea-cup,
Only tea-cups in a storm,
So I make sure to hold all my tea parties
Only when everything’s warm.
I’m party to tea at my tea party,
Where normally normal’s the norm,
And it’s cosier with a tea-cosy
‘Cos cosys keep everything warm,
And as we know about tea-cups,
The warmer ones keep away storms.
So that’s me in a nut-shell,
Where else would any nut be?
Will I live up to the low-down?
You’ll have to keep reading to see.

all I ever do (prose)

‘You’re doing it again, Alice’.
The Caterpillar exhaled swirling purple smoke as he nodded solemnly.

Hi ‘And YOU’RE doing it again, Absolem’, said Alice, distractedly. Her board game, in which she was playing all four of the players, was coming to a critical stage, and she wasn’t entirely sure what any of the others of herself might do next.
‘Doing what?’, asked The Caterpillar, puzzled.

‘Precisely!’ She exclaimed, not entirely certain what her point had been, but quite confident she had scored on that round.

Absolem just puffed silently on his hookah, staring at her.

Alice concentrated fiercely on her game. However, she was so determined on ignoring him that she did nothing but ignore him, and consequently lost all track of her game.
Eventually the suspense became too great, and she threw down the pieces in exasperation.

‘Fine!’, she snapped , ‘what am I doing, apparently so amazingly well, that I don’t know I’m even doing It!?’

‘There’s much you can offer the world.’
Absolem was frustrated, and beginning to grow angry.
‘You have gifts, Alice, and you’re just….’
He paused, searching for the right words.

‘Fucking things up?’.
Her eyes watered and she rubbed at them angrily.

‘YES!’, snapped Absolem, his temper breaking.

‘Well I thought you would have expected it by now. Because I do that, you know….It’s..’
Alice’s voice finally cracked, and hot tears rolled down her cheek.
‘…It’s all I ever do’.

WonderlessLand

I’m not often given to crying,
I bear my grief stillborn inside.
In truth though, I’d be lying,
To lay claim to emotionless pride.
The genesis of these unauthorised tears
Is to look back over my life,
Regretting all of the wasted years
Spent fighting with fictional chemical fears.
Not the existence I once had planned,
Trapped the entire time,
In a fake and broken Wonderland
Within my troubled mind.

therapy.. (prose)

‘Well you see, Sir.’
Alice began hesitantly.
‘I needed to speak to someone, about..Oh, a great many things!
I considered everyone I knew, and how they might be able to help me, and in the end, I believe you are certainly the right person for the job,
especially considering your enormous expertise in helping many troubled souls through difficult times’.

Alice paused, and looked over to see how her speech had been received.
The scruffy old teddy bear stared silently through its one remaining eye.

‘I see’. She said thoughtfully. ‘I guess you couldn’t relate as much in any case, what with client… congenitality.. ..confence-idality.. ..that thing.., anyhow’.

She shifted on her chair nervously for many long moments, waiting, under the relentless stare of the black, bleak eye.
‘Alright!’, she finally shrieked, the teacup and plate going over her head, destined to land in locations unknown.
‘I stole the tarts!.’

The bear remained silent. After several long moments, in which, quite distinctly, nothing happened, Alice recomposed herself with as much dignity as she could muster, cleared her throat, and returned her attention to the bear.

She finally confided, ‘Though whatever I’m to do now, without any expert advice, I really don’t know! You were my last and only hope!’

A quiet voice came from down near her elbow.
‘No. There is another..’
Alice looked down to see DorMouse standing beside her.
‘Don’t you start’.
But she smiled anyway.

Perfectly Clear (prose)

‘It isn’t so much as what it never was’, said Alice, awkwardly attempting to adopt a stance and tone of voice approximating what she imagined a university professor might assume, ‘but rather, what it wasn’t ever in the first place’.

She paused, trying to follow her own thoughts.

‘For example’, she attempted to clarify.

‘If you break this tea cup..’

She picked up the nearby object and dropped it to the ground, adding a small flourish for effect, but it merely bounced, several times, then rolled to a stop, defiantly intact.
She glared at the offender, then stomped on it furiously until it was only small pieces.
“Like so..”, She announced.

‘You not only destroy the many cups of tea it might have been, but also the many cups of tea it never was.’

‘Aren’t those the same thing?’, asked the Dormouse, who was the only one really paying attention.

Alice frowned, not entirely certain, but unwilling to appear wrong at this point, drew herself up importantly.

‘Decidedly not!’ She declared.

drat and bother

I can’t say that I feel lost,
For as the Cheshire Cat would know,
That would all depend on where I wanted to go.

Seeing how I don’t,
We could always ask The Hatter,
Because if I am truly lost, the answer doesn’t matter.

As long as there is cake,
Because we’re all mad here.