A Wonderland with Pain. Part III

This doesn’t make sense

The leafs laugh at passing people
The grinning cat captures them in
A picture or two – wondering who
Is being restrained with paint,
We walk on, but not for long
Since there, amidst your floating
Thoughts, are drifting shifting gifts
Not being able to jump and catch
Alas, you might make a mismatch
So we need to abide time, I guess
Disarray in the minds of supreme
Experts – maybe a dessert will do
Eating cookies, I am still able to

– K.J.E., Summer 2011

A Wonderland with Pain. Part II

Fata Morgana

Within the territory of Morgan le Fay

Arise the dangerous misdirected signs

That purposefully leads lads astray

Walking along new predestined lines

Of a bad bachelors novel’s power play

The fairytale mind, nullifying quite fine

In magic castles with antithetical design

And yes, that is life, miss theoretically refined

The Bell of the Past

(My final short story for my Creative Writing course of last semester)

“Always be a poet, even in prose.” Charles Baudelaire

Maybe she ought to have been happy with Hitler’s regime, Rosemary’s thoughts twisted.  For wasn’t it thanks to him that she had met the love of her life? But then, wasn’t it also thanks to him that she had lost him? Rosemary tightened her fingers around the glass. Should she be happy to have known him or should she be angry to have lost him? In the past, these questions had swerved around her mind like fish lost in the endless sea. She had tried to stretch the limbs of her mind, trying to reach and grab the notions of explicable nature. The paper underneath her poems had been her sidekick. Everything from dreams to troubles were subjugated by pen. She had been one of the few lucky people alive to make a living by writing and performing her poetry. Unfortunately over the years, old age had caused her to stop pondering. It needed her to save the last of her life energy to live. Her writing had turned into sporadic twists and outbursts. Not today though. Today was different. Today, back in her hometown, it was like her past was suddenly the present again.

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