Friday, November 12, 2010

Hao

There are worlds where we dare not tread.
Most of them inside my head.
would you like to, like to climb
the twisting stair the turning stair
I've woven it from what is left of my hair
so come up come up my quiet friend
and find where the rabbit hole begins
I built it in my cellar
and it ends on my roof
come up come up
and I will show you the proof
there is no need to show alarm
to keep your dainty hands aloof
I carry the Queen's own charm
I was once her right arm
So come up come up my small, my dear
bring your fragile eyes and have no fear
there is nothing here too terribly queer
there are worlds where we dare not dread
for they are they are inside our heads
So come and settle come and see
we shall make ourselves some tea
with arsenic biscuits
and words so sharp they cut
if not sheathed in whisper
for sound is it's own wound
wound tight around your neck
tying off your tongue in tight knot
so step in side my parlor dear
and I'll stare inside of you
are you are you up to par
do you have nightmares of me?
Don't be afraid, the light is on
the world has not wobbled yet
but soon the turn is coming
and it would be best to not forget
where to place your hands
and where to choose to stand
so come from the doorway dear
for worse may enter and worse may leave
but time is a careless sieve
grasp the moment while you can
and take a cup of tea
do not be afraid my dear
at least not afraid of me.
For there are worlds inside my head
Where others dare not tread
There is always something worse to dread
But at the least you are not yet dead.

Have a biscuit?

2 comments:

Bill said...

Oh, this is so good!

Mint. said...

I love this! very Alice in Wonderland-esque.