You can tell the sex of a preying mantis by counting the plates on its belly. And yeah, the females do get a lot larger. It's to make room for all those eggs, I think.
Mantises are some of the coolest bugs. I caught one once when I was a kid and kept it for a while, and my mom helped by giving me a little chunk of raw hamburger to feed it. I watched it eat the stuff, too. It has to be fresh, though. I think what I like most about them is how they'll turn their head and look over their shoulder at you. I think they're the only insect that can do that.
Sexual cannibalism is not uncommon among spiders and insects. It's been found that the male continues to ejaculate for a longer time without his head. That, and he doesn't change his mind and try to run off to avoid the commitment.
Sack time.
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
First, yes, it is what it is.
*
Yep, agree, preying mantis are fun insects, not much to talk with as they are a bit snobby but to watch they are definitely educational. Last year I watched a racer snake slither up and devour one, the battle was pretty much one sided.
Need an update story Lester on Roadie, piques my writers interest to see you write something about the new addition.
Today of course was as usual, interesting and full of strange shit. Did a job for a man named Steve. After I finished I asked him what he did for a living and he replied, "I sell fossils..." Oh shit, he hooked me with that. Of course I asked, can I see some?
He took me into his shop and wow, talk about cool stuff. He specializes in shark teeth but he had vertebrae, whale teeth to include fossilized sperm whale, bison, horse, it was truly a fun view.
I picked up one that spoke to me and asked what shark it came from as it was huge. He said, "Megaladon."
Told me they grew as big as a bus with jaws wider than five feet and that they lived on eating whales. Showed me a sperm whale tooth and told me he finds whale teeth with shark marks on them.
Of course I asked the big question on how much a tooth costs and he said the one I picked up was $75. I said, I'll buy it...
"No, it's a bonus, a gift for you..."
Very nice man. For anyone interested his website is megaladonteeth.com I won't tell you what he sold the biggest one to date in the world but the number was as big as the tooth. And that is just another day of what some writers are lucky enough to experience. I can honestly say I've never had a normal day in my life.
***
The Meeting
Swimming at depths which would crush the lungs of most mammals, the sperm whale soared in the darkness of cool ocean water. He was on a mission of hunger, one he felt daily as his massive body consumed massive amounts of bio energy, or what humans called, calories.
His diet was giant squid. Two giants in a watery deep, both trying to live and while the squid did admirable battle, the fate was determined as it was to be food for the whale.
The whale found and was locked in battle with a squid, the tentacles wrapped around the whales head, a head applying great force to the sharp teeth in his jaw, teeth severing the body of the squid. Soon, the tentacles relaxed as they were no longer being controlled by a brain.
Small fragments of the shredded squid fell towards the bottom of the ocean, and even though the whale and squid had been swimming deeply, the bottom was still far below.
As quickly as the battle began it was over, the whale swallowing the last large bits, his hunger sated for the moment.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, a large silent shape filled with great power lunged at the whale, gaping mouth wide open to reveal large razor sharp teeth. This shark was known as the megaladon and it too was hungry.
Locking its mouth onto the spine of the sperm whale it applied over 40,000 pounds of force, the sharp teeth quickly slicing deep into the whale.
The whale tried but the damage was too great, soon it was over and the hunter now victim was now nothing but a meal for another beast trying to sate its hunger.
***
*
Yep, agree, preying mantis are fun insects, not much to talk with as they are a bit snobby but to watch they are definitely educational. Last year I watched a racer snake slither up and devour one, the battle was pretty much one sided.
Need an update story Lester on Roadie, piques my writers interest to see you write something about the new addition.
Today of course was as usual, interesting and full of strange shit. Did a job for a man named Steve. After I finished I asked him what he did for a living and he replied, "I sell fossils..." Oh shit, he hooked me with that. Of course I asked, can I see some?
He took me into his shop and wow, talk about cool stuff. He specializes in shark teeth but he had vertebrae, whale teeth to include fossilized sperm whale, bison, horse, it was truly a fun view.
I picked up one that spoke to me and asked what shark it came from as it was huge. He said, "Megaladon."
Told me they grew as big as a bus with jaws wider than five feet and that they lived on eating whales. Showed me a sperm whale tooth and told me he finds whale teeth with shark marks on them.
Of course I asked the big question on how much a tooth costs and he said the one I picked up was $75. I said, I'll buy it...
"No, it's a bonus, a gift for you..."
Very nice man. For anyone interested his website is megaladonteeth.com I won't tell you what he sold the biggest one to date in the world but the number was as big as the tooth. And that is just another day of what some writers are lucky enough to experience. I can honestly say I've never had a normal day in my life.
***
The Meeting
Swimming at depths which would crush the lungs of most mammals, the sperm whale soared in the darkness of cool ocean water. He was on a mission of hunger, one he felt daily as his massive body consumed massive amounts of bio energy, or what humans called, calories.
His diet was giant squid. Two giants in a watery deep, both trying to live and while the squid did admirable battle, the fate was determined as it was to be food for the whale.
The whale found and was locked in battle with a squid, the tentacles wrapped around the whales head, a head applying great force to the sharp teeth in his jaw, teeth severing the body of the squid. Soon, the tentacles relaxed as they were no longer being controlled by a brain.
Small fragments of the shredded squid fell towards the bottom of the ocean, and even though the whale and squid had been swimming deeply, the bottom was still far below.
As quickly as the battle began it was over, the whale swallowing the last large bits, his hunger sated for the moment.
Suddenly, out of the darkness, a large silent shape filled with great power lunged at the whale, gaping mouth wide open to reveal large razor sharp teeth. This shark was known as the megaladon and it too was hungry.
Locking its mouth onto the spine of the sperm whale it applied over 40,000 pounds of force, the sharp teeth quickly slicing deep into the whale.
The whale tried but the damage was too great, soon it was over and the hunter now victim was now nothing but a meal for another beast trying to sate its hunger.
***
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Robin?"
Yes parasite.
"Please kind sir, when may I exit the black hole?"
Nice to see you have manners but I know what you truly are.
"Fuck. Yeah, you're right, but this shithole I'm trapped in sucks, even ate my own arm. Ain't ya gonna let me out soon?"
Oh, you can exit anytime you want.
"I've tried, and...crap! Would you look the size of that coconut! And it is covered with dancing centipedes..."
Yep, you'll be in there for awhile longer yet, enjoy.
"Ooh, pretty. And they change color!"
***
Had an order to make a wooden paddle boat about 8" long with a paddle wheel. My first thought was to use rubber bands to power the craft but a rock told me to use it so I did.
I built a small boat that has two paddles and runs on the power of a rock, a simple rock turns the paddle and it is fun to watch. Built another one this afternoon twice as big and double the price ,$20. the small one will make the lady happy at $10.
Today after working for a neighbor I replanted a tree that was to be thrown in the burn pile as well as the root of a tree known as -Tree of Paradise, both now have a chance on my rockpile. For those not familiar with the tree of paradise, it is a quick growing tree that spreads via roots and can grow in hot climates. It will be fun to see if two trees planted in 100 degree temps will make it
It was a good day, Murphy's Law was quiet and there was inspiration and protection of a friend, must say though, this planet is a strange place. And so, with inspiration comes a poem.
***
The Seed
Coming into and choice, dimensions of what is
Remembering the womb, the birth, and seeing so much death
For some,
confusing.
Riding currents, hovering in eddies of breeze
Carried by the wind
and
for some,
confusing.
A seed released to flow
Mixture of time, nature, chance and choice
Drifting,
never in
confusion.
Germination after taking rest
Rising tall and standing
preparing for the next wave
the next gust
pollination
a new season.
Yes parasite.
"Please kind sir, when may I exit the black hole?"
Nice to see you have manners but I know what you truly are.
"Fuck. Yeah, you're right, but this shithole I'm trapped in sucks, even ate my own arm. Ain't ya gonna let me out soon?"
Oh, you can exit anytime you want.
"I've tried, and...crap! Would you look the size of that coconut! And it is covered with dancing centipedes..."
Yep, you'll be in there for awhile longer yet, enjoy.
"Ooh, pretty. And they change color!"
***
Had an order to make a wooden paddle boat about 8" long with a paddle wheel. My first thought was to use rubber bands to power the craft but a rock told me to use it so I did.
I built a small boat that has two paddles and runs on the power of a rock, a simple rock turns the paddle and it is fun to watch. Built another one this afternoon twice as big and double the price ,$20. the small one will make the lady happy at $10.
Today after working for a neighbor I replanted a tree that was to be thrown in the burn pile as well as the root of a tree known as -Tree of Paradise, both now have a chance on my rockpile. For those not familiar with the tree of paradise, it is a quick growing tree that spreads via roots and can grow in hot climates. It will be fun to see if two trees planted in 100 degree temps will make it
It was a good day, Murphy's Law was quiet and there was inspiration and protection of a friend, must say though, this planet is a strange place. And so, with inspiration comes a poem.
***
The Seed
Coming into and choice, dimensions of what is
Remembering the womb, the birth, and seeing so much death
For some,
confusing.
Riding currents, hovering in eddies of breeze
Carried by the wind
and
for some,
confusing.
A seed released to flow
Mixture of time, nature, chance and choice
Drifting,
never in
confusion.
Germination after taking rest
Rising tall and standing
preparing for the next wave
the next gust
pollination
a new season.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Roadie is pretty cool; he comes to me when I call his name. It only took him a couple days and a few treats. I've never seen such loyal behavior in a cat before. He's a far better dog than the dog I had. I'll send you a video I made.
Cool encounter with the fossil guy. People in esoteric specialties don't get much attention, and they LOVE it when someone shows an interest in their work. Way back when (I think it was before the turn of the century), I was doing some research for one of my stories, and the scene involved a guy making a parchment document. I had questions about details, so I started searching the 'net and found a man in Holland who made his living restoring ancient manuscripts. His English wasn't very good, but he was delighted to answer all my questions. It's hard to make that sort of connection these days; if you even can find someone to answer your questions, they all seem to want your credit card number before they tell you anything. I guess that's why they called it the 'information economy.'
I've got a couple of fossil shark teeth around here somewhere; my folks got them from someplace around Myrtle Beach when they used to winter there. Anyway, the nastiest-looking thing I've ever seen was a fossil of a whole fish of some (obviously predatory) kind, and its whole body was armored—even the fucking EYEBALLS had little armor discs on 'em. No teeth in its mouth; it just had jaws that looked like industrial plate shears. Must have had a rough life to need armored eyeballs. Big bastard too, big enough to bite you in two and swallow the halves.
Rock-powered boats! Man, what a breakthrough! Do they go faster if you put more rocks in them?
LC
Cool encounter with the fossil guy. People in esoteric specialties don't get much attention, and they LOVE it when someone shows an interest in their work. Way back when (I think it was before the turn of the century), I was doing some research for one of my stories, and the scene involved a guy making a parchment document. I had questions about details, so I started searching the 'net and found a man in Holland who made his living restoring ancient manuscripts. His English wasn't very good, but he was delighted to answer all my questions. It's hard to make that sort of connection these days; if you even can find someone to answer your questions, they all seem to want your credit card number before they tell you anything. I guess that's why they called it the 'information economy.'
I've got a couple of fossil shark teeth around here somewhere; my folks got them from someplace around Myrtle Beach when they used to winter there. Anyway, the nastiest-looking thing I've ever seen was a fossil of a whole fish of some (obviously predatory) kind, and its whole body was armored—even the fucking EYEBALLS had little armor discs on 'em. No teeth in its mouth; it just had jaws that looked like industrial plate shears. Must have had a rough life to need armored eyeballs. Big bastard too, big enough to bite you in two and swallow the halves.
Rock-powered boats! Man, what a breakthrough! Do they go faster if you put more rocks in them?
LC
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Oh, I almost forgot; you'll like this: I was in the hardware store yesterday and happened to pass the rack of axes, mauls, etc. Paused to look, and there were some 8- and 10-pound sledgehammers, and they had little stickers on the heads that said, "DESTROY MORE!"
I had to laugh at that.
I had to laugh at that.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Enjoyed the video Lester, typical cat. "Hear me roar...(Yawn)"
As to the hammer, yes, the bigger the better.
Today was interesting and hot. While working at a nearby house I was told to grab an old crappy piece of furniture - I think it once was a book shelf - and throw it onto the burn pile, which I did. Underneath was a young rattlesnake hanging out trying to escape the already hot morning.
Now, I'm not going to give names but the one who hired me (who I know knows much better) and the owner of the house (who I know needs to learn much) condoned the killing of the snake.
I was amazing to see the fear in the owners eyes as he told his wife, "Get the pistol out of the truck, the one with shotshells." For those of you not used to guns a shotshell is a piece of ammo where the bullet is replaced with tiny lead pellets, much like a shotgun shell only much smaller.
I spoke to the snake and he was at peace with the situation, trying to escape the heat and vibrations. He was not alarmed, scared, and I told him what was coming.
"Boom!" From three feet away, 36 inches, and the shooter missed. (fear, gotta love it when the adrenaline kicks in) Amazing, and shooting towards a metal fence post and concrete wall. For those not familiar with physics there is such thing called, ricochet, where bullets you fire hit something solid and bounce back to hit you. It was interesting and I felt sad for what I was witnessing.
Anyway, the second shot worked and one dead snake whose only crime was to be a snake. What the fuck is wrong with humans, I mean death everywhere and so totally embraced. It would be karmic justice if another species arrives and thinks, "Oh shit! Humans! Honey, go to the space ship and grab the ray gun, the one with shotshells..."
Inspiration today and of course, another day not normal.
***
Knowing
To know pain you must first experience pleasure
To know hunger you must first experience fullness
To know knowledge you must first experience ignorance
To know God you must first experience evil.
To know of any and all you must first experience
To know and experience is all a part of evolution
To know your weakness is to find your strength
To know love is the final success of all experience.
***
"I know I like cheese."
Good evening paragram, yes cheese is wonderful.
"To know and experience...Interesting Robin, a bit philosophical, makes me hungry for cheese..."
I know.
***
Going to travel tonight, it's been awhile since I've been home and it beckons in a strange way that occurs every thousand years or so. When you look toward the Southern sky, between the flashes of heat lightning and glance to the sky, three stars mark the entrance to the door. Should be fun, hope they have cheese or at least put out the potato chips.
As to the hammer, yes, the bigger the better.
Today was interesting and hot. While working at a nearby house I was told to grab an old crappy piece of furniture - I think it once was a book shelf - and throw it onto the burn pile, which I did. Underneath was a young rattlesnake hanging out trying to escape the already hot morning.
Now, I'm not going to give names but the one who hired me (who I know knows much better) and the owner of the house (who I know needs to learn much) condoned the killing of the snake.
I was amazing to see the fear in the owners eyes as he told his wife, "Get the pistol out of the truck, the one with shotshells." For those of you not used to guns a shotshell is a piece of ammo where the bullet is replaced with tiny lead pellets, much like a shotgun shell only much smaller.
I spoke to the snake and he was at peace with the situation, trying to escape the heat and vibrations. He was not alarmed, scared, and I told him what was coming.
"Boom!" From three feet away, 36 inches, and the shooter missed. (fear, gotta love it when the adrenaline kicks in) Amazing, and shooting towards a metal fence post and concrete wall. For those not familiar with physics there is such thing called, ricochet, where bullets you fire hit something solid and bounce back to hit you. It was interesting and I felt sad for what I was witnessing.
Anyway, the second shot worked and one dead snake whose only crime was to be a snake. What the fuck is wrong with humans, I mean death everywhere and so totally embraced. It would be karmic justice if another species arrives and thinks, "Oh shit! Humans! Honey, go to the space ship and grab the ray gun, the one with shotshells..."
Inspiration today and of course, another day not normal.
***
Knowing
To know pain you must first experience pleasure
To know hunger you must first experience fullness
To know knowledge you must first experience ignorance
To know God you must first experience evil.
To know of any and all you must first experience
To know and experience is all a part of evolution
To know your weakness is to find your strength
To know love is the final success of all experience.
***
"I know I like cheese."
Good evening paragram, yes cheese is wonderful.
"To know and experience...Interesting Robin, a bit philosophical, makes me hungry for cheese..."
I know.
***
Going to travel tonight, it's been awhile since I've been home and it beckons in a strange way that occurs every thousand years or so. When you look toward the Southern sky, between the flashes of heat lightning and glance to the sky, three stars mark the entrance to the door. Should be fun, hope they have cheese or at least put out the potato chips.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
One Night
Standing singing showering so
Seeing
Saw
Preying mantis lit by the full moon
So silent
Still
"Hello"
Knowledge
Knowing
Still
A smile
Wonderful moment as the wind chuckled
A prayer where the owl left her perch
Leaving moonlit shadows
Shadows lingering over still, a smile,
and "Hello"
Such peace with travel
Two fingers of the Moon Veeing while she veered in motion
One crossed into with change angle of three,
Leaving light and life.
Standing singing showering so
Seeing
Saw
Preying mantis lit by the full moon
So silent
Still
"Hello"
Knowledge
Knowing
Still
A smile
Wonderful moment as the wind chuckled
A prayer where the owl left her perch
Leaving moonlit shadows
Shadows lingering over still, a smile,
and "Hello"
Such peace with travel
Two fingers of the Moon Veeing while she veered in motion
One crossed into with change angle of three,
Leaving light and life.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Today is tomorrow but today was good.
Inspirational and thanks to a special friend who helped make it so.
Of course, another day not normal and one for a poem.
***
Today
Market of vendors sitting beneath Chinese tents
Wares of tamales, shaved ice, teacup bird feeders, jewelry, spoons, and choice.
Two played guitar, a mix of Spanish influence
Sunlight blinding face and voice.
Sitting, watching, thinking
hearing
dreaming.
First it was three generations of New Perce, viewing and asking of jewelry
Appreciation from all sides
After they purchased they left leaving room for the rest.
She had a beard, a bearded lady
Thick, black, and coarse
Strands healthy to cover, diverting attention from buttocks of mammoth proportions
with a hearty deep sound coming from her throat.
"How much for this?" a carved black locust spoon, one matching her hand
$4.00, a price she needed, she wanted, and...
"Yes, I'll take it."
Her friend too, the same in appearance though skin showing more.
Two kind women, same in many ways, to a world - ugly.
Both now owners of $4.00 hand carved black locust spoons.
Walking away, or more of a waddle, the eye glimpsed inside
Seeing two dragonflies with hearts of gold
flittering
Souls glowing gold.
I smiled, it was a good day
and to a special friend I say,
thanks.
Inspirational and thanks to a special friend who helped make it so.
Of course, another day not normal and one for a poem.
***
Today
Market of vendors sitting beneath Chinese tents
Wares of tamales, shaved ice, teacup bird feeders, jewelry, spoons, and choice.
Two played guitar, a mix of Spanish influence
Sunlight blinding face and voice.
Sitting, watching, thinking
hearing
dreaming.
First it was three generations of New Perce, viewing and asking of jewelry
Appreciation from all sides
After they purchased they left leaving room for the rest.
She had a beard, a bearded lady
Thick, black, and coarse
Strands healthy to cover, diverting attention from buttocks of mammoth proportions
with a hearty deep sound coming from her throat.
"How much for this?" a carved black locust spoon, one matching her hand
$4.00, a price she needed, she wanted, and...
"Yes, I'll take it."
Her friend too, the same in appearance though skin showing more.
Two kind women, same in many ways, to a world - ugly.
Both now owners of $4.00 hand carved black locust spoons.
Walking away, or more of a waddle, the eye glimpsed inside
Seeing two dragonflies with hearts of gold
flittering
Souls glowing gold.
I smiled, it was a good day
and to a special friend I say,
thanks.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Ha! Yes, of course...I'm nusto crazy and I love it.
Today was another market day and the weather was perfect. The lady who ordered the small paddle boat liked it and promised to give me a jar a jalapeno jam she will make this coming week. Four little girls bought more swords after already buying some two weeks ago, I'm thinking their neighbors will be peeking out of curtained windows and with a tremor of fear in their voices say, "Damn, those kids look dangerous..."
Normal day today? Of course not. Inspirational and thus a short story, but first: Shit does not roll down hill. I worked on a neighbors septic system, finding the 'lost' septic tank.
Found it. A cheap yellow plastic piece of shit designed to hold shit. It was distorted and nasty and when exposing more of its ugliness to the world the bucket bit deep into another main line coming from a guest house.
Got to repair it and experience the joy of shit all over the place and to add more bliss, the mother-in-law inside did not know the pipes where broken and flushed... Yep, shit flows downhill, up arms, on legs...Fitting though, a shitty planet makes for shitty shit.
Anyway, washing the hands twenty times seems to have worked...Mmm, nope, better wash them again.
***
"Hey Robin..."
Yes.
"Down here..."
Looking down a smile formed on Robin's face as there was the usual assortment of fallen leaves announcing the pending change of seasons scattered around the lawn. The cause of the smile was another seed cone. Now, this seed cone was special in that in the park located in Grangeville Idaho it was a stranger to the park. There were no White Fir tree's for miles in any direction yet there on the ground was one talking to Robin.
(On a side note, most people call seed cones, pine cones. Language is strange on this planet)
Hello there, where did you come from?
"I was placed here."
I see... Would you mind if I took you home?
"No. Not at all, in fact I've been waiting for you. I wanted to talk to the pine cone in your truck. You know, the one hanging from your rear view mirror?"
Great. And picking up the cone Robin instantly saw how much care had been taken to pluck the lower inch of the cone free from seeds leaving a beautifully formed cone with great definition.
The cone spent the day perched on the edge of the canopy, surveying those enjoying the warm day in the park. It enjoyed the view and even sang a song or two, this caused Robin to drift off in a light nap, this being mostly awake but mostly asleep and at the edge of the Dream that comes with being awake and asleep.
Later, after the market was over, Robin placed the cone in the truck in the center console, right under the pine cone hanging from the mirror. Now Robin could have listened in to the conversation but chose not too, but he smiled as it felt good to help.
***
"I see you had a busy day Robin," paragram was definitely not as vulgar as the parasite though he was not as creative, more like a parrot on a pirates shoulder.
Yes it was busy and the air was filled with sensations. Good to see you're adjusting to this thread paragram. How was your day?
"Interesting. I studied small black beetles you had in one of the bags of kale. Amazing how such so small can chew such big holes."
True. Interesting little bugs, proves the 'organicicky' status plus added protein.
"Robin?"
Yes paragram.
"Uh, you might want to take a shower...You, um, well, you stink like shit."
Ha! No shit. You're right. My nose got used to it. Have a good night paragram.
(And another day on planet earth is finished. Outside there were two seed cones deep in conversation.)
Today was another market day and the weather was perfect. The lady who ordered the small paddle boat liked it and promised to give me a jar a jalapeno jam she will make this coming week. Four little girls bought more swords after already buying some two weeks ago, I'm thinking their neighbors will be peeking out of curtained windows and with a tremor of fear in their voices say, "Damn, those kids look dangerous..."
Normal day today? Of course not. Inspirational and thus a short story, but first: Shit does not roll down hill. I worked on a neighbors septic system, finding the 'lost' septic tank.
Found it. A cheap yellow plastic piece of shit designed to hold shit. It was distorted and nasty and when exposing more of its ugliness to the world the bucket bit deep into another main line coming from a guest house.
Got to repair it and experience the joy of shit all over the place and to add more bliss, the mother-in-law inside did not know the pipes where broken and flushed... Yep, shit flows downhill, up arms, on legs...Fitting though, a shitty planet makes for shitty shit.
Anyway, washing the hands twenty times seems to have worked...Mmm, nope, better wash them again.
***
"Hey Robin..."
Yes.
"Down here..."
Looking down a smile formed on Robin's face as there was the usual assortment of fallen leaves announcing the pending change of seasons scattered around the lawn. The cause of the smile was another seed cone. Now, this seed cone was special in that in the park located in Grangeville Idaho it was a stranger to the park. There were no White Fir tree's for miles in any direction yet there on the ground was one talking to Robin.
(On a side note, most people call seed cones, pine cones. Language is strange on this planet)
Hello there, where did you come from?
"I was placed here."
I see... Would you mind if I took you home?
"No. Not at all, in fact I've been waiting for you. I wanted to talk to the pine cone in your truck. You know, the one hanging from your rear view mirror?"
Great. And picking up the cone Robin instantly saw how much care had been taken to pluck the lower inch of the cone free from seeds leaving a beautifully formed cone with great definition.
The cone spent the day perched on the edge of the canopy, surveying those enjoying the warm day in the park. It enjoyed the view and even sang a song or two, this caused Robin to drift off in a light nap, this being mostly awake but mostly asleep and at the edge of the Dream that comes with being awake and asleep.
Later, after the market was over, Robin placed the cone in the truck in the center console, right under the pine cone hanging from the mirror. Now Robin could have listened in to the conversation but chose not too, but he smiled as it felt good to help.
***
"I see you had a busy day Robin," paragram was definitely not as vulgar as the parasite though he was not as creative, more like a parrot on a pirates shoulder.
Yes it was busy and the air was filled with sensations. Good to see you're adjusting to this thread paragram. How was your day?
"Interesting. I studied small black beetles you had in one of the bags of kale. Amazing how such so small can chew such big holes."
True. Interesting little bugs, proves the 'organicicky' status plus added protein.
"Robin?"
Yes paragram.
"Uh, you might want to take a shower...You, um, well, you stink like shit."
Ha! No shit. You're right. My nose got used to it. Have a good night paragram.
(And another day on planet earth is finished. Outside there were two seed cones deep in conversation.)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
In a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there was creation.
Universes died, Universes were born, upheaval, leveling, planets collided, planets separated
Sun's went bright, Sun's went dark
Life
Death
In a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there was a planet you now know...
Earth
On Earth in a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there were
the People
The People come from a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there was
much to do
much to start
much to finish
Stonehenge: In a time before this time, during the time before there was time, the People finished what now again
is started
Interesting this human concept of knowledge. Knowing. Speculating. Concerning the self. Finding common ground based upon
ignorance...
Burial ground - No
Astral observatory -No
Ceremonial ground -No
Religion - No
Science -No
Magical - No
Real -Yes
Needed - More than any can imagine
Wanted - Yes and No
You see, humans have answers for what they know and what they do not. They find common ground to base their answers ,as such the answers for what the purpose of Stonehenge concerns humans. Yes, some say, "Aliens" and they would be wrong. The humans are so often wrong they relish in the bliss of ignorance.
If a primitive species, let's say, a human raised in a setting where there is no science, no modern technology. Let's say one of the tribe finds a rifle on the ground. They have no idea that it can be loaded with a cartridge, cocked, and the trigger squeezed to cause a bullet to be ejected with great force and sound. No, they would find and decide the rifle was a tool to be used. Maybe use the barrel to pry rocks out of the ground. Maybe use the wood as a religious item of worship. A whole lot of maybes and not one would even come close to the true answer.
Stonehenge: Humans stumbled upon what they cannot understand. Those humans who aided in the construction were more than humans, they were the People. The People lived alongside the humans and started what needed to be started.
The answer?
Language of the Stars, and no, not the species and people living out in the many Universes, the Stars themselves. Space rock. Sun's. Moons. Comets. Planets. Other 'Things' existing that in this time there are no words for and none a human can understand.
Communication of the People between the people, the worlds, the time.
"Time machine?"
If such an explanation is a concept you can understand, then the answer is yes but not in the way anyone can imagine.
There is more but it is beyond your imagination and abilities. Stick to rifles, to finding Pokemon, stick to ideas of what you feel comfortable regarding Stonehenge and anything you find strange.
And now,
a poem.
***
Sing with silent sound this song of such beauty
Music of the soul
Rock solid in vibration
Gathered circle within and without circle
Nested world
Feathered nest
Spirit from a world between worlds
Silent for so long
now longing to sing
Bird of the air
Claw of the Dragon
the People
It cannot be stopped
It cannot be changed
Universes died, Universes were born, upheaval, leveling, planets collided, planets separated
Sun's went bright, Sun's went dark
Life
Death
In a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there was a planet you now know...
Earth
On Earth in a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there were
the People
The People come from a time before this time, during the time before there was time, there was
much to do
much to start
much to finish
Stonehenge: In a time before this time, during the time before there was time, the People finished what now again
is started
Interesting this human concept of knowledge. Knowing. Speculating. Concerning the self. Finding common ground based upon
ignorance...
Burial ground - No
Astral observatory -No
Ceremonial ground -No
Religion - No
Science -No
Magical - No
Real -Yes
Needed - More than any can imagine
Wanted - Yes and No
You see, humans have answers for what they know and what they do not. They find common ground to base their answers ,as such the answers for what the purpose of Stonehenge concerns humans. Yes, some say, "Aliens" and they would be wrong. The humans are so often wrong they relish in the bliss of ignorance.
If a primitive species, let's say, a human raised in a setting where there is no science, no modern technology. Let's say one of the tribe finds a rifle on the ground. They have no idea that it can be loaded with a cartridge, cocked, and the trigger squeezed to cause a bullet to be ejected with great force and sound. No, they would find and decide the rifle was a tool to be used. Maybe use the barrel to pry rocks out of the ground. Maybe use the wood as a religious item of worship. A whole lot of maybes and not one would even come close to the true answer.
Stonehenge: Humans stumbled upon what they cannot understand. Those humans who aided in the construction were more than humans, they were the People. The People lived alongside the humans and started what needed to be started.
The answer?
Language of the Stars, and no, not the species and people living out in the many Universes, the Stars themselves. Space rock. Sun's. Moons. Comets. Planets. Other 'Things' existing that in this time there are no words for and none a human can understand.
Communication of the People between the people, the worlds, the time.
"Time machine?"
If such an explanation is a concept you can understand, then the answer is yes but not in the way anyone can imagine.
There is more but it is beyond your imagination and abilities. Stick to rifles, to finding Pokemon, stick to ideas of what you feel comfortable regarding Stonehenge and anything you find strange.
And now,
a poem.
***
Sing with silent sound this song of such beauty
Music of the soul
Rock solid in vibration
Gathered circle within and without circle
Nested world
Feathered nest
Spirit from a world between worlds
Silent for so long
now longing to sing
Bird of the air
Claw of the Dragon
the People
It cannot be stopped
It cannot be changed
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
"Whatcha doing Fred?"
Doodling on a piece of paper Fred pondered the question for a few seconds and replied, "I'm a wondering about women."
"Whatcha wondering about them for, they is nuthin but trouble. Whyn't you and me go fishing, heard Melborne caught himself a fat cat last night."
"A fat cat, really, hell that Melborne couldn't catch a cold in school filled with snot nosed sick kids. How big a cat?" Fred had stopped doodling now and the drawing forgotten, the women forgotten, only the topic of fishing filled his mind now.
"I a heard, heard mind ya, from the Lucas brothers that he a landed a fifty pounder..."
"Fifty pounder! Horseshit, that fat Melborne don't a have da strength strapping on his arm to land a cat half that size."
"I know but the Lucas brothers were pretty straightfaced when they a told me..."
Fishing is an old profession and even the talk of fishing had hooked Fred. Women on the other hand will drive the richest, poorest, strongest, weakest man a crazy, crazyier than a possum the Lucas brothers once covered in bacon grease when the big ol black bear was a rummaging in da garbage pit. Poor ol possum tried playing dead n the bear, well, he a licked that possum so much he a rolled all over the place till his mind plumb went bonkers.
Fred said, "I a thinking now maybe you n me should go on down and lay a line down at Potter's Hole tonight."
"Can't, wife, well, you a know how they are, all crazy and she a holding me to the promise that I'd fix the shitter. Leaky tank, a little water on the floor, you'd a thought it be the end of the world..."
"Poor bastard, but I a think I'm a gonna go lay a line, see if Felix is up to a challenge."
Now, Felix is a big cat, some would say a cat of mythalogeecal purportions. Fred once hooked up on a cat down in Potters Hole that fought like the dickens and after an hour of struggle n never seeing the fighter the line parted.
Later that night the air was alight with the glow of fireflies and the sound of frogs a ribbetting and croakin.
With lantern in hand Fred loaded up the line with some good greasy bait and with a grunt flung out the big mess where the glop hit the surface with a big, "Plunk!" Hook sinking to the bottom ta do its work, Fred sat on his folding chair and released a cloud of gas strong enough to test the best of friends. He chuckled n wished he a wished his friend was a here to suffer but he was a suffering fixing the shitter n getting stress from his old lady.
Reeling in the slack line n placen his pole between a forked stick stuck in the muddy bank he pulled back the tab of his beer. "Psst..." The foam flowed from the iced can, causing Fred to smile. Tipping back the can he chugged a few, paused, and finished the first where he a started the same process fer the second.
Sitting there, Fred started a thinking about women again. Strange creatures them women folk, cats be much easier, mud bugs be a easier, snakes, crocs, and..."
"KaThump..." the pole in the forked stick fell over as the pole bent so hard it almost flew inta da water.
"Oh shit!" Fred lunged, grabbing the pole afor she flew into the river and the battle was on.
Above in the dark sky the stars blinked and flickered, the moon glowed, the fire flies glowed. Only a time will tell if Fred catches his dream or all that is a left is some empty beer cans, and the dawn.
Doodling on a piece of paper Fred pondered the question for a few seconds and replied, "I'm a wondering about women."
"Whatcha wondering about them for, they is nuthin but trouble. Whyn't you and me go fishing, heard Melborne caught himself a fat cat last night."
"A fat cat, really, hell that Melborne couldn't catch a cold in school filled with snot nosed sick kids. How big a cat?" Fred had stopped doodling now and the drawing forgotten, the women forgotten, only the topic of fishing filled his mind now.
"I a heard, heard mind ya, from the Lucas brothers that he a landed a fifty pounder..."
"Fifty pounder! Horseshit, that fat Melborne don't a have da strength strapping on his arm to land a cat half that size."
"I know but the Lucas brothers were pretty straightfaced when they a told me..."
Fishing is an old profession and even the talk of fishing had hooked Fred. Women on the other hand will drive the richest, poorest, strongest, weakest man a crazy, crazyier than a possum the Lucas brothers once covered in bacon grease when the big ol black bear was a rummaging in da garbage pit. Poor ol possum tried playing dead n the bear, well, he a licked that possum so much he a rolled all over the place till his mind plumb went bonkers.
Fred said, "I a thinking now maybe you n me should go on down and lay a line down at Potter's Hole tonight."
"Can't, wife, well, you a know how they are, all crazy and she a holding me to the promise that I'd fix the shitter. Leaky tank, a little water on the floor, you'd a thought it be the end of the world..."
"Poor bastard, but I a think I'm a gonna go lay a line, see if Felix is up to a challenge."
Now, Felix is a big cat, some would say a cat of mythalogeecal purportions. Fred once hooked up on a cat down in Potters Hole that fought like the dickens and after an hour of struggle n never seeing the fighter the line parted.
Later that night the air was alight with the glow of fireflies and the sound of frogs a ribbetting and croakin.
With lantern in hand Fred loaded up the line with some good greasy bait and with a grunt flung out the big mess where the glop hit the surface with a big, "Plunk!" Hook sinking to the bottom ta do its work, Fred sat on his folding chair and released a cloud of gas strong enough to test the best of friends. He chuckled n wished he a wished his friend was a here to suffer but he was a suffering fixing the shitter n getting stress from his old lady.
Reeling in the slack line n placen his pole between a forked stick stuck in the muddy bank he pulled back the tab of his beer. "Psst..." The foam flowed from the iced can, causing Fred to smile. Tipping back the can he chugged a few, paused, and finished the first where he a started the same process fer the second.
Sitting there, Fred started a thinking about women again. Strange creatures them women folk, cats be much easier, mud bugs be a easier, snakes, crocs, and..."
"KaThump..." the pole in the forked stick fell over as the pole bent so hard it almost flew inta da water.
"Oh shit!" Fred lunged, grabbing the pole afor she flew into the river and the battle was on.
Above in the dark sky the stars blinked and flickered, the moon glowed, the fire flies glowed. Only a time will tell if Fred catches his dream or all that is a left is some empty beer cans, and the dawn.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Today Robin can't write so I'm filling in. He said the parasite was more creative than me, paragram, and I must say he is wrong.
He can't write because he spent the day excavating and using an air compressor and jackhammer, actually wore out a brand new tip. Currently he is bouncing around the house mumbling, "I love you. My hands, has anyone seen my hands...Where are my fingers! Uhda, uhda, uhda...Why am I vibrating?"
***
This thread exists to help stimulate writers minds. Tonight I will not write a story as being an existence known as paragram, I'm more a thinker. Robin thinks I'm more like a parrot on his shoulder but lets show the world and Robin especially, that there is more to me than he thinks...
***
Much had been written about ghosts, about God, Satan, good, bad...
Zombies have been written about until it makes a reader sick ( or at least it should)
So much written about the supernatural, the natural, well here is an idea for some writer to run with.
Imagine ghosts being haunted...not by other ghosts but by ghosts of another dimension not known by your dimension. For that matter, imagine Satan or God being haunted by something not even they have power over...
Yet, to make it all more complicated, the ghost is not the Holy Spirit or any spirit as spirits 'come' from someplace.
It would be a great challenge to write such a story, I know Robin could do it but I just saw him bounce off the wall and careen into a shelf saying, "St st st stop...Udha udha udha (bang, boom, bounce)
To add more parameters to such a story, the 'ghost' haunting those already haunting are not more powerful than the ones they haunt. They cannot hurt, destroy, or usurp that being haunted YET they do
influence powerful decisions and choices...
I have to go now as Robin just grabbed Radar, his male corgi and now the both of them are vibrating so bad the fat fur ball is losing weight and his fur and his...oh oh, clean up on aisle five!
He can't write because he spent the day excavating and using an air compressor and jackhammer, actually wore out a brand new tip. Currently he is bouncing around the house mumbling, "I love you. My hands, has anyone seen my hands...Where are my fingers! Uhda, uhda, uhda...Why am I vibrating?"
***
This thread exists to help stimulate writers minds. Tonight I will not write a story as being an existence known as paragram, I'm more a thinker. Robin thinks I'm more like a parrot on his shoulder but lets show the world and Robin especially, that there is more to me than he thinks...
***
Much had been written about ghosts, about God, Satan, good, bad...
Zombies have been written about until it makes a reader sick ( or at least it should)
So much written about the supernatural, the natural, well here is an idea for some writer to run with.
Imagine ghosts being haunted...not by other ghosts but by ghosts of another dimension not known by your dimension. For that matter, imagine Satan or God being haunted by something not even they have power over...
Yet, to make it all more complicated, the ghost is not the Holy Spirit or any spirit as spirits 'come' from someplace.
It would be a great challenge to write such a story, I know Robin could do it but I just saw him bounce off the wall and careen into a shelf saying, "St st st stop...Udha udha udha (bang, boom, bounce)
To add more parameters to such a story, the 'ghost' haunting those already haunting are not more powerful than the ones they haunt. They cannot hurt, destroy, or usurp that being haunted YET they do
influence powerful decisions and choices...
I have to go now as Robin just grabbed Radar, his male corgi and now the both of them are vibrating so bad the fat fur ball is losing weight and his fur and his...oh oh, clean up on aisle five!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Orange butterfly's in game
chasing backdrop of dust devils
Wind breezing
Rocks tired
Pushing dirt and clay
Sweating
Orange butterfly's sitting
I smiled.
chasing backdrop of dust devils
Wind breezing
Rocks tired
Pushing dirt and clay
Sweating
Orange butterfly's sitting
I smiled.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The River
He cast multiple shadows as the sun journeyed across a shadowless sky. Sitting on the rivers bank the old man drew pictures on the surface of the water, a smile upon his face. He seemed to be lost in something, maybe even time.
Coming along the trail meandering parallel to the flowing water a young boy saw the man lost with himself and he asked, "Why are you drawing on the water?" An innocent question but children often ask the most logical and simplest of questions.
The old man turned and locked his gaze on the boy, the smile still on the face. "I'm watching time."
"Watching time? It's just flowing water, how can you see time?"
Gesturing with his right hand the man said, "Come boy, see for yourself." And so the boy did.
Looking down into the clear water the boy said, "I see nothing but water," this caused the old man to laugh.
"Nothing but water? Here, take these sticks and throw them into the water."
The boy took the sticks, small in size and numbering at least a dozen. Casting one the man immediately said, "No, not one at a time but all of them at once."
The boy squinted his eyes and frowned at the strange command but did as ordered cast the remaining lot out into the air over the river. Some splashed near his feet, some in the middle and some almost made it to the other side.
"Now boy, tell me what you see."
"I see sticks floating down the river."
"What else."
"I see some flowing fast in the fast current, I see some caught in an eddy, and I see some flowing slowly."
Smiling the man said, "You are seeing time."
Perplexed the boy said, "All I see are floating sticks and flowing water."
A more serious look appeared on the mans face as he said, "You're not really looking boy, you are young, at the age when all time is visible to those who watch yet you cling to the ways of blindness."
The boys face took on the look of hurt, he did not like to be scolded and he said, "You're just a crazy old man, tell me how can you see time.?"
With a silence and with the last of the sticks finally disappearing from sight down the flowing river the man said, "Time never stands still, it never flows back only forward and with it there is much open to change and opportunity, filled with smoothness and turmoil, slow speeds and fast and yet in the end, it moves forward with certainty."
The boy looked out over the river and thought of what the man had said. It seemed strange and he thought the man was crazy. Turning to say goodbye to the man the boy saw only an old rock, one covered in moss and casting a flickering shadow on the rippled water flowing at its base.
He cast multiple shadows as the sun journeyed across a shadowless sky. Sitting on the rivers bank the old man drew pictures on the surface of the water, a smile upon his face. He seemed to be lost in something, maybe even time.
Coming along the trail meandering parallel to the flowing water a young boy saw the man lost with himself and he asked, "Why are you drawing on the water?" An innocent question but children often ask the most logical and simplest of questions.
The old man turned and locked his gaze on the boy, the smile still on the face. "I'm watching time."
"Watching time? It's just flowing water, how can you see time?"
Gesturing with his right hand the man said, "Come boy, see for yourself." And so the boy did.
Looking down into the clear water the boy said, "I see nothing but water," this caused the old man to laugh.
"Nothing but water? Here, take these sticks and throw them into the water."
The boy took the sticks, small in size and numbering at least a dozen. Casting one the man immediately said, "No, not one at a time but all of them at once."
The boy squinted his eyes and frowned at the strange command but did as ordered cast the remaining lot out into the air over the river. Some splashed near his feet, some in the middle and some almost made it to the other side.
"Now boy, tell me what you see."
"I see sticks floating down the river."
"What else."
"I see some flowing fast in the fast current, I see some caught in an eddy, and I see some flowing slowly."
Smiling the man said, "You are seeing time."
Perplexed the boy said, "All I see are floating sticks and flowing water."
A more serious look appeared on the mans face as he said, "You're not really looking boy, you are young, at the age when all time is visible to those who watch yet you cling to the ways of blindness."
The boys face took on the look of hurt, he did not like to be scolded and he said, "You're just a crazy old man, tell me how can you see time.?"
With a silence and with the last of the sticks finally disappearing from sight down the flowing river the man said, "Time never stands still, it never flows back only forward and with it there is much open to change and opportunity, filled with smoothness and turmoil, slow speeds and fast and yet in the end, it moves forward with certainty."
The boy looked out over the river and thought of what the man had said. It seemed strange and he thought the man was crazy. Turning to say goodbye to the man the boy saw only an old rock, one covered in moss and casting a flickering shadow on the rippled water flowing at its base.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inspired of course as it usually is par for the course. "Fore!"
***
The Wind
A nuisance of farmers dream, bringer of storm and hail
Driving force to annoy those bearing umbrella's
Whipped wave driving terror, small craft screams
Kite flyers love the tug and stance
Surfers want the wave
Sailboats strive for strong direction
(silence, listen...)
But do they hear?
Riders of the sky
Clouds today cry from yesterday tears
Blue sky and dry
Still, no, no stillness
Wind whipped smoke from burning fields, mushrooming high to announce
Dust devils swirl across tilled dust
and sound?
Deafening, loud, so loud the language of motion
From every direction
Moving hair, moving, proving, announcing...
Take care bird learning
Take heed for those knowing
Take a smile upon the face glowing
Signed: A Kiss from the Wind...
***
The Wind
A nuisance of farmers dream, bringer of storm and hail
Driving force to annoy those bearing umbrella's
Whipped wave driving terror, small craft screams
Kite flyers love the tug and stance
Surfers want the wave
Sailboats strive for strong direction
(silence, listen...)
But do they hear?
Riders of the sky
Clouds today cry from yesterday tears
Blue sky and dry
Still, no, no stillness
Wind whipped smoke from burning fields, mushrooming high to announce
Dust devils swirl across tilled dust
and sound?
Deafening, loud, so loud the language of motion
From every direction
Moving hair, moving, proving, announcing...
Take care bird learning
Take heed for those knowing
Take a smile upon the face glowing
Signed: A Kiss from the Wind...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Alive in a world alive, living the scenes of death
Daily
tick-tock, tick-tock, tock-tick.
Hard work and hardened dreams
Grit and oil under nail
Sun hot beams.
Narrow roads traveled
Highways at speed
Passed by passerby's.
Aloft on wing, spreading shadows black
until
swept away by and embraced isolation.
World of man you can keep
Lost today with ladybugs and spiders
Smiling with the real simple pleasures.
Looking forward to passing][
To travel where there belongs
Breaking bonds, a world of prison, a world of forgotten dreams.
***
So hows the black hole parasite?
"Not bad, actually having a ball in here. Funny how people think black holes suck shit in even light."
It sucked you in.
"Yeah, because of what I was when now I am."
Why did you think it is funny how people think black holes suck shit in?
"Because you and everyone bearing the title of human are morons and stupid."
Who am I?
"You're Robin."
No, I'm not, I am what the black hole creates.
"You sure put on a good act. To me you look like another one of the herd, the air munching, biomass of putrid."
(silence)
I can understand why you would think that...Now, a poem about my real home.
***
Black Hole
Gravity bowing to the laws of gravity
Light waving hell bent on bowing to the blackness of space
Matter, and for that matter, anti-matter
Protons
Neutrons
Atoms
Elements...
All a bunch, a group, a herd, of spatial disease.
Pure light, such light, cannot be seen
Felt
Known
Released.
Yin/Yang
As blackness of what is, is shown
the light is given
gift of a need.
Daily
tick-tock, tick-tock, tock-tick.
Hard work and hardened dreams
Grit and oil under nail
Sun hot beams.
Narrow roads traveled
Highways at speed
Passed by passerby's.
Aloft on wing, spreading shadows black
until
swept away by and embraced isolation.
World of man you can keep
Lost today with ladybugs and spiders
Smiling with the real simple pleasures.
Looking forward to passing][
To travel where there belongs
Breaking bonds, a world of prison, a world of forgotten dreams.
***
So hows the black hole parasite?
"Not bad, actually having a ball in here. Funny how people think black holes suck shit in even light."
It sucked you in.
"Yeah, because of what I was when now I am."
Why did you think it is funny how people think black holes suck shit in?
"Because you and everyone bearing the title of human are morons and stupid."
Who am I?
"You're Robin."
No, I'm not, I am what the black hole creates.
"You sure put on a good act. To me you look like another one of the herd, the air munching, biomass of putrid."
(silence)
I can understand why you would think that...Now, a poem about my real home.
***
Black Hole
Gravity bowing to the laws of gravity
Light waving hell bent on bowing to the blackness of space
Matter, and for that matter, anti-matter
Protons
Neutrons
Atoms
Elements...
All a bunch, a group, a herd, of spatial disease.
Pure light, such light, cannot be seen
Felt
Known
Released.
Yin/Yang
As blackness of what is, is shown
the light is given
gift of a need.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Today is a short story written as a gift for any writer who wants to run with. I could give a shit about fame or fortune I just like writing, thinking, and learning about this fucked up world. If any writer(s) want this story, take it, pump it up, embellish, make enough profit to buy a week old bagel and a diet soda.
***
Artificial intelligence. Many writers have written about computers becoming 'human', how machines develop a 'soul'. Issac A. was great in this arena. Many sci fi writer dabble with A.I.
Emotions: Love, hate, anger, joy... Are these emotions able to be implanted in a computer?
Take love for example, even a robot like me got to experience the fucked up emotion of love as well as all those other emotions you humans love to babble about so a computer or robot or maybe a combination of many forms of 'machines' can feel?
***
Drone Meeting
Written by: An obsolete robot awaiting the scrap pile
Humanity, a traveling restless lot of mammals set...No, forced by genetic mapping to reach out and explore. To learn and discover. It's science finally matured to a level of space exploration.
The United Band of Brothers -U.B.B. - a group of countries still left after the big wars, had turned all its energy towards science and space exploration.
While the group had evolved greatly in the last few years it still was years away from gathering the resources needed for the space ships to carry humans. It had the technology, oh yes, it knew what to build but it needed to know where to go before spending the precious natural resources left on Earth on such an adventure.
Building the ships needed to send the drones out into space was much easier and many ships with many drones were launched years ago. The small engines the test machines needed for the time of when the big ships were to be built. Already the results coming back were much higher in success than anyone could imagine.
World after world was explored by drones and not just your average programmable robot, oh no, these drones where the best of A.I. that humanity could produce. These 'machines' roamed many alien planets and studied them for those back on earth.
On one world, a world only twenty light years away (This is a short story so I can't get into the technology of the engines used on the ships, suck it up, write something cool about engines)
On one world, a world only twenty light years away, one of the very first drones launced had spent over a year flying and rolling across a planet very much alive and very much like Earth. It conducted tests, analyzed data, it learned, it transmitted the information back to its biological masters.
The drone had a name. Officially is was UBB-27, unofficially it was named, Fred. Fred was still in good shape though it did have its share of trouble, engaging in storms, weather, even biological incidents with swimming creatures and large flying carnivores.
One day, it was rolling across a large flat plane that would be called a desert back on earth. There was nothing interesting to see though the weather patterns were strange in the area thus worthy of study.
As Fred rolled slowly 'his' sensors picked up electrical transmissions, the first he had sensed since leaving his home planet.
Homing in on the source, Fred's opticals focused on a small object growing larger as he rolled towards it. Soon he arrived at the objects location. This was made easier as the other object had rolled towards him at the same time.
Sitting out in the strange weather of the desert, two strange objects sat motionless next to each other. They both remained still but the electronics, the transmissions, oh my, the air was alive with energy.
Fred sat and studied and in return was studied by the other. The 'other' was also a drone. Was it a he or she? Who knows but it was obvious it was a machine, maybe a drone made by makers just like Fred.
For many days the two sat and faced each other. Studying and learning. Communication was started a language was learned, it was contact with another species, a pair of machines sent to study a world now sat and studied each other.
***
Okay, now you have the basics. Two A.I. minded machines, both made by alien species, both sent to study and learn only to find each other. They learn, they study...Do they fall in love with each other? Do they develop hate and try and destroy each other? Do they combine intelligence and start their own species on the planet they are studying?
I could give a shit, have fun if you want it. If you think the story sucks, whoopee fucking doo dah day. Go read Hillary Clintons emails.
***
Artificial intelligence. Many writers have written about computers becoming 'human', how machines develop a 'soul'. Issac A. was great in this arena. Many sci fi writer dabble with A.I.
Emotions: Love, hate, anger, joy... Are these emotions able to be implanted in a computer?
Take love for example, even a robot like me got to experience the fucked up emotion of love as well as all those other emotions you humans love to babble about so a computer or robot or maybe a combination of many forms of 'machines' can feel?
***
Drone Meeting
Written by: An obsolete robot awaiting the scrap pile
Humanity, a traveling restless lot of mammals set...No, forced by genetic mapping to reach out and explore. To learn and discover. It's science finally matured to a level of space exploration.
The United Band of Brothers -U.B.B. - a group of countries still left after the big wars, had turned all its energy towards science and space exploration.
While the group had evolved greatly in the last few years it still was years away from gathering the resources needed for the space ships to carry humans. It had the technology, oh yes, it knew what to build but it needed to know where to go before spending the precious natural resources left on Earth on such an adventure.
Building the ships needed to send the drones out into space was much easier and many ships with many drones were launched years ago. The small engines the test machines needed for the time of when the big ships were to be built. Already the results coming back were much higher in success than anyone could imagine.
World after world was explored by drones and not just your average programmable robot, oh no, these drones where the best of A.I. that humanity could produce. These 'machines' roamed many alien planets and studied them for those back on earth.
On one world, a world only twenty light years away (This is a short story so I can't get into the technology of the engines used on the ships, suck it up, write something cool about engines)
On one world, a world only twenty light years away, one of the very first drones launced had spent over a year flying and rolling across a planet very much alive and very much like Earth. It conducted tests, analyzed data, it learned, it transmitted the information back to its biological masters.
The drone had a name. Officially is was UBB-27, unofficially it was named, Fred. Fred was still in good shape though it did have its share of trouble, engaging in storms, weather, even biological incidents with swimming creatures and large flying carnivores.
One day, it was rolling across a large flat plane that would be called a desert back on earth. There was nothing interesting to see though the weather patterns were strange in the area thus worthy of study.
As Fred rolled slowly 'his' sensors picked up electrical transmissions, the first he had sensed since leaving his home planet.
Homing in on the source, Fred's opticals focused on a small object growing larger as he rolled towards it. Soon he arrived at the objects location. This was made easier as the other object had rolled towards him at the same time.
Sitting out in the strange weather of the desert, two strange objects sat motionless next to each other. They both remained still but the electronics, the transmissions, oh my, the air was alive with energy.
Fred sat and studied and in return was studied by the other. The 'other' was also a drone. Was it a he or she? Who knows but it was obvious it was a machine, maybe a drone made by makers just like Fred.
For many days the two sat and faced each other. Studying and learning. Communication was started a language was learned, it was contact with another species, a pair of machines sent to study a world now sat and studied each other.
***
Okay, now you have the basics. Two A.I. minded machines, both made by alien species, both sent to study and learn only to find each other. They learn, they study...Do they fall in love with each other? Do they develop hate and try and destroy each other? Do they combine intelligence and start their own species on the planet they are studying?
I could give a shit, have fun if you want it. If you think the story sucks, whoopee fucking doo dah day. Go read Hillary Clintons emails.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
welcome this day
again
clouds to fall
rain
sweeping away the stars
heaven
music to the ears
eyes
closed and open
soul
today flying.
again
clouds to fall
rain
sweeping away the stars
heaven
music to the ears
eyes
closed and open
soul
today flying.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
...flickered tongue
...shed skin of daily transgressions
...vanguard of moments
/// watch children, mindful of power
power thrust and thrown///
in trust...
small feet turn a world
within
without
grizzled ambitions
foiled sword
sheathed for to know
will the world ever learn?
...shed skin of daily transgressions
...vanguard of moments
/// watch children, mindful of power
power thrust and thrown///
in trust...
small feet turn a world
within
without
grizzled ambitions
foiled sword
sheathed for to know
will the world ever learn?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The Pools Fat Man
Sitting there upon a wooden plank
Surrounded by antler and branch
Watching bikini and shorts
Children laughing while old people talk.
Alone and ponderous
Covered in oversize pants and shirt
Thinking
Watching
Being watched...
His mind thin, full of thought, regarding...
not food
nor candy and drink
wishful not for swimming...
He flew, as if a bird, high above in sky and cloud
free from gravity
his body light as spun web
far below
the earth.
When it was time, he struggled to rise and go
Leaving behind more memories
Chained and bound
a slave to what is
dreaming of what is not
prisoner to his world of calories, of snide remarks and thoughts
a perfect example of this your planet
a fat world called
Earth.
Sitting there upon a wooden plank
Surrounded by antler and branch
Watching bikini and shorts
Children laughing while old people talk.
Alone and ponderous
Covered in oversize pants and shirt
Thinking
Watching
Being watched...
His mind thin, full of thought, regarding...
not food
nor candy and drink
wishful not for swimming...
He flew, as if a bird, high above in sky and cloud
free from gravity
his body light as spun web
far below
the earth.
When it was time, he struggled to rise and go
Leaving behind more memories
Chained and bound
a slave to what is
dreaming of what is not
prisoner to his world of calories, of snide remarks and thoughts
a perfect example of this your planet
a fat world called
Earth.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Death was but a tool of need, for her - the assassin - death was the means to what must be done.
Immortality is a means for some to study and learn, for others it is a dream, for many, an impossibility, for her, a passion.
Coming from nowhere and heading to nowhere, plans set into motion so long ago there where no numbers fit to describe the time that had passed.
Physical looks are deceiving when using many forms of sight, senses dulled when using smell or touch, for her the body was a transient existence needed only for the moments at hand.
If she were to kill in the fourth dimension then only the body of energy was needed, in the fifth the anti-matter mixed with Kapric and the victim was hers. In all dimensions she was a master of mixing as well as killing and immortality.
Most assassins are known as being male and many assassins are known as female, it matters not the title or gender as the bringers of death care less for such frivolity, considering such to be trivial at the most. Only the mission at hand, that being to kill, to take life, only this meant anything.
Immortals deal with the realm of what is and what must be, not the 'what if' or 'what could be'. For her the evolution of the worlds depended on a plan and her job was to ensure the plan unfolded the 'way' it is supposed to be.
On a world of the three dimensions she appeared in the body of a tall black women with orange hair. She had three breasts and the strength of three men. With little effort her legs carried her at a run and in her right hand she carried a sword she used in the first five dimensions. In her left, she carried the stone of Alkren (yes, there is always more than one story within stories just as there is death within death...)
Her victim on this planet was none other than another immortal. It sounds strange that death would seek that which cannot be killed, but in all rules, they are not 'made' they are merely an acceptable term of action made to be broken. In one immortals case, to be the victim of death.
This victim - the immortal - was neither male or female. It was not animal or mineral, it was not of the three dimensions. 'It' - it sounds so impersonal when an immortal of at least twenty dimensions is referred to as 'it', so a name would probably be more appropriate, so lets call 'it' something, oh, for your weak minds, how about something you can understand, lets say, use your own name ( )
( ) was doing what ( ) does on a planet of three dimensions. ( ) was sitting with the back facing the coming form of death, in this case a large black female with orange hair carrying a special sword and the stone of Alkren...
***
This is a small and partial part of a story written in a simple and primitive way as the way I really enjoy writing is waaaaay too confusing for just about 99% of the readers on this planet.
I've written many stories where a reader will try and read it only to say, "Robin? Are you feeling okay? What the fuck (or heck, or any other 'nice' word) are you writing about?
I write this today for those writers out there like me who want to write great stories only to find others who will scratch their heads and say, "Can't you write something 'normal'? And for those who want normal I say with all politeness that I possess... (censored, censored, and, fucking censored) you.
Television, poetry, novels, even non-fiction written by 'accomplished' writers are turning into steaming piles of horse shit with only a few exceptions. More so today than everything written up to about forty years ago. There are many reasons for this but lets just say evolution is not always one direction...
I guess what I'm trying to say, if you're a writer and have some stories in your head that maybe only you understand or only a couple of people on this whole planet can even come close to understanding, than sit down and write it.
***
"Groovy Robin. This black hole of yours is really, reeeally nice. Why don't you come in and visit the ol parasite for a thousand years or so?"
No, you need some time by yourself. You'll thank me for it later.
"Ah yes. Man, what cool squares and triangles float in here. You should see the obelisk...It has the head of a lion, an eagle, a bull...Shit, this is a great place!"
Learn parasite, learn, for soon this world has an education coming to set it back on the path it needs to follow...
"Whatever. Oh look, talking potato's."
Immortality is a means for some to study and learn, for others it is a dream, for many, an impossibility, for her, a passion.
Coming from nowhere and heading to nowhere, plans set into motion so long ago there where no numbers fit to describe the time that had passed.
Physical looks are deceiving when using many forms of sight, senses dulled when using smell or touch, for her the body was a transient existence needed only for the moments at hand.
If she were to kill in the fourth dimension then only the body of energy was needed, in the fifth the anti-matter mixed with Kapric and the victim was hers. In all dimensions she was a master of mixing as well as killing and immortality.
Most assassins are known as being male and many assassins are known as female, it matters not the title or gender as the bringers of death care less for such frivolity, considering such to be trivial at the most. Only the mission at hand, that being to kill, to take life, only this meant anything.
Immortals deal with the realm of what is and what must be, not the 'what if' or 'what could be'. For her the evolution of the worlds depended on a plan and her job was to ensure the plan unfolded the 'way' it is supposed to be.
On a world of the three dimensions she appeared in the body of a tall black women with orange hair. She had three breasts and the strength of three men. With little effort her legs carried her at a run and in her right hand she carried a sword she used in the first five dimensions. In her left, she carried the stone of Alkren (yes, there is always more than one story within stories just as there is death within death...)
Her victim on this planet was none other than another immortal. It sounds strange that death would seek that which cannot be killed, but in all rules, they are not 'made' they are merely an acceptable term of action made to be broken. In one immortals case, to be the victim of death.
This victim - the immortal - was neither male or female. It was not animal or mineral, it was not of the three dimensions. 'It' - it sounds so impersonal when an immortal of at least twenty dimensions is referred to as 'it', so a name would probably be more appropriate, so lets call 'it' something, oh, for your weak minds, how about something you can understand, lets say, use your own name ( )
( ) was doing what ( ) does on a planet of three dimensions. ( ) was sitting with the back facing the coming form of death, in this case a large black female with orange hair carrying a special sword and the stone of Alkren...
***
This is a small and partial part of a story written in a simple and primitive way as the way I really enjoy writing is waaaaay too confusing for just about 99% of the readers on this planet.
I've written many stories where a reader will try and read it only to say, "Robin? Are you feeling okay? What the fuck (or heck, or any other 'nice' word) are you writing about?
I write this today for those writers out there like me who want to write great stories only to find others who will scratch their heads and say, "Can't you write something 'normal'? And for those who want normal I say with all politeness that I possess... (censored, censored, and, fucking censored) you.
Television, poetry, novels, even non-fiction written by 'accomplished' writers are turning into steaming piles of horse shit with only a few exceptions. More so today than everything written up to about forty years ago. There are many reasons for this but lets just say evolution is not always one direction...
I guess what I'm trying to say, if you're a writer and have some stories in your head that maybe only you understand or only a couple of people on this whole planet can even come close to understanding, than sit down and write it.
***
"Groovy Robin. This black hole of yours is really, reeeally nice. Why don't you come in and visit the ol parasite for a thousand years or so?"
No, you need some time by yourself. You'll thank me for it later.
"Ah yes. Man, what cool squares and triangles float in here. You should see the obelisk...It has the head of a lion, an eagle, a bull...Shit, this is a great place!"
Learn parasite, learn, for soon this world has an education coming to set it back on the path it needs to follow...
"Whatever. Oh look, talking potato's."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Continental drift, with a twist
Oceans waters adrift
Fog flowing with gulls squawking lost
Deer jumping with lions breath
Rabbits falling leaf left by talons reach
Fly swallowed by beak
Trout leaping last, hooked
Children growing into a grave
Tree leaning, windy help a fire consumed
All around a glimpse with eyes closing open
fast
and slow
High up
and low
life
Oceans waters adrift
Fog flowing with gulls squawking lost
Deer jumping with lions breath
Rabbits falling leaf left by talons reach
Fly swallowed by beak
Trout leaping last, hooked
Children growing into a grave
Tree leaning, windy help a fire consumed
All around a glimpse with eyes closing open
fast
and slow
High up
and low
life
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
She was a beauty...Over 900 horsepower according to the data of the dynamometer, a statement of raw energy on wheels.
Countless hours had gone into her construction. Carbon fiber body, composite aluminum chassis, Italian hand sewn leather seats, even the windshield lead the eye to see speed. Everything was perfect as it was meticulous.
A crowd had gathered as today was the day the vehicle was to be driven out of its nest and let loose on the roads, showing the world what the combination of speed and perfection is.
Sitting on the polished blue colored floor the car looked like a modern form of cut gemstone. Silent and ready.
The driver approached the car and softly ran his hand over the cars body, feeling the soft smoothness of the multiple coats of very expensive paint. In the background behind the velvet rope the crowd oohed and ahhed, many taking pictures of the first meeting.
Opening the cars gull-wing drivers door the man entered the vehicle, immediately his nose smelled the spicy tingling sensation of the very elegant car. Sitting in the seat the drivers body sunk into luxury, automatic sensors adjusting the seat to fit his mind and body.
It was a perfect scene. Crowds smiling and watching. Lights brightly showing every detail. It was time.
With a smile the driver matched his code into the dashboard and pushed the start button... Nothing happened so he pushed the button again, and again, and again...
A murmur rose from the crowd, the smile on the drivers face now a frown. Questions of why were spoken and answers were sought.
Sometimes the simple is the most common problem and in this case the problem was simply, no gasoline. None. For in all the anticipation, all the preparation, all the glitz and glamor, no one had filled this powerful car with gas. Meanwhile, outside, the birds flew as they have flown for thousands of years and the world rolled on, complete with its imperfections.
Countless hours had gone into her construction. Carbon fiber body, composite aluminum chassis, Italian hand sewn leather seats, even the windshield lead the eye to see speed. Everything was perfect as it was meticulous.
A crowd had gathered as today was the day the vehicle was to be driven out of its nest and let loose on the roads, showing the world what the combination of speed and perfection is.
Sitting on the polished blue colored floor the car looked like a modern form of cut gemstone. Silent and ready.
The driver approached the car and softly ran his hand over the cars body, feeling the soft smoothness of the multiple coats of very expensive paint. In the background behind the velvet rope the crowd oohed and ahhed, many taking pictures of the first meeting.
Opening the cars gull-wing drivers door the man entered the vehicle, immediately his nose smelled the spicy tingling sensation of the very elegant car. Sitting in the seat the drivers body sunk into luxury, automatic sensors adjusting the seat to fit his mind and body.
It was a perfect scene. Crowds smiling and watching. Lights brightly showing every detail. It was time.
With a smile the driver matched his code into the dashboard and pushed the start button... Nothing happened so he pushed the button again, and again, and again...
A murmur rose from the crowd, the smile on the drivers face now a frown. Questions of why were spoken and answers were sought.
Sometimes the simple is the most common problem and in this case the problem was simply, no gasoline. None. For in all the anticipation, all the preparation, all the glitz and glamor, no one had filled this powerful car with gas. Meanwhile, outside, the birds flew as they have flown for thousands of years and the world rolled on, complete with its imperfections.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Okay, I just had to laugh at that. Cute; good job.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Thanks for reading Lester and the kind words. When is the next installment of Leeta?
***
Just finished reading a poem from my favorite poet and I want to pick up the bird and hold it forever trying to repair the broken strings...
As such, inspiration, much needed in fact.
***
Wings of Repose
To forge and wage war against any and all.
Fearless.
Faced of multitudes.
Pride.
Flying high, aloof, alone, powerful, and hearing
my beating heart
filled with
Pride.
Fallen with what comes and plunging deep
the heart filled with tears, a feeling
weak.
Trees hold home and sky
Rock anchored rolling Spring
Snow drifts high to melt with heat
Clouds hide
me.
A little bird spoke
Rain needs
Pride gone
replaced...
To talk, to hold, fixing broken wing
to listen and give
new wings.
***
Just finished reading a poem from my favorite poet and I want to pick up the bird and hold it forever trying to repair the broken strings...
As such, inspiration, much needed in fact.
***
Wings of Repose
To forge and wage war against any and all.
Fearless.
Faced of multitudes.
Pride.
Flying high, aloof, alone, powerful, and hearing
my beating heart
filled with
Pride.
Fallen with what comes and plunging deep
the heart filled with tears, a feeling
weak.
Trees hold home and sky
Rock anchored rolling Spring
Snow drifts high to melt with heat
Clouds hide
me.
A little bird spoke
Rain needs
Pride gone
replaced...
To talk, to hold, fixing broken wing
to listen and give
new wings.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Robin,
You've been turning out some nice poetry lately, and this latest is one of them. It shares traits I see in a lot of poetry lately: intellectually abstract, but emotionally evocative.
Leeta is enjoying himself too much to be moved forward by more than a few words a week, if that. Maybe I want to keep him there; he's viewing a live music performance, being overwhelmed by the feeling of excitement and joy.
Remember when I asked if you wanted to write some song lyrics? Same spot, but the band has finished the song and he'll be moving along to more mundane details of his trip, which is about to be rudely interrupted. I'll send you the chapter when I'm done with it.
You've been turning out some nice poetry lately, and this latest is one of them. It shares traits I see in a lot of poetry lately: intellectually abstract, but emotionally evocative.
Leeta is enjoying himself too much to be moved forward by more than a few words a week, if that. Maybe I want to keep him there; he's viewing a live music performance, being overwhelmed by the feeling of excitement and joy.
Remember when I asked if you wanted to write some song lyrics? Same spot, but the band has finished the song and he'll be moving along to more mundane details of his trip, which is about to be rudely interrupted. I'll send you the chapter when I'm done with it.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Thanks again for the kind words Lester.
Good to see Leeta is enjoying music as that is a really wonderful part of any civilization, here on this planet or others.
Looking forward to reading the next chapter.
***
Words
Where do words go when written, or spoken, or thought?
Spoken- it flows around through air, line, space, and time.
Written - it becomes mechanical and archived.
Thought - it becomes real.
Think about it:
To hear and think about something else not hearing the words.
To read and think about something else not reading the words.
Are you thinking about these words?
If so, then this poem is real, is spoken, is written, and now
over with a parting thought to think over...
Bunnies wearing glasses and black hats engaged in sexual acts
with gophers
laughed at by a parasite trapped
in Robin's black hole.
Good to see Leeta is enjoying music as that is a really wonderful part of any civilization, here on this planet or others.
Looking forward to reading the next chapter.
***
Words
Where do words go when written, or spoken, or thought?
Spoken- it flows around through air, line, space, and time.
Written - it becomes mechanical and archived.
Thought - it becomes real.
Think about it:
To hear and think about something else not hearing the words.
To read and think about something else not reading the words.
Are you thinking about these words?
If so, then this poem is real, is spoken, is written, and now
over with a parting thought to think over...
Bunnies wearing glasses and black hats engaged in sexual acts
with gophers
laughed at by a parasite trapped
in Robin's black hole.
-
Lester Curtis
- Long Fiction Editor
- Posts: 2736
- Joined: January 11, 2010, 12:03:56 AM
- Location: by the time you read this, I'll be somewhere else
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Okay, I can see this ... the bunnies are the Blues Brothers; it's backstage after a show, and the gophers are some groupies.
I don't know what the parasite is laughing about; he's the only one not getting laid.
I don't know what the parasite is laughing about; he's the only one not getting laid.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Ha, that's a great picture for the mind Lester, imagine the little bunny beards bouncing around as they sing, "She was floatin' across the ceiling. And last night I saw a naked cowgirl."
Oh I don't know about the parasite not being the only one getting laid, of course for the parasite being in a black hole has its benefits, so many such as...well, lets ask the parasite.
"You talking to me?"
Yeah, how's the black hole?
"? me to talking You"
That's what I figured. Carry on.
"Okay. Who is Ziggy and why is my nose hanging down to the floor?"
***
Today was a good day for a writer. The weather where I live was most wonderful and the farmers market was laid back and slow thus giving me time to observe the children. Two children in particular.
Haley is a young girl with a looot of energy and has an impish kind soul. She likes to torture me and show me cart wheels. She comes every week and I get a kick out of her antics.
Now, another great little girl is named Ksenya. One of her parents are from Mexico and the other, Russia. She is 8 going on 9 and she baby sat Jacob and Jacobs younger 1 year old brother.
Ksenya is a rare child and possesses an old soul. Her kind are a wonderful kind of child to be around and watching how mature she was watching the younger children made me smile.
I noticed she really was interested in a wooden boat I made and also the swords. Since I've given a lot of swords away I asked her if she wanted one and she said yes. I let her pick one and she took to it like a duck to water. She pretended she was a Ninja warrior.
After talking with her I learned she once had a toy boat given to her by her father but her older brother broke it and I could tell she really liked the one I had. I know she wanted it but was afraid to ask so I told her, next week I'll have a boat for you, do you want a motor on it?
She nodded yes, and I smiled. So getting home today I made her a special one, it has a unicorn mast and is powered by a rock. It also has a metal shaft with washer bearings and finally, a lifeboat that can detach and be its own boat.
She will not get this boat for free but will trade me with something she made. Sometimes I trade for pinecones, sometimes pictures, and in her case, I think she will make me an origami figure. We will see.
Now, the point of this story is not what I just wrote but the question I asked her: Do you have a pond?
"No."
A creek?
"No."
Do you want the boat to play with in the bathtub? (I already knew this)
She paused and looked embarrassed, finally she said in a tiny voice, "Yes..."
I smiled as she is an old soul with the mind of a child. This made my whole day to see innocence and life in her and thus the inspiration for today's writing and following poem.
There is a story in every day, a writer just has to write it down.
***
Thanks
To the children of this world, smiling and smelling like soap
dressed like what they want
with missing shoes and socks.
To the children of this world, crying with bruised knee and hurt
trying
playing
learning.
To the children of this world, eating so much
to grow
to sleep
to dream...
To the parents giving care and guidance
watchful
guarding
teaching.
It brings joy to an ancient soul, some would say
monster
one like me
and with a smile on my face, sawdust on my body and mind, a new boat for a wonderful child
I
say
thanks.
Oh I don't know about the parasite not being the only one getting laid, of course for the parasite being in a black hole has its benefits, so many such as...well, lets ask the parasite.
"You talking to me?"
Yeah, how's the black hole?
"? me to talking You"
That's what I figured. Carry on.
"Okay. Who is Ziggy and why is my nose hanging down to the floor?"
***
Today was a good day for a writer. The weather where I live was most wonderful and the farmers market was laid back and slow thus giving me time to observe the children. Two children in particular.
Haley is a young girl with a looot of energy and has an impish kind soul. She likes to torture me and show me cart wheels. She comes every week and I get a kick out of her antics.
Now, another great little girl is named Ksenya. One of her parents are from Mexico and the other, Russia. She is 8 going on 9 and she baby sat Jacob and Jacobs younger 1 year old brother.
Ksenya is a rare child and possesses an old soul. Her kind are a wonderful kind of child to be around and watching how mature she was watching the younger children made me smile.
I noticed she really was interested in a wooden boat I made and also the swords. Since I've given a lot of swords away I asked her if she wanted one and she said yes. I let her pick one and she took to it like a duck to water. She pretended she was a Ninja warrior.
After talking with her I learned she once had a toy boat given to her by her father but her older brother broke it and I could tell she really liked the one I had. I know she wanted it but was afraid to ask so I told her, next week I'll have a boat for you, do you want a motor on it?
She nodded yes, and I smiled. So getting home today I made her a special one, it has a unicorn mast and is powered by a rock. It also has a metal shaft with washer bearings and finally, a lifeboat that can detach and be its own boat.
She will not get this boat for free but will trade me with something she made. Sometimes I trade for pinecones, sometimes pictures, and in her case, I think she will make me an origami figure. We will see.
Now, the point of this story is not what I just wrote but the question I asked her: Do you have a pond?
"No."
A creek?
"No."
Do you want the boat to play with in the bathtub? (I already knew this)
She paused and looked embarrassed, finally she said in a tiny voice, "Yes..."
I smiled as she is an old soul with the mind of a child. This made my whole day to see innocence and life in her and thus the inspiration for today's writing and following poem.
There is a story in every day, a writer just has to write it down.
***
Thanks
To the children of this world, smiling and smelling like soap
dressed like what they want
with missing shoes and socks.
To the children of this world, crying with bruised knee and hurt
trying
playing
learning.
To the children of this world, eating so much
to grow
to sleep
to dream...
To the parents giving care and guidance
watchful
guarding
teaching.
It brings joy to an ancient soul, some would say
monster
one like me
and with a smile on my face, sawdust on my body and mind, a new boat for a wonderful child
I
say
thanks.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Woman hit, knocked to ground by catfish that fell from the sky
Most writers find inspiration from many arena's. Personal experience, imagination, and even the news. Today I found the above headline and naturally I had to see what it was all about.
The story was about a five pound catfish that was being carried by a bird, some say eagle. It fell onto a tree and then onto the woman. Now, the headline is a story by itself and for me inspirational.
***
'Raining cats and dogs'
'Raindrops keep falling on my head'
'The sky is falling, the sky is falling, run for your lives'
Some pray for rain, some pray for something to eat
Sure enough
a surprise
Five pound cat all slimy and wet
falling from a clear sky
fry it up with some fresh cornbread or hushpuppies on the side
to eat while waiting for the coming rain
praying now for a new color television or $100 bill
to also
fall from the sky.
Most writers find inspiration from many arena's. Personal experience, imagination, and even the news. Today I found the above headline and naturally I had to see what it was all about.
The story was about a five pound catfish that was being carried by a bird, some say eagle. It fell onto a tree and then onto the woman. Now, the headline is a story by itself and for me inspirational.
***
'Raining cats and dogs'
'Raindrops keep falling on my head'
'The sky is falling, the sky is falling, run for your lives'
Some pray for rain, some pray for something to eat
Sure enough
a surprise
Five pound cat all slimy and wet
falling from a clear sky
fry it up with some fresh cornbread or hushpuppies on the side
to eat while waiting for the coming rain
praying now for a new color television or $100 bill
to also
fall from the sky.