Alice's Annex - Toys In The Attic (NSFW)

[IanEye]

[Mask]

[IanEye]

[compared2what?]

Alice.

By Paul Lawrence Dunbar

Know you, winds that blow your course
Down the verdant valleys,
That somewhere you must, perforce,
Kiss the brow of Alice?
When her gentle face you find,
Kiss it softly, naughty wind.

Roses waving fair and sweet
Thro' the garden alleys,
Grow into a glory meet
For the eye of Alice;
Let the wind your offering bear
Of sweet perfume, faint and rare.

Lily holding crystal dew
In your pure white chalice,
Nature kind hath fashioned you
Like the soul of Alice;
It of purest white is wrought,
Filled with gems of crystal thought.


______________



______________

Sonnet for Alice N.

By Jack Collom

Why & what is sweetness all alone?
Either that or it becomes, alas, fleeting,
Which actually helps, because of rhythm.
& there’s a pale intensity to truth, no matter
How pale it is on the levels we receive on.
I mean, the minute you invent a time interval
The more it seems to “jelly out” the excitation
Of accidents; zum Beispiel, “Saginaw, Michigan.”

After a while, we almost expect him or her
To inveigle us into a cafe without bay-breasted warblers.
It’s almost like we have a streak of orange-smell
Which nobody’ll pay for because they can’t talk to it,
Although that’s probably all wrong, or at least falsified
By its very mention, like gravity. Do you agree?

[annie aronburg]

[brainpanhandler]

[DeltaDawn]

Ha! there's probably a good reason I prefer the slot machines over the card tables? There's just something about Alice & her obvious acid trip, that rings bells.....once again in life....vehemently shaking it off and going on!!

[brainpanhandler]

[justdrew]

[brainpanhandler]

I am the eggman












They are the eggmen








"I don’t know. Something happened. Don’t ask me what. Either I’ve forgotten, blocked it out, or they won’t let me remember. But after a while they weren’t there and I was just lying on the bed, next to Yoko, only I was on the covers.

"And she woke up and looked at me and asked what was wrong. I couldn’t tell her at first. But I had this thing in my hands. They gave it to me.”

“What was it?” Lennon dug into his jeans pocket. “I’ve been carrying it round ever since, wanting to ask somebody the same question. You have it. Maybe you’ll know.”

I took the metal, egg-like object and turned it over in the dim light. It seemed solid and smooth, and I could make out no markings. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Keep it.” John told me. “It’s too weird for me. If it’s my ticket to another planet, I don’t want to go there.”








I am the walrus








The time has come, the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings.

[Maddy]

[brainpanhandler]

[IanEye]

[Maddy]

[barracuda]

Photograph of Beatrice Hatch taken by Lewis Carroll on July 30, 1879, then coloured by Anne Lydia Bond on Carroll's instruction.



Photograph of Evelyn Hatch taken by Lewis Carroll on July 29, 1879, then coloured by Anne Lydia Bond on Carroll's instruction.



Photograph of Evelyn Hatch taken by Lewis Carroll on July 29, 1879, then coloured by Anne Lydia Bond on Carroll's instruction.



Photograph of Annie and Frances Henderson, taken by Lewis Carroll in July of 1879, then coloured by Anne Lydia Bond on Carroll's instruction.