Pieced Together From Shreds
You say you don't understand,
What it is I am trying to convey?
And you read again and again...
Still not comprehending?
In a way you think,
What I've said should be understood...
For a quick dot connection,
To determine if it's bad or good!
To digest after reading?
For an analyst it...
Or I may be needing.
But I like the thought of bleeding...
A multiple meaning instead.
I love it when that double entendre is done!
And whatever I have said,
Gets to be a memory in one's head!
I'm not going to make an interpretation easy.
Especially after I have to sit and wonder...
What is 'it' that I mean?
And if I've said anything,
I may later dread.
This 'Rubik's Cube' of teasing thoughts...
Would be more acceptable,
If presented to readers...
Pieced together from shreds!
Maybe I should introduce,
A variety of colors one could use?
'Blue' would be confusion.
'Yellow'?
Too far off track to get!
'White'?
Neither one of us are right!
And 'red'?
Something has been fed...
That can put this 'mess' to bed!
Inspired by:
Alice Anne Gordon
Scotland/United Kingdom
'Thank you, Alice.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
To My Godchild Alice
ALICE, Alice, little Alice,
My new-christened baby Alice,
Can there ever rhymes be found
To express my wishes for thee
In a silvery flowing, worthy
Of that silvery sound?
Bonnie Alice, Lady Alice,
Sure, this sweetest name must be
A true omen to thee, Alice,
Of a life's long melody.
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou prove a golden chalice,
Filled with holiness like wine:
With rich blessings running o'er
Yet replenished evermore
From a fount divine:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this future comes to thee,
In thy young life's brimming chalice
Keep some drops of balm for me!
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
Mayst thou grow a goodly palace,
Fitly framed from roof to floors,
Pure unto the inmost centre,
While high thoughts like angels enter
At the open doors:
Alice, Alice, little Alice,
When this beauteous sight I see,
In thy woman-heart's wide palace
Keep one nook of love for me.
Alice, Alice, little Alice,--
Sure the verse halts out of malice
To the thoughts it feebly bears,
And thy name's soft echoes, ranging
From quaint rhyme to rhyme, are changing
Into silent prayers.
God be with thee, little Alice,
Of His bounteousness may He
Fill the chalice, build the palace,
Here, unto eternity!
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Buzz The Fuzz
Once there was a fellow and his name was buzz
He was just a rookie cop, just a baby buzz
He patroled the sunset strip in the land of the free and the home of the hip
He protected you and me from evil women like poor alice d
Alice was the girl that all the hippies dread
And they called her sweet alice the head
Alice it was plain to see, was full of pot and std
Shed attract a great big crowd, because her inner piece was much too loud
Good buzz did the thing that all the good buzz must
Stuck his gun in alices back and said this is a buzz
Shone the flashlight in her eyes, she began to hypnotise
Buzz said what a wild sensation, guess this must be hallucination
Love is so sensational, when you fall in love with eyes dilational
Now theyre taking pills in shops, buzz is not afraid of what
Buzz and alice d have shown the way of where the buzz might be some day
Buzz is still a cop of course, hes the pusher on the porch
Hes protecting you and me from evil women like poor alice d
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cube can seem alive as it heats up in your hand. The fact that each face of the Cube is made of three layers of three blocks has an important meaning.
quote by Erno Rubik
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2010/01/10 Innovative And New
Started running since Friday, running from knowing
by reading Seth, several lives running concurrently
for many entities, aspects of soul
Running from knowing on Monday this week I am
back at work, a good place to be, given my col-
leagues, a nightmare of course
Given the way it is run by Human Resources trying
to force us to give account of every breath we take,
every gesture we make
Every thought that crosses our mind, for some it is
a piece of cake, for others, like me, the most scary
idea in the Multiverse, my thoughts
Need to be free, how would progress have taken
place if everybody where under the edict to think
the acceptable thought
Never thinking of the unexpected, the innovative
and new?
poem by Margaret Alice
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Fixed Within It and Will Not Leave
The thought of it is easy to read.
That is the intent.
As if it had been concieved.
And for you meant,
To exist and breathe.
Had it not been composed...
None of it you would believe.
And that is why each word of this...
Has been selected,
For you to digest.
Think about it and re-read!
And while you are doing that...
Think of it as something you thought easy,
To read.
Then think of it as something nonexisting.
You can't can you.
Because this was given life to breathe.
And each time it is read...
It is in your head!
Fixed within it and will not leave!
And your thought of it at first was easy.
Why should that be?
When I took my time to insure you'd be pleased.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Choose Your Color
I will paint the walls blue
Blue is calm, blue is power
Blue is the color of tranquility
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the ceiling green
Green is healthy, green is peace
Green makes time move faster
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the floor red
Red is fire, red is danger
Red is the symbol of passion
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the sky purple
Purple is sad, purple is gloomy
Purple is the color of romance
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the tree black
Black is fear, black is death
Black is the symbol of grief
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the street yellow
Yellow is happy, yellow is fresh
Yellow is the color of sunshine
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint the fence orange
orange is wisdom, orange is wealth
Orange is the color of success
Do you see my colors yet?
I will paint everything white
White is good, white is pure
White is the color of faith
Have you seen my colors yet?
(August 16th,2006)
poem by Christopher G. Turner
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It's All Understood
Everyone laughed at her joke
As if they'd never even heard it before
And maybe they were truly amused
But every word that she spoke was a bore
And maybe it's because they had seen
The previews on the TV screen
Well this part is good and that's well understood
So you should laugh if you know what I mean
But it's all relative
Even if you don't understand
Well it's all understood
Especially when you don't understand
Then it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
Everyone knows what went down
Because the news was spread all over town
And fact is only what you believe
And fact and fiction work as a team
It's almost always fiction in the end
That content begins to bend
When context is never the same
And it's all relative
Even if we don't understand
And it's all understood
Especially when we don't understand
Then it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
I was reading a book
Or maybe it was a magazine
Suggestions on where to place faith
Suggestions on what to believe
But I read somewhere
That you've got to beware
You can't believe anything you read
But the good Book is good
And it's all understood
So don't even question
If you know what I mean
But it's all relative
Even if you don't understand
Well it's all understood
Especially when you don't understand
And it's all just because
Even if we don't understand
Then lets all just believe
But there you go once again
You missed the point and then you point
Your fingers at me
And say that I said not to believe
I believe
I guess
I guess it's all relative
song performed by by Jack Johnson from Brushfire Fairytales
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Double-Crossing-Alice Event
I'm bored, thought Alice distraught,
read about the Implementation of a
Doha Declaration - I shouted Aloha
they say in Hawaii; I saw the TRIPS
Agreement, real acronym paradise-
from this moment my slogan shall be
IFDATPA: I Fiercely Dislike All These
Proliferating Acronyms
But her conscience, a venomous con-
coction of angry voices, counteracted
this planned sacrilege with a series of
logical arguments and she decided to
get her mind exorcised to get rid of the
fun-killers in her head so she can have
her own life without voices spoiling
everything she dreams of
Then the little Alien in her head woke up
after being drugged by Lyrica and said:
You may be old in years, but your mind
is young, let's go out for fun in the sun -
if you stay here I shall dream up a spy
with a gun coming into the office, you
clobber him with the useless footrest;
he hitting back with the coat rack
No sensible and conscientious work
will be done until I have tasted free-
dom, sang a song and smelled the
roses; There are no roses in August,
Alice triumphantly replied - the fields
are blackened by fire - you had better
sleep until spring otherwise someone
will try to exorcise you from my mind
Goodbye, rest well, you mischievous
little devil, let me work on Club Latin
Quartier's letter without excitement
and dreams interfering - BUT it was
too late - the little Alien took charge
of the controls in her head and she
could no longer understand a bit
of the document on her desk
There goes my life, Alice cried as
the little Alien went off in search of
a better world than this one, a re-
turn to Wonderland is at hand;
sang the naughty little Alien,
pleased with this double-
crossing-Alice event…
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Hallucination (Revised)
Reading ‘I Shall Wear Midnight' I whirl,
hallucinating my own making, becoming
my own protagonist, everyone becomes
Wintersmith turning into eyeless men
stalking everything good
Prosecuted not knowing how darkness
would lift, Wizard Eskarina entered so
Tiffany could understand, she must
dance again; forces unleashed solving
enduring winter by giving a death-
dealing kiss to the snow spirit
Everywhere it threatens goodness; evil
of hatred created slain ages ago by witch-
hunting victim's frenzy of misguided zeal -
all social comment based on reality, a
Dark Ages Spanish Inquisition when the
religion of Om, the one god, misused
To suppress and subdue, the Age of Reason
yet to come to require use of verifiable
sensory evidence to determine meaning of
guilt and secure freedom for the innocent -
I had to stop reading, too much meaning,
overwhelming emotion and feeling
'I Shall Wear Midnight' - Terry Pratchett
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Twisted
My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
The way he described it
He said Id be better dead than live
I didnt listen to his jive
I knew all along
That he was all wrong
And I knew that he thought
I was crazy but Im not
Oh no
My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
He said Id need treatment
But Im not that easily led
He said I was the type
That was most inclined
When out of his sight
To be out of my mind
And he thought I was nuts
No more ifs or ands or buts
They say as a child
I appeared a little bit wild
With all my crazy ideas
But I knew what was happening
I knew I was a genius...
Whats so strange when you know
That youre a wizard at three
I knew that this was meant to be
Now I heard little children
Were supposed to sleep tight
Thats why I got into the vodka one night
My parents got frantic
Didnt know what to do
But I saw some crazy scenes
Before I came to
Now do you think I was crazy
I may have been only three
But I was swinging
They all laugh at angry young men
They all laugh at edison
And also at einstein
So why should I feel sorry
If they just couldnt understand
The idiomatic logic
That went on in my head
I had a brain
It was insane
Oh they used to laugh at me
When I refused to ride
On all those double decker buses
All because there was no driver on the top
My analyst told me
That I was right out of my head
But I said dear doctor
I think that its you instead
Because I have got a thing
Thats unique and new
To prove it Ill have
The last laugh on you
cause instead of one head
I got two
And you know two heads are better than one.
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Colors Of The Rainbow
Rainbow colors make
me feel so happy
It reminds me of good
things that happened
in the past
The colors of the rainbow
are colors that are
marvelous
Red, Orange, Yellow, Green
Blue, Indigo and Violet
Are the beautiful colors
of the rainbow
These colors are the
good nice colors
The rainbow colors
come into the sky
after it rains
The colors are something
that when I see I
Remember the
Promise that God
did
poem by Noralis Almonte
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A Picture Of Colors
A picture of colors
A purple forest of colors
A balloon of colors
A blue fantasy of colors
This is what our planet should be
A whirlwind of colors
A white world of colors
A resting place of colors
A red hideaway of colors
This is what it should look like
A ‘yes' world of colors
A yellow rainbow of colors
A graced hill of colors
A green meadow of colors
An overflowing basket of colors
An orange bowl of colors
This would be a perfect place
Japanese haiku
Easy, not like Rubik cube
Use words not fingers
haiku by Ken e Hall
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I Wrote A Poem I Did Not Know The Meaning Of
I WROTE A POEM I DID NOT KNOW THE MEANING OF
I wrote a poem I did not know the meaning of-
I understood whatever I understood of it
Was only one of many misunderstandings-
I wondered then whether my Poetry is nonsense-
I know it isn’t because it tells my true feeling.
But this too is perhaps only another interpretation and another misunderstanding-
I write this poem as if I know what it is all about -
But what if it is only my misinterpretation of the real poem
I never could write?
And what if these lines are some deliberate pretentious unnecessary small confusion no one needs,
Even my dream?
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Figures In There Somewhere (Revised)
Came home to a brightly coloured work text
with Edith Piaf's life resounding in my head,
read a Roger Bootle (Fortune magazine) écrit
on PIIGS (probable Euro-split, Portugal,
Ireland, Italy, Greece & Spain) explained
And Edith Piaf's life intervenes, paging too
violently in the magazine, reading a heading
Dad Doesn't Have Hobbies, He Has Passions
Tom Ricketts said; admonished by my love
I rest the magazine, time to get rid of
Edith Piaf's passions in my head, her words
ringing in my ears - what's the use of being
Edith if I cannot do what I want? It may be
why being Margaret Alice fails, I cannot do
what I want, becoming instead
Expert at hiding desire from myself; I shall
never know what I really want except that
music and singing and dancing figures in
there somewhere
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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Stone Statue Alice
Alice something deep
within slowly dies.
Alice so absolutely shattered
perception perceives
silent shaken screams.
But now festering
trace of tragic
malice
in memory
pain haunted
hollow hungry eyes.
Alice coldly coloured grey
vital spark within
suffocates dies.
But Alice
if you dress
with animated energy
life force embracing
this extreme
trauma
will
soul shock
belie.
Alice sighs
such a breath of faith
heart constantly cries
is do or die.
Ripples ripple out
riding rifts
creating love
struck abyss
in retched
forsaken soul.
Sealed not secrets
will not form
putresence
will not
fester
nor destroy.
Lance expunge
putrid
wound.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Buckingham Palace
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
Alice is marrying one of the guard.
"A soldier's life is terrible hard,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We saw a guard in a sentry-box.
"One of the sergeants looks after their socks,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
We looked for the King, but he never came.
"Well, God take care of him, all the same,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
They've great big parties inside the grounds.
"I wouldn't be King for a hundred pounds,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
A face looked out, but it wasn't the King's.
"He's much too busy a-signing things,"
Says Alice.
They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace -
Christopher Robin went down with Alice.
"Do you think the King knows all about me?"
"Sure to, dear, but it's time for tea,"
Says Alice.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Hard Hearted Alice
Life
Coast to coast
White hot as a ghost
When you live
In a countdown
Time
Is free as a jailbird
At least that's what I heard
When you live
In a hideout
Love
Comes cheap at a swapmeet
It all comes so dirt cheap
When you live
In a bedroom
Love
Cuts deep as a razor
But that ain't amazin'
When you live
In a cancer
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah
Mind
Gets scrambled like eggs
Get bruised and erased
When you live
In a brainstorm
Noise
Seems logically right
Ringing ears in the night
When you live
In an airport
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah-ah-ah
Ah
Hard hearted Alice
Is what we want to be
Hard hearted Alice
Is what you want to see
Hard hearted Alice
Is what we want to be
Hard hearted Alice
Is what you want to see
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Experience Of Feeling Thoughts
I’m so lonely, the crocodile said,
last night I read instead of going
to bed, this morning I can only
search for inconclusive
meanings in meditative contemplation;
not in surface conversations, I don’t
want to know How Are You?
rather tell me how you FEEL
to break the stream of morbid thoughts
on existential isolation on a day in
which a haunting melody seems
more real than cold, unsmiling
faces, words as symbols can’t
convey the tactile feel of textures,
nor describe the experience of
feeling thoughts...
poem by Margaret Alice
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A Frostry Night
Mother: Alice, dear, what ails you,
Dazed and white and shaken?
Has the chill night numbed you?
Is it fright you have taken?
Alice: Mother I am very well,
I felt never better;
Mother, do not hold me so,
Let me write my letter.
Mother: Sweet, my dear, what ails you?
Alice: No, but I am well.
The night was cold and frosty,
There's no more to tell.
Mother: Ay, the night was frosty,
Coldly gaped the moon,
Yet the birds seemed twittering
Through green boughs of June.
Soft and thick the snow lay,
Stars danced in the sky.
Not all the lambs of May-day
Skip so bold and high.
Your feet were dancing, Alice,
Seemed to dance on air,
You looked a ghost or angel
In the starlight there.
Your eyes were frosted starlight,
Your heart, fire, and snow.
Who was it said 'I love you?'
Alice: Mother, let me go!
poem by Robert Graves
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