Best Alice Poems
~Alice Sweet Alice~
*Like Sisters*
Everyday -- Holding Hands
Sunday Dress -- Pink Ribbons
*Alice And I*
How can they say she did not exist?
This Sweet Girl I Named Alice
The way she looks at me
-Her eyes tender green
A body figure I can't describe
Together we played hide and seek
We swung in ways no one could see
This girl with pretty red curls
Who enjoys the sound of pouring rain?
Together we slept under the same breeze
We carved our names on the same tree
Side by Side it Read Alice & I!
She whispered the day I fell off my bike
Alice Sweet Alice loves the way I look in red!
Every day I face the mirror
Alice puts her left hand on my right
We share the same identical scars,
Under the right and left palm.
The way she held my hand
Healed the scrapes in every fall
Beating from the bullies, she screams!
Again, Alice, whispers--- "Kill Them All!"
No one ever said a word,
When she stood by my side
Alice knew me in ways no one else did
She knew my eyes -When they cried!
Now I can't sleep,
Since Alice has fallen back into the abyss
Forever conscious in a self-hug
--- This is no dream, it is real!
The rage inside burns.
It took place the day she left!
Burning curtains
Empty mirrors
This Girl Named Alice spoke of darkness,
then disappeared
When I hear the sound of pouring rain
I stare at the shadows on the wall
Nothing feels the same,
I allow myself to soak in the darkness where it began.
My hair of red is not the same
These cuts are all that remain
The only clue in which Alice, was here!
Holding on to a stainless blade, I sleep
ALICE SWEET ALICE!
Please call my name!
Why do they whisper?
Why are they saying she never held a breath?
I know she is real, she exists
Why else would I let her cut my wrist?
This Sweet Girl
"I YELL FOR ALICE!"
Finally, visits again ---
But, who is to believe?
For everyone says
Alice lives inside my head.
By:)
With enlightenment, not inhalation,
drawn from Jefferson Airplane's (Starship?) 'White Rabbit.'
(written by Grace Slick)
A Monotetra ~
Don't be drawn into that fairytale
with the Cheshire Cat's grin and tail
He'll lure you in and leave you frail
To weep and wail To weep and wail
If you're in the Red Queen's palace
Don't sip wine from her gold chalice
Her evil thoughts reek of malice
Go ask Alice Go ask Alice
You look weak, skin sallow and pall
Your White Knight's steed is in a stall
Alice won't save you when you fall
She's ten feet tall She's ten feet tall
Don't chase white rabbits down a hole
Deep descent will devour your soul
It's time to wake and take control
Don't pay the toll Don't pay the toll
I often think
In darker times
It's pointless toil
Creating rhymes
For what do rhymes
Achieve, and such?
Perfection strives
For words to clutch
Some faint idea
Some headlocked chat -
It smiles, then fades
Like Cheshire Cat
Chasing thought
Down rabbit hole
Succeed or fail
No heads will roll
From bitter world
To jammy tart
Where sweetness lives
In printed heart
No grumpy queen
No neckline threats
Beguiling words
This soul begets
Perhaps, in time
Simplistic notion
Can be transformed
With the right potion
Perhaps, if time
Allows, we will
Through heartfelt words
Our dreams fulfill
Now that the wicked witch has left the room….
Alice…in Never, Never Land, with clouded brow, and foggy mind, stares through the looking glass at the flames of autumn falling from the maples trees.
And…as she watches this ballet of little fluttering fairies in flaming gowns of crimson, amber and gold, she REMEMBERS…yes…she REMEMBERS… that world where she once lived.
She remembers a time so long ago… when with unclouded brow… she danced with those flaming fairies and laid down with them when they fell to the ground in the backyard of the house where she once lived with her mother, father, brothers and sisters.
Where are they now, she wonders?
And in that moment….she sees their smiling faces and hears their laughter as the aroma of that magical autumn so long ago, returns obliterating the smell of antiseptic and death.
A smile slowly creeps across her weathered face as she realizes, SHE HAS ESCAPED.
BUT THEN…the door opens………………AND THE SPELL IS BROKEN, for the wicked witch has returned.
TIME FOR YOUR MEDICATION, ALICE…she sweetly croons, as she pulls down the blind.
Author: Elaine George
Written: September 4th, 2014
Once there was a fairy by name Linda “fondly Alice”
Falls down a rabbit hole into a fantasy world pretty nice!
Literary nonsense genre
Influential fantasy genre
Bloody the fairy of my fantasy world “Alice”?
The west winds of springtime
Brought forth April showers
That rained on the pavements
Of Southwick for hours.
It was standing room only
And full to the brim
As people sought shelter
At the old Tabard Inn.
A man with a top hat
Sat staring in space.
There was illness and sadness
Etched deep in his face.
A man with a fob watch
Was seen swapping gold
For a bottle of whisky
Before facing the cold.
A woman sighed deeply
Then laughed with a guest
While sipping tap water
And winning at chess.
There was no chef so no food
Since that dark violent day
When the innkeeper watched him
Being stretchered away.
So the sailor (being followed)
Missed having his tea,
And drank five pints of real ale
Before leaving for sea.
there’s a halo hanging from her head everyone agrees~je t'adore
sublime sneaky snake come slither by~who directs traffic in the grass
pal owl perched on glove~wise bird see more less spoken hears her muse recite
Ah, Divine influence, it has come to many, so they say,
as to their nameless or named God’s they do pray.
The light came to Carroll, he said he could see,
for raised by a Vicar at Christ church was he.
Dodgson was his surname an apt moniker
for he veers of from his father, made math his liqueur
Lewis was Charles tongue in cheek, he wore hats
and from his birth place, he transformed Cheshire cats.
Lewis Carroll wrote “Alice” sure, he was also Charles Dodgson
but who wrote the marrow, now that’s where the God comes!
Now, many men wrote the Bible or so we surmise
and the pages they garnered came in random sizes.
Yes they picked, they plucked, these men were right scary
and what do you know, left out the Book of Mary!
Now you modern readers just might take a note
the resemblance twixt Alice and Mary's no anecdote.
Dogdson, yes Carroll, knew Mary so it seems
yet, Alice sweet Alice is who came in his dreams.
Carroll clothed Alice and it's no surprise
that in Chapter 3:21, her dress he seeks dried!
For Alice, dear Alice, did not wish to die!
“She would catch a bad cold if she could not get dry.”
Carroll being the kind creator, he would
had the mouse read to Alice the driest of books.
Again and again, his benevolence is shown
when he sends Alice a rabbit to soon lead her home.
So, we are lead on in most delightful detail
to Chapter 4:15 where her flight is curtailed.
As Cain slew Abel, so the Queen beheaded prates.
Yet, she’d no power at all, over bodiless cats!
Now, Chapter 12 is truly my favorite, as you may surmise
Lewis Carroll has dreamed much of caterpillar size..
He dreamed a whole world full of goodness and villainy.
As anyone can see, men will see what they see,
and the Looking Glass has as much meaning to me
as the Bible may have to the Christians, let be.
A poetess named Linda Alice Fowler
Chose the spirit animal owl for her
avatar and muse, and who
doesn’t worry ‘bout bird flu
with all her power, no not this prowler
True to herself and has keen intuition
If she appears in your dreams, pay her attention
It’s well-known symbolism
Embrace change with optimism
Owls can appear as protector’s or an omen
A night owl stays up and writes poetry
Makes POTD, and a great contest entry
Rotates neck to such degrees!
Linda Blairs? Nothing like these
An owl's genius, beyond elementary
Linda’s wise and so clever in her flight
The talent to guide others to the light
A unique voice, she toots
Her and I, we’re in cahoots!
You won’t see her on your way, she’s out of sight!
An owl can rotate there head up to 270 degrees.
She finds the pink planet, musing Alice Liddell's Imagination is the only weapon in war with reality. Sky's canvas, brushed cotton candy clouds where marshmallow mountains peak and the seventh sun rides low 'til the man in the moon awakens. White light and red, filters a pink-tint, nebulous fringed rose gold. Pearlescent beams lap at her legs, silhouettes blossom as silky waves of jasmine kiss, spiral, and envelop her
open-mindness to
embrace the unexpected
Alice would be proud
realization pink planet
a bountiful life journey
Cuts and bruises
Stabs and burns
Chained up and tied down
The things I want to do to you
When I see you I know I’m wrong
But I can’t help doing you bad
Still you love this love that hurts
Because you keep coming back
More pain, you want to feel the pain
And I know that you know that
Our feelings are born differently
You want to heal my deep wounds
By loving me so to speak ‘unconditionally’
Your reasons I admit to be noble
But you will still get hurt
Because that is how I know love
Twisted past of bad love and bad blood
My sweet Alice, go back to where you came from
You and I are beings from distant worlds
I’m already too deep in and so beyond saving
Road of thorns and spikes, my wounded path
Doesn’t need to be yours even if at some point they crossed
Love is love, but not all love is worth following the journey
And Alice I refuse to believe my kind of love is your destiny
But I can’t let go and I swear to chase you down if you leave
Even so you should run, run like Alice in Wonderland
Try to leave the maze of my arms
And I hope you find your way out
Give up on me, don’t give up on you
It’s not easy doing the right thing even for love
Torn between my selfishness and good intentions
Alice, my savior, my love and my addiction
I know I’ll drive your heart away but you don’t belong in Neverland
My child, a baptism took place when you jumped into the river for my sake—Ringo Bing
Just like her favorite character Alice she dresses
A young girl named Cassy sits bored by a riverbank
She looks into reflecting waters twirling her long tresses
A giant ladybug hanging onto a twig, has fallen and sank
Cassy jumps in, pulls with all her might on its wing
The ladybug's wing tears from all the water it drank
Swept up, she is thrown onto the ladybug with a fling
Flown far from the river, the ladybug thanks her for saving him
I’ll call you my young fair Alice, and you can call me Ringo Bing
Cassy admits to the current identity crisis she is in, one of seven
Ringo struck, by her inability to remember a poem of Alice’s adventures
He offers her a key and whispers, fits a door to the other side, heaven
Blurry swishes of gardens and trees, Ringo lands, fixes his wing and dentures
The door! In a panic realizes the key is lost, the one she’s clung to forever
Wormholes, galaxies, beaming showers, black holes, she now censures
Never needing the key at all the picture is clear, she sees stars of silver
The key a crutch, has held her back from the flow of the river
Amazingly, Alice assaulted an antelope
Because Bobby’s beavers became bold,
Considering cantilevered canines
Deliberately devastating donor’s doled.
Evelyn entirely excited electric eels
Failing forlornly from forward fencing,
Gaining ground gathering genuine gold
Her happiness heralded high financing.
I indicated initially incapable innocents
Justifying joyous juxtaposition jousting
Keeping kind Kenneth’s kindreds knit
Losing language like legally lost lusting.
Maybe minding manners means more
Neither newness nor novel necessary,
Occasionally opening old occlusions
Promises perfectly positioned pituitary.
Quite questionable quicky quirks
Rage rampantly removing regulations,
Summarily startling some supervisors
Touching their tempermental trepidations.
Until unusual undertakings understood
Veritable vigilantes visited volunteers,
Wildly waiting where we wandered
X-citedly X-iting X-istential X-ospheres
Yonder youthful yaks yielded...yikes!
Zebras zigzagged zestfully ziggurat-likes.
The Red Queen walked to her
And asked: "My lovely little girl,
What made you come again
Into this world of mind whirl
And realm of absurd dream,
The field of nonsense reign?"
And Alice smiled and then replied
"You see that wonder train,
I'd like to get on it
And make a trip across your land
To get to square number eight.
I'm so sorry, I've no time in hand,
I have to hurry and reach the place
Within... I think I'd better say
Six hours or so. The reason is,
My majesty, in fact that day by day
I'm growing older, and pretty soon
I'll reach the age when two famous hearts
Were touched with love to be
The greatest legend in all the parts
Of human world. Of course, you know
The names of lovers who I mean.
And there, on square number eight,
I wish to meet Romeo of my dream.
To be his only beloved
I left my home and through the looking-glass
I went." The Queen took Alice
By her hand and said: "My naive lass,
To be a Juliet you ought to know
One sombre fact - the lovers you're talking of,
They both had to die too young,
'Cause otherwise the most magnificent love
Would gradually have faded and
Become a dull routine, a boring grind.
Remember this: to give a legend
Longlasting future that leaves behind
The other stories of the sort
Two things are needed, the couple's not to split,
Youth and Death, they only
Can make a love an everlasting hit."
“The Big Blues and Baptismal Alice”
In the land of the dirty politician
Steely resolve was borne bidding
farewell to thinly veiled conceit and division
that particular brand of milk had long in the tooth turned sour
in her red-hot mamma kitchen
A racing Greyhound on the Going Nowhere Road
forever chasing the White Rabbit named Godot
counts time from its pocketful of ticking time bomb clocks
watching Pterodactyl hormones fly in formation
eating low lying ducks in a row
while the young Velociraptor sitting in her room drawing blood viper tongue fast,
has gone all Poe
The Greyhound turns tales around
and heads back towards Emerald City
flying fast away from a plague of Bubonic Black Crows
She says adieu to those dealing cards that were never real pretty
sitting at the Tea Party Table pulling Voodoo dreams
out of the Lyrebird’s duplicity
Departure
New journey
Two tokens
One kept aside for the Love
that’s steadfast and outspoken
the other for Bee Queen standing stellar
left-field not broken
The Buzzer claims the Chance Card
and moves way out past “GO”,
The Usurper Spell is now fully broken and blown
There on the open road destiny is cumulus now known
Face turned towards Big Blue Sky and Sunshine
a new life tapestry is sewn
Mystery mist whispering over Mountains of Blue
where angels set secret prayers
on the wings of swans who only speak home truth
soaring high upon Heaven’s stairs
singing loud and clear
new dreams do bloom
through cool clean white cotton clouds
face to the sun
feet on the ground
a new day has arrived
strong magic is found
Black ink words swallowed
charcoal spits out a burnt offering
through bitterful and twisted blisters
A New journey forward -
Home is calling her to the
Forest of the Three Sisters
There ensconced in her bucolic benevolent black heath of a palace
Born again in the Big Blues sings the bushfire burning in Baptismal Alice
(Lovejoy-Burton, August 2018)
"She's Leaving Home" / The Beatles
https://youtu.be/VaBPY78D88g
"Sky Above the Clouds", Georgia O'Keeffe 1962
Influences of Magritte, Bosch
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queen_(chess)