Tag: alice in wonderland

Poetry

A note from the caterpillar

Post author By K. Samways
Post date November 10, 2025
No Comments on A note from the caterpillar

The caterpillar is nice to visit
            … in a way

He smokes his pipe
and blows his opinions
               in your face
     whether or not you’ve asked for it

But how much more you enjoy Alice
    pretty and naive, a human even
    quiet and observant, stupid even

                    (What would it be like?)

The girl and ‘pillar
     both approach the end of a cycle    transitioning, evolving
     but one appears an ugly ascension
     better left ignored
   the other’s gracelessness is hidden
           within, ignored

I am not Alice, a girl

secretive or demanding
wishing for non-blond understanding
I have never been lured
by a white rabbit or a rabbit hole
afternoon naps are not really my thing
and I’m awakening from my daydreams

I am the caterpillar
         before it’s eaten by the bird
never to say a butterfly word or whisper
no kisses, no gratuity, no drinks
only brief passers pausing
for wisdom, absurd
or for entertainment to enlightenment
as I age to a disgraceful degree, resisting
before acknowledging

I’ll never fly

    I’ll never be seen as

                Alice

the caterpillar says goodbye

Tags absurdity, alice in wonderland, butterfly, canadian poet, Canadian poetry, caterpillar, creative writing, cycles, human being, lament, motif, poem, Poetry, rebirth, samsara, secre lives of insects, wisdom, womanhood

Poetry

The Fairy Tale Dream

Written in 2011

As soon as the words leapt from my mouth like some dancing flame I couldn’t control,

I wanted to scream: I LIED!

But my mouth swallowed my words, and my tongue swelled so I could no longer speak.

I have fallen down some Alice in Wonderland rabbit hole

Caught in between a world I desire which I’ll never have and some stark reality which is playing tricks on me.

How can I be the only one deceived by these mismarked potion bottles?

When I drink the one which says courage, I grow smaller. When I drink the one marked power, I become a pawn.

However, unlike Alice I was not drowning in my own tears. It is not my sorrow I fear, but my words.

And I’m not a dumb blond like Alice, easily confused and fooled by people.

I see that Cheshire cat, always willing to smile at me; I’m never willing to smile back.

(Once upon a time were the words that I spoke.)

I drink tea like the Mad Hatter and I’m wicked like the Queen.

Maybe the best place for me is the Rabbit Hole, where I can pretend it’s all a dream, and soon I’ll wake up on the banks of that flowing river – well-rested with an attitude adjustment, and some new found appreciation like Dorothy after she returns from Oz.

If only lessons were so easily learned as in fairy tales.