Alice sits and plays with her hair
At the edge of the world she's without a care
Alice, dressed in something other than blue
Perhaps she's happier than you
While she fumbles with ribbons of white
And paints imaginary pictures of delight
Cats inside-out and bloody things
Squashed caterpillars infected with wasps stings
The despair of rabbit, crucified on a clock
The Queen left dead on a chopping block
Yes Alice skips the day away
Insanity is only a conviction if you see the crime
The dazed, distressed, those very first signs
The delicate fall from grace that's a feather in the wind
But its final decent will crack the world with its sin
Little drops of mercury that turn to led
Found in the stomach of a hatter, poisoned and now so dead
Like the rest of Wonderland as it burns in burrows all over the world
Alice's pyromania has the news confused
Don't cross Alice or she'll bring you your death
And their will be no tea party for you before your last breath...
© Richard Withey. All rights reserved.
Dear Donnie Darko,
Are you having fun? Well, did you have fun? Everybody thought you were a little strange but I didn't think so and getting to do bad things to do something good? Cool!
Yeah, I am very nervous at school too so I need a Frank. Then I can go to the school at night and bust the water main and then bury an ax in the top of the head of a bronze statue. How funny is that? And you get to leave them a little note!
Did you care? I think you did. I will work on that, but I sometimes I wonder if you're just in some room playing with a stuffed animal. And do I really want to care?
I still keep trying to get my little bunny rabbit to talk but he hasn't said a word yet.
Did it all go according to plan? Did every single moment have a true purpose? And whose plan was it?
Since he hasn't started talking for the last six months I've been placing my little bunny rabbit in different places in my room every time I leave in hopes that when I come back he will have moved. Nothing so far.
How much of this was all for you? To learn and find your own answers?
Can't wait 'til I'm the one with that stupid evil grin laughing face so tonight I am going to put my little bunny rabbit outside in the yard where I can see him from my window.
See you soon...
A wraith in the moonlight, I silently creep
as tendrils of ground-fog down dark alleys seep.
Avoiding the light, to the shadows I keep;
the city is mine as the innocent sleep.
A pause near the top of a stairway quite steep,
below me a tavern; their whiskey is cheap.
I watch a whore exit and don’t make a peep,
but focus on waiting and timing my leap;
The sins she has sown are now all mine to reap!
My knife does its work, and she falls in a heap.
In life she was garbage; she’s better off dead
and spilling her blood means my demon is fed.
With the utmost of caution I remove her head
And carefully keep her hair out of the red.
Her hands come off next, then the part that I dread;
at seeing her naked, desire has fled.
My knife now cuts south of her belly, instead.
I think of the game--the detectives, I’ve led
a merry old chase. They’ve all stumbled and sped,
yet down my true path, not a one of them treads.
In fact, it feels like the Yard’s finest are blind;
and little do they know together we’ve dined.
Their failures to catch me, in my ear they’ve whined
and my hand, the bulk of their warrants has signed!
The pleasure it brings to me deep in my mind,
of knowing that one of them, one day may find
that with the true monster they have been aligned,
is such that I need to replay and rewind
again and again, as my soul becomes lined
with mind movies of the most delicious kind.
It’s hard holding back my need to celebrate,
and so I remind myself that I must wait.
Arranging the body helps alleviate
the worst of the craving. I anticipate
The horror of the lone police delegate
whose duty will force him to then validate
her name, and the witnesses interrogate.
Who cares? It’s not like these whores venerate
anything but the money. They proliferate
like vermin and misery’s all they create.
The beauty I’ve made from this trash makes me weep;
my blade circles her breasts, this last cut goes deep.
In crimson my messages now can be read,
though “Ripper At Large” is all papers have said.
To this horrid name I have become resigned;
My surgical skills? No one yet has opined.
This insult, an attempt to alienate,
is misguided and weak. I’ve discovered of late
I’m cunning and smart and have firmly resolved
these crimes will be now, and forever, unsolved.
(c) 2016 - dustygrein
#nightdwellers #fiend #WorldBookDay
Note: This classical-style poetry form is known as a Pentadecine. It is a rigid 50-line form, using the pattern: aaaaaaaaaa, bbbbbbbbbb, cccccccccc, dddddddddd, aabbccddee. The form is usually written in iambic pentameter, but for this one I chose to use the more melodic, but slightly longer eleven syllable cadence of amphibrachic tetrameter catalectic. If you aren't familiar with the cadence, think of the children's game, Red Rover.
A letter to Hitler
You intrigue me in the worst of ways. I do not condone what you do, what you've done. But I need to know, I need to get inside your head. Everyone just talks about how evil you are but I see the man behind that face. I see who you truly are. What was your mother like when you were young? Is it nature or is it nurture that creates monsters? Did you truly believe what you were doing was for the greater good in your own messed up way? I believe deep down you really thought you were saving the world. Saving the world with destruction but saving it. This fascination, this obsession I have with the bad guys I just cant shake. Maybe because no matter who or what you are I see a five year old version of ones self and I wonder how you got there. How you turned into the monster you once feared. Not many people know that most of your actions were fueled by religion. Many historians believe religion was just a mask, an excuse to take over the world. But I just do not believe that. I would never condone what you've done, I could never bring back the lives you've taken. But you were seriously the most intelligent man on earth. You were the closest ruler to find the ark of the coven in all of history. You took every religious artifact from every country and put them together believing it would give you power. You were the only man on earth able to manipulate a whole entire nation into self destruction. I mean you have Jim Jones who was able to convince hundreds of people to commit suicide but a whole country, you convinced a whole country to wipe out a percentage of the world. Yeah, we have America where the media controls most people's thoughts, where one president can cause a civil war. But that civil war shows our independence. A civil war shows that some of us can think for ourselves. Germany honestly believed that consecrations camps were actually work camps, that they were actually helping the Jewish and the rest of the world. They savored every word you said. How does one man do that? You weren't their dictator. They voted for you. It was respect not fear. That's genius! I just want to get inside your head. I just want to know everything about you. You my all time favorite in history. Is that sinister?