We’re All Mad Here

Chimera Poetry

alice sasha fantom

We’re all mad here
and its quite comfortable really
once you make room for all the voices and sort out
who talks when (wait your turn)
and assign a lookout for the pyromaniac

We’re all mad here
if the fall didn’t kill you then you were meant to be
chasing rabbits with us in the mushroom fields
bring your looking glass with you for the ins and outs of this
strange country are mapped in invisible ink

We’re all mad here
and if the crescent moon slowly turns into a grin
just pretend you haven’t seen its feline transformation
and keep walking

*artwork by sasha fan-tom*

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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