Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Monacle

I present this obelisk, to you my dearest Beatrice.
For reasons of the ancient magi, this stone is quite the queerest.
It's said in hours of the lich, it speaks as well as quivers.
And if you were to pass it by, the icons would stand hither.

Oh dearest sister of my life please take this stone from me.
I know from I was baptized into the endless dream.

Oh Beatrice you musn't stare, into the eye utop the flare.
For if you do you mind would see, machines caught in biology.

Destroy it fast or protect the sighs, for this is where the devil lies.
And dearie dearie the pretense errie I must convey a social query.
If you keep this thing of pain, this lashing error fixed for slain,
You may encounter the King of Kings, his name is Christ, he is all things.


III

Drunk Monk

Eli oh Eli saint of the skies, endless is the way of life,
ending ought the lie.
Spoken of a cherry tree tought above the hills,
A whitch house harbors nightly screams,
as well as deathly chills.

***

No Hatter

"No madness here" said the hatter to the hare,
"How true for you" said the mouse to the shoe.
"I'm late" said the rabbit who passed on some tea,
"Your mad!" cried poor Alice as she walked on by me.

@#^$III$^#@