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Alexander Hayward Poem
It’s okay to be nervous
But there’s no need to fight
When colors flow inside of shapes
You have taken flight
Directions will be pointed
But you’re flying much too high
Caterpillars may inhale smoke
But eat plants to Butterfly
Put that in your pocket
It’s still too soon to see
Calm child, your only worry now
Is how to Drink More Tea
It is the glue that binds us all
Like a Milky Way of toads
Not all venoms taste so sweet
Not all Big Bangs explode
For this place holds a balance
Despite its ever scattering mess
The brightest stars super nova
Within their ego deaths
The implosion of undertow left
Is so dense that it is black
Inside of it light cannot escape
And that’s your beacon back
Now we’ve reached a point
And would you look at that
You’re looking more and more like me
And I a Cheshire Cat
You’re getting so much bigger
And the hang of this place
You’ve eaten the right mushroom pieces
And now you want to race
But before you venture off
And go be on your own
I must forewarn not all that live here
Want this fabric sewn
See while this place’s purpose
Remains to figure out one’s toll
There exist a house of cards
That aims to take control
And if they knew the things I’ve told you
Already I’d be dead
I can still hear the shriek of her voice
Screaming “Off with his head!”
They torture us inside the courtyard
For being who we are
For contemplating philosophy
And expanding minds too far
They’ve found a way to take our treats
And replace them with their tarts
They are boy and girl, but not like us...
The king and queen of hearts
The famous duo and powerful friends
Only want control
You’ll find them at the very bottom
Where demons infect your soul
See, the tarts they manufacture
Once you try you cannot stop
White coated hares recommend them
While their masters sit on top
Once you’ve tasted just a few
For an even smaller amount of time
You can no longer live without them
No matter how many times you try
And once you’re on their hooks
They take away your life
Drug to the courtyard to be judged
More pain, agony, and strife
But it’s at this point you should realize
Before you hear her shout
That I warned you of all this
And have told you the way out
Just reach deep in your pocket
If the situation becomes grotesque
And if you figure it out you’ll know
Why a raven is like a writing desk
Copyright © Alexander Hayward | Year Posted 2019
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Details |
Alexander Hayward Poem
Then one day you ask Alice
And she whispers in your ear
There’s a special place built just for you
To misplace all your pain and fear
There’s a hole unlike any other
Infinitely deep
Some things in there will awaken you
While others makes you sleep
Although the order may appear
Unnatural at first
I assure a little bad is good
But too much good is worst
This place is where the universe’s secrets
Are kept inside a jar
Where atheists can talk to god
If one dare go that far
Where white rabbits turn to dragons
The further you go in
Where small and tall chase them both
Until they’re childlike again
Where fun and games run amok
Alongside magic and alchemy
Brilliance and creativity intertwine
To live in harmony
Where empaths are sympathetic
But carry open arms
Where wants and needs melt away
Replaced with Fabergé charms
The perfect place to self reflect
Travel deep into who you are
A university of self respect
If you can to reach the bar
An outer space inside yourself
Devoid of gravity
Where up is down and left is right
And you eventually becomes me
Where math and physics mean nothing
Except for paper and scales
Anxieties are stripped away
Co-experiencing chasing tales
Where everyone is equal
Ultimate freedoms known
Angelic faces slither toward you
So that you’re never alone
A place where all are welcome
Unlocked doors that always chime
And it can last up to forever
Because you control the time
If you get lost don’t be afraid
Because I got a guy
At first he was a hat maker
Now his parties teach those to fly
If you choose to let him guide you
He’ll take you on a trip
A magical tea he’ll brew for you
So go on and take a sip
You’ll see a closed eyed kumpel
Appearing grateful to be dead
A dormouse leans and whispers
“Go on, feed your head”
Continued... See Part 2.
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/drink_more_tea_-_part_2_1146786
Copyright © Alexander Hayward | Year Posted 2019
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