Fairytale truths

The wakened
sight of the
blind burning rigidity
into fluidity
through lucidity of mind.
A made up story
of upon a times,
the damsel,
the Princess,
the Queen and her tarts.
The owl is wise at twilight,
the flea upon a beggar,
the mouse,
he creeps,
he crawls he squeals
yet sees it all.
But alas,
his tail is a noose,
the farmers wife
got loose upon
offer of a truce.
You see,
its all a Grim type tale,
blood and guts,
deceit and glory
just another
virtual story.
Gone now is the hole,
The rabbit and Alice
Dreams have become
pixels,
Princes… Pixels
Kings… Pixels
Promises… Pixelated
fantasies,
Imaginary realities
King Ego ruling the roost
the awakened state
the new fairytale truth.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image found on pinterest

Photo

Mercury encrusted stutter

img_20160609_210902.jpg

Between the seconds,
minutes and hours
times kinetic swing
slows to a
snails pace at twilight,
it is then I know
with a blind man’s
certainty that
I am fallen like
Alice, tumbling
for her fantasies
It’s deep within
my sacral
yet deeper in my soul
I tried to dust you off
smooth away your
scent but only
managed to submerge
myself further
in your essence
Have I told you
of the synchroniscities?
No, of course I haven’t.
The problem with equality
is the dispersal of power,
I’m afraid I wouldn’t
be so pretty with my
soul crushed into
fine powder blowing
in times wind
to desolate islands
of despair.
Isn’t that always
the problem when
you discover you care?
Intrigue gages the
tip toeing of my
splintered thoughts
across creaky floorboards
I am the wisp,
the wisp of chaos,
calm, energy, need and
perhaps love,
I was always afraid
you’d know what to do…
now isn’t that the truth.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

. . . and if raindrops were kisses.

All Alice/karen cox.... Alice in Wonderland

If seconds were miles you’d be only hours from me and kisses would be promises made sealed on lips made of love and eyes spiraling into the oceans depths of always.

If the ocean were only a puddle I’d wait bare foot in warm springs, mist carrying to me your smile on passions embrace our laughter dancing between the falling drops of time.

If time were linear and this dimension melded with another I would hand pick our time lines crossing our paths in ferocious braids, braids braiding into braids.

If loves true divinity is the marking of our spirits chaos, cyclonic
grains of sand will slip through oceans neck into the palms of open hands sealing dreams of old, paving dreams of new.

And if the miles were seconds I’d own your kisses, if the oceans were puddles you’d taste my laughter, if time were linear and dimensions crossed our paths…

But they are… entwined and in moments blessed the miles disperse into split atoms caressing the curve of my hip on your tongue as kisses taste of a love divine…

For our souls know nothing of miles only beats within the chest, fluttering rapidly.
Our souls know nothing of oceans or falling rain just the shared essence of hope. And perhaps deep within our psyche we are learning spiritual truths
on the unseen essence of love.

Karen Hayward ©2017
Image found on Pinterest.

 

Seemingly bottomless.

Art Work of Alice in Wonderland <3 <3

Perhaps the fall is
like Alice’s hole,
seemingly bottomless,
lined with trinklets,
jars of memories, speckled
stars of hope,
freckled fragments of
love.
And storms, of course storms.
Hazardous hailstorms of despair raining down upon
Queen of tarts,
of hearts,
of tarts and hearts
and perhaps the
odd King hiding in the
recesses of time.
Maybe, falling in love is
like the mad Hatters tea party, chipped china,
pretty pastels,
cucumber sandwiches,
forever there, forever gone,
always coming and
never wrong.
For, there is always time for tea, always a tomorrow,
another cup,
good and bad,
It’s a given,
a promise of a brighter
day, a loving embrace within
the sweet liquid nectar.
And yes, there will be
mouldy bread, curdled milk,
Flies of destruction.
There will be sugar
thieves and odd concoctions,
but there will always be
tomorrow,
another tea party.
Yes, perhaps falling
in love is just like
falling into
Alice’s world.

Karen Hayward (c) 2017
Image found on pinterest

Alice, please let me come too.

Oh what beastly demon, biting jaws, catching claws

and flaming eyes hunts upon my sanity.

Alice, take me from this place. Together we can

chase the white rabbit and catch the grains

of yesterdays sand as he hollows into the hole

of his lateness.

Oh please,

Alice,

let me come along.

I shall bring a fan and some gloves and

the white rabbit will be so happy he will pause

and time will monetarily pass us by. Let us

together explore the depths of the endless drop

as reality spirals from us.

Oh Alice,

please,

perhaps the caterpillar upon

his branch can whisper to me the secrets

of transformation and adaptation. Together

we can recite poetic glory from the pages of

greatness.

The smoke will engulf us as

it seeps into our skin.

Let him spite us

with his coldness

 enlighten us with

his wisdom.

Oh please,

Alice,

I can eat

mushrooms and sit

tidily inside your apron.

Please Alice,

for I am lost and I am hopeful.

I must, I must, I really, really must converse

with Cheshire cat.

Let him hear my pleas

so he may guide me through the blade

enriched maze of life and his wisdom

open the locked corridors of my mind.

Let his eyes fall upon

me, Alice, and his grin bless my soul and

lift this heavy cloud from my shoulders.

We must find him

lest he disappears,

leaving

behind only the fading

whisper

of his

lips.

Alice,

wait please,

do not leave me in this dismal

world of harsh realities

and evil intent.

The Hatter,

will perhaps find an extra chair and together we

drink tea sweetened with cubes of sugar

drank

alongside cake and cucumber sandwiches.

For The Hatter is not all he appears,

he will chortle as he spits

venom from his lips

then quiver before his Queen.

Let me stay near

together we will sit at the

table of the hat maker,

and watch as mercury

rots his faculties.

Please,

Alice,

together we can defeat her.

Her that rules from her collective

court as she rampages

through the hearts and minds.

She has power

but we have love and kindness.

Her respect is

the favour of self importance,

ours is the journey

of seeing beyond.

Please,

Alice,

take me with you,

let me leave behind

the harshness of reality.

My soul is slowly dying

 my spirit wanes in the tainted

fog of hate dispelled

about my legs.

My body is torn in two my mind ravaged,

please,

let us find the white rabbit.

Together.

Take me

from this reality.

Karen Hayward ©2016