The Poem sits there
like a caterpillar on an old rail fence
waiting for Alice to burst from the forest
with her hair in disarray
and her dress torn;
on its hind legs
it fears to fall
in the stiff breeze
landing in soft red dirt
where the snakes grieve.
"Down another wretched page,"
the poem sighs.
Reacting in dismay
at what was already
not out loud, of course,
like a train chugging
or a horse's snort
more as a flower
catching just a tuft of breeze.
Between the trees Alice flees
the thorns reaching
for her bleeding knees;
and the Poem seethes
scratching at the ode.
Let the crime recline
against my brawny shoulders
Let Alice bleed,
a sweet taste
the thorns decide
watching Alice run.
The poem is perplexed.
it did not wish to exist
to ravish young maidens
or to think
of breasts like sweet melons.
The Poem expends
satisfied
at the strides it's made;
like a butterfly-
it begins
and flies away.
Author notes
Written May 3rd, 2006
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Excellent
A very fine write, indeed. You expressed yourself quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us. Again, well done. -
Yes, rather strange, but I did really enjoy it. There are some marvellour ideas in here and you've really explored them well. A very nice write.
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Let Alice bleed,
a sweet taste
the thorns decide
watching Alice run.
thee lines are indeed stunning...the whole poem was great, but those linesjust stood out. I love the imagery here, and the power of this poem
What an unusual thing to write about.
Keep it up! -
This is so amazing and stunning.
This is absolutely beautiful, Very well thought out and polished to high perfection. Brilliant piece my friend! loved the form and flow and the rhythm and rhyme are dead on. Captivating piece from start to finish. Don't put down that pen! I love this so much. Keep up the killer work, take care and good luck.
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Interesting story to it, but I thought it was kinda weird....But that's my personal opinion and I don't typically go for metaphorical poetry...
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this is a nicely "tongue in cheek" write you have written and the ending is as mentioned quite strong I enjoyed the read
love and light
blaze -
This is a really really really good poem! I am amazed by your diction and your style and the way you write is phenomenal. I hope to read some of your other poems as well! I enjoyed reading this poem a lot. You should enter this one into a contest, I have a feeling you would do well.
With love, hope, and encouragement in all that you do
~~~~Misery loves Company ~~~~ -
Very different....however, I do like it.
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very nice poem
really enjoyed it
interesting
keep up the great writting -
Hi, I found this amusing,verey tongue in cheek, I also was amused by de Bracey's remark,lol a very entertaining write, all the best, Di
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very intresting, love your style....lots of imagery defenitly i liked it pretty easy to read but its very..twisted? simple but not..yeah..well its good awesome job!
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very well written, deep in meaning, excellent imagery and use of metaphors. I think it's a beautiful piece though sad. thanks so much for sharing, peace
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tried to clap. wouldn't let me.
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Good
DeBracey's comment made me chortle. I like that word chortle. It's not something one gets to drop into casual conversation, but it is so much more dignified than mere laughter or *shudders* a guffaw.
But, I digress. This poem is totally hip to my jive. I can see all of my poor poems as they are being written saying 'Nonononono...you wretched girl! Do not make me say that.' Rather a miserable existence when you think of it. -
A very interesting theme, ending being the strongest part of this poem. The poem expands like metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a papillon...
Alice has been explored by many writers and critics, even earlier psychoanalysts. You leave a nice playful impression in this...
A good job!
D -
A bird ate the caterpillar I was watching in the window box after the caterpillar ate the nasturtiums. I don't think the caterpillar, the bird or the nasturtiums were too bothered by breasts like sweet melons either. They certainly did not ravish any maidens while I was watching or show any desire to do so.
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maybe it is the caterpillar up on its legs. too. i love when they do that. once, hannah took one on as a "pet" all day she carried it around. on her finger. its name was Hank.
i like this one. playful. -
Wonderland should be the second home of all of us. Variations on the Alice theme are demanded of all who create. I've used it in my art and in my poetry.
This is a path of unexpected surprises, breeze, seethes, knees,flees and even snorting horses yet still I feel Im slipping all the time
down
down
down
just a caterpiller watching the incredible plants your garden grows
D -
I love the horse snorting part. It is nearly backward which is very Wonderlandish but also you can hear it and see it - those specks of snort juice coming out shimmering in the light beam slanting across the stall where he sticks his head out or at the fence, better where he's locked in - out of those huge nostrils. I'm actually a bit afraid of horses. They are so giant. I got bit twice and I was being very nice. German shepherds same thing -- (though only once bit by the dog).
I also like letting the crime recline. It feels like a bridge to reality or something.
This is a reminder of why I became addicted to your poems. It makes me yes, gleeful and is yes, a bit raw at the same time. The Gorgeous Wound.
Though I don't see ignorance - or boredom but I never did believe Alice to be either. More wildly curious and constantly Coming of Age(s). Ennui of the Artist? the Artist should always be "just beginning" and of course straining and mining for steel veins, sigh, but I am usually wrong and its okay because I've made such a lovely habit of it.
"Write more, write more," she says and claps her hands.
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poems sit on ALL the fences these days, beady eyes taunting me. run like the rabbit when I come near. apparently you've developed relationship with the ones in your neck of the woods. I think I'll store this one, it speaks to me.
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Raw Glee
Let Alice be. Let the poem breathes its satisfaction, for it holds the acts of the ignorant and the bored; the innocent and the culprit creating art from blood-tainted agony.
Of course.
Such is life. And fantasy.
And Alice (and Lute) ... is real, not so?
Myra -
I have to return.
Edited on May 04, 1:35 because ''.
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