an alice-worth of tears



I have 79 drafts in my dashboard. I have very full email inboxes too. Delete doesn’t seem to be in my vocabulary.

The oldest is from spring of 2010, the most recent, fall of 2015. Many are duplicates. Some are barely composed. Others remain too personal, or problematic to post. A few wave at me from time to time; stories still waiting to be told. The next chapter in a character’s life. A late submission worth revisiting. Material left to mine. And that’s only what is on the dashboard. There are stuffed virtual and real file folders, journals, scraps of paper, half-completed novelettes, stories only existing in the archives of my mind.

First is a raw poem. Never edited. When it sparked a blog post on mental health, the title was “an alice-worth of tears.” I never published the poem and post. A month later, I cut the essay to use it for a now extinct prompt writing blog. The word prompt was tomorrow; the poem became “tomorrow’s tears.” Neither time did I click publish.

an alice-worth of tears (May 12, 2015)

if i cried an alice-worth ocean of tears
would that be enough
a billion, a trillion, a zillion
drops of pain
how many tears do
you want me to cry
before you say enough
red eyes will
be brown again
tear-grooved cheeks
smooth again
just a dream you
there are never to many tears
for you
think of all left unfallen

© phylor (tale weaver/ing) 2015

Next are un-re (if ever) edited selections from an old poetry journal (circa 1972-1982) rediscovered in 2010. Similar thematics and schematics still race through my mind.

Simple (1980)

you took my hand to show

full moon in day sky

ballet of coloured leaves

patterns of street lamps

and ducks in the park

but I had to teach you

how to dance in the rain.


fragments 3 (love) (1979)


you held my

fragile smile

in the palm

of your hand


Fragments 6 (love) (1981)

I caress your indifference

and cry when I think

of you spending your passion

like so much loose change.


winter (circa 1974)


incased with


like butterflies

in cocoons

© women in fur coats don’t cry/tales of the wharf child 1970-2015



5 thoughts on “an alice-worth of tears

  1. Suzanne November 24, 2015 / 6:12 am

    Your words are powerful. I love the imagery in the last one. Today I’ve been reading over fragments of stories I’ve written too. Mine are published on my blog but are buried in the depths somewhere. I was thinking of publishing them as an ebook but when I read over them I decided they are really just stepping stones to where I am now. Most of them don’t need to be aired again. Blogging them helps keep the flow going though.


    • phylor November 24, 2015 / 9:54 am

      That’s an interesting observation about stepping stones, fragments and flow.
      When I rediscovered my book, I was surprised how “now” many of poems felt, as if emotions transported forward 40 years with very slow evolution.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. J Lapis November 24, 2015 / 4:46 am

    I may have missed the “alice” connection/reference, but I DO love that for a title! Your words are such heart-grabbers…”we” like that!! :) I would find that many “drafts” too overwhelming–if I get ten even, I have anxiety and wonder if I couldn’t just delete…or quit blogging till I feel my creative-self again.


    • phylor November 24, 2015 / 9:55 am

      Alice is Alice in Wonderland — when she cries as a 10 footer, her pool of tears becomes an ocean when she shrinks. I go in an out of wonderland for imagery.


      • J Lapis November 24, 2015 / 10:09 am

        Oh of course, I should have guessed that right off…my mind feels muffled by clouds sometimes! I love that you use wonderland imagery, truly :)


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