"Hi numb nuts. Man, you're covered in sawdust. Messing around with beavers?"
Nah, beavers are overated. Think they discovered going union. So what's up with you parasite? Inspired by anything lately?
"No. Same O, same o. Oh, did go play with a comet. Little piece of shit but still cool."
Wanna write something with me?
"Yeah! How about your obituary!"
No.That would be boring.Hey. How about we write about overpaid, spoiled Americans who think their color makes them downtrodden and picked on... NFL. What a bunch of spoiled pukes.
"What's your beef against such firm tight ass and man muscles? Jealous?"
No, don't have a beef against them. Fuck. If they want to sit, squat, or pick their nose while the national anthem is being played...That's A-OK by me...but, it does prove what dicks MOST professional athletes are nowadays. Them and Hollywood types. And then throw in the prima donna's in the author realm. Stephen King for example. Another spoiled American.
Seems like the more money Americans get, the more spoiled they get. Since I'm broke, I'll never have to worry about such shit.
"...Can't we write your obituary? Your idea is, blah, blah, blah, and more fucking...blah."
Nope. You're the writers parasite and I'm...
"What? A writer? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (thud. the parasite fell off a dolphin it was riding)"
Serves you right. Okay, you sit there and drown and I'll write some crap inspired by those idiots who prance around thinking they're downtrodden while getting million dollar salaries.
***
Getting Paid
He woke the Sun, already working the garbage truck, picking up the cans
She served the first child breakfast, one of many of many years, in the cafeteria
He and she, she and he, all across the land
Working for wages almost not worth working
with only a few moments set aside
to complain
America
Land of opportunity and freedom
Freedom to do and say
To work for huge sums or paltry
With frowns or smiles
each day
Off to war go the children of mostly hard working/poorly paid
Off to the fields to pick the harvest where Spanish is spoken plainly
Off to the factories, the mundane,
people of all colors travel
all trying to make a living
the hard way
Enter the actors, the writers, the athletes, the politicians, the elites
Lungs full of opinion while air is in their brains
Politics: Experts
Science: Experts
Religion: Experts
Everything: Experts
All getting PAID
...
My bet is on the hardworking people in American, those trying each and every day
Where a dollar bill; penny; processed cheese; Wonder bread; family; Life
where there is true value in such things
As for those snobs whose idea's are to let others believe they are gods
Let them choke on what they believe
Let them eat their beliefs
Let them be what they want to be,
and thank God, I'll be me
Covered in sawdust and sore
Tired, waiting for a good nights sleep
living in a world where my name, my race, my gender,
don't mean a thing.
Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Halloween. What an interesting custom for some. So many tendrils attached to this moment in time, a time occurring every year.
Little goblins and monsters. Big people parties where booze and costumes blend. Religions. Pagans. People. Humans. All so caught up in shit they don't really, and really cannot, understand.
Funny how that goes. Humans filled with rudimentary knowledge in many arenas. Average IQ of a human is 100. A genius is 200. Now, artificial intelligence in a robot looking human is set to have an IQ of 10,000. And what's so funny about that, is 10,000 is still primitive and not worthy of universal celebration.
"What the fuck Robin... Your IQ is 2, maybe even 1. What the hell are you bullshitting about now?"
Exactly parasite, you prove my point. Your IQ is only .5 (less than mine) and yet you are much more alive than a robot with 10,000 or a genius with 200 or even 300.
The little bird that harassed me today has no IQ equatable to what humans base intelligence on, yet, it was spectacular in its actions.
"And this deals with Halloween, how?"
It deals not with Halloween but with the current moment. A wonderful moment where trees walk with rocks. A moment where the birds practice what they are not allowed to practice the rest of the year. A moment where shadows and light are one. This is a special moment and one I fully embrace. Of course, most moments are indeed special, and needed. Just like the true nature of God...Everything in it's place and time. And thus, so very inspirational.
***
Ornick
Large coils as if serpents passions unfold
Such holes undulating atop clawed granite
Flames found to pierce the dug cavern
Wolves murmur in silence, cowered below, set to run
Moonlight hidden under spread wings
Breathing cloids, weeping dew
Travel well freiend, travel fara
when again the blankets woven weave fulfilled
there rings the bell
again.
Little goblins and monsters. Big people parties where booze and costumes blend. Religions. Pagans. People. Humans. All so caught up in shit they don't really, and really cannot, understand.
Funny how that goes. Humans filled with rudimentary knowledge in many arenas. Average IQ of a human is 100. A genius is 200. Now, artificial intelligence in a robot looking human is set to have an IQ of 10,000. And what's so funny about that, is 10,000 is still primitive and not worthy of universal celebration.
"What the fuck Robin... Your IQ is 2, maybe even 1. What the hell are you bullshitting about now?"
Exactly parasite, you prove my point. Your IQ is only .5 (less than mine) and yet you are much more alive than a robot with 10,000 or a genius with 200 or even 300.
The little bird that harassed me today has no IQ equatable to what humans base intelligence on, yet, it was spectacular in its actions.
"And this deals with Halloween, how?"
It deals not with Halloween but with the current moment. A wonderful moment where trees walk with rocks. A moment where the birds practice what they are not allowed to practice the rest of the year. A moment where shadows and light are one. This is a special moment and one I fully embrace. Of course, most moments are indeed special, and needed. Just like the true nature of God...Everything in it's place and time. And thus, so very inspirational.
***
Ornick
Large coils as if serpents passions unfold
Such holes undulating atop clawed granite
Flames found to pierce the dug cavern
Wolves murmur in silence, cowered below, set to run
Moonlight hidden under spread wings
Breathing cloids, weeping dew
Travel well freiend, travel fara
when again the blankets woven weave fulfilled
there rings the bell
again.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
BOO!
"What the fucks your problem robin? You couldn't scare a... AHHH! You're NAKED! Oh god, please. Make it go away!"
Nope. It's the 'new' me. Like it?
"Hell to the no. Please. Put a paper sack over my head. Beat me. Better yet, I'm outa here."
Happy Halloween parasite. Gonna go pour some concrete...naked. Should be fun. That will scare the crap out of a lot of critters! What do ya think parasite? Parasite? Probaby went to scare some dolophins.
"What the fucks your problem robin? You couldn't scare a... AHHH! You're NAKED! Oh god, please. Make it go away!"
Nope. It's the 'new' me. Like it?
"Hell to the no. Please. Put a paper sack over my head. Beat me. Better yet, I'm outa here."
Happy Halloween parasite. Gonna go pour some concrete...naked. Should be fun. That will scare the crap out of a lot of critters! What do ya think parasite? Parasite? Probaby went to scare some dolophins.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Why are zombies so popular? I mean, sure. There have been some interesting movies and a few good books written but much like vampires; way overdone.
And why do people like to get scared with 'monsters' and such... Monsters don't scare me nor does anything, but if I were to experience fear or get scared, it would probably be human based. And since this is scary night, I suppose if I saw Obama dressed like Hillary and was walking with Michael Moore dressed as Trump... I just might scream and run away.
Now that is what is scary... Politicians! And used car salesmen. And yogurt. And women. And... Interesting. Everything can be scary to someone. Guess it's a good defense mechanism for this species, otherwise if everyone was like me the species would be extinct because there ain't nuthin that scares me...
"BOO!"
(thud)
"Robin? Are you okay? Wake up. (slap, slap, WHACK! kick, punch, pour boiling hot water...) Are you okay?"
Parasite. Why did you dress up like Michael Moore, Trump, Obama, Hillary, AND a clown?
"You said you ain't scared of nuthin and I proved you wrong."
Yes. Yes you did. Now I have to go to my safe place and watch video's of kitten playing with string.
And why do people like to get scared with 'monsters' and such... Monsters don't scare me nor does anything, but if I were to experience fear or get scared, it would probably be human based. And since this is scary night, I suppose if I saw Obama dressed like Hillary and was walking with Michael Moore dressed as Trump... I just might scream and run away.
Now that is what is scary... Politicians! And used car salesmen. And yogurt. And women. And... Interesting. Everything can be scary to someone. Guess it's a good defense mechanism for this species, otherwise if everyone was like me the species would be extinct because there ain't nuthin that scares me...
"BOO!"
(thud)
"Robin? Are you okay? Wake up. (slap, slap, WHACK! kick, punch, pour boiling hot water...) Are you okay?"
Parasite. Why did you dress up like Michael Moore, Trump, Obama, Hillary, AND a clown?
"You said you ain't scared of nuthin and I proved you wrong."
Yes. Yes you did. Now I have to go to my safe place and watch video's of kitten playing with string.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Alien sex. Sure, a lot of stories out there where aliens from the stars engage in coitus with a female (or male) Results in the stories vary but a lot end up with offspring. Bizarre. The DNA differences are so much due to environmental conditions, not to mention how the various species were created. (or evolution, devolution, whatever) it would compare to a monkey fucking a football...literally.
Inspiring though.
***
She was what men would often say, hot. Soft white skin, long red hair, small firm breasts. Everything about her spoke of beauty and seduction. Even when she walked, old men sitting in the park feeding pigeons would stop and smile as those lovely legs moved past.
He was a male. An O'rnick male of the third house of Ti. His planet was a water world, one where the elements were also heavy in hydrogen. His name, of course, no human could speak or even write it. But, for the story it sounded close to, Shssssshssoo.
'S' was also a traveler and on one of his adventures he stopped by for a swim in Earth's oceans. As he was swimming past the island of Hawaii he spotted her... Wow! It was love at first sight.
He transformed himself by rearranging his cellular composition to resemble a human male. Young. Strong. Long black hair, and a smile.
His smile worked and she was soon lost in his gaze, both of them sitting at a small bar near the beach. As they talked, the hands on the clock showed a new day.
In those early morning hours, 'S' blew a gas into her nose which caused her to faint. She lay unconscious and beautiful. Her white blouse revealing hard firm nipples. Her mouth with lips askew and red as an apple. All very attractive.
'S' rearranged his cellular composition back into what he truly was, an alien to Earth. It was then that he engaged in a bizarre sexual ritual... with the beautiful woman's parasite swimming in her lower bowel. The stomach acids a romantic background and perfect setting for the rapid multiplication of DNA, both earthly and alien. Soon, a new lifeform would be born. A new form of tapeworm filled with the yearn to travel and alien men.
Inspiring though.
***
She was what men would often say, hot. Soft white skin, long red hair, small firm breasts. Everything about her spoke of beauty and seduction. Even when she walked, old men sitting in the park feeding pigeons would stop and smile as those lovely legs moved past.
He was a male. An O'rnick male of the third house of Ti. His planet was a water world, one where the elements were also heavy in hydrogen. His name, of course, no human could speak or even write it. But, for the story it sounded close to, Shssssshssoo.
'S' was also a traveler and on one of his adventures he stopped by for a swim in Earth's oceans. As he was swimming past the island of Hawaii he spotted her... Wow! It was love at first sight.
He transformed himself by rearranging his cellular composition to resemble a human male. Young. Strong. Long black hair, and a smile.
His smile worked and she was soon lost in his gaze, both of them sitting at a small bar near the beach. As they talked, the hands on the clock showed a new day.
In those early morning hours, 'S' blew a gas into her nose which caused her to faint. She lay unconscious and beautiful. Her white blouse revealing hard firm nipples. Her mouth with lips askew and red as an apple. All very attractive.
'S' rearranged his cellular composition back into what he truly was, an alien to Earth. It was then that he engaged in a bizarre sexual ritual... with the beautiful woman's parasite swimming in her lower bowel. The stomach acids a romantic background and perfect setting for the rapid multiplication of DNA, both earthly and alien. Soon, a new lifeform would be born. A new form of tapeworm filled with the yearn to travel and alien men.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Caesar's face with blank stair
rendering fat from a land
taxed lamentations where calloused hands
fielded after harvest to lay fallow
winter's season where bounty fails
leaving children in tears
burled muscles once young with strength
aged to needed
with solace of disparity
dispose such thoughts of fancied flights where eagles dare
Icarus fled such life
to drown with lost cause
...
image such foolish thoughts where inside comes happiness with cost
leering jesters laugh with political ambitions
while birds , such simple feathered ideas
soar aloof.
rendering fat from a land
taxed lamentations where calloused hands
fielded after harvest to lay fallow
winter's season where bounty fails
leaving children in tears
burled muscles once young with strength
aged to needed
with solace of disparity
dispose such thoughts of fancied flights where eagles dare
Icarus fled such life
to drown with lost cause
...
image such foolish thoughts where inside comes happiness with cost
leering jesters laugh with political ambitions
while birds , such simple feathered ideas
soar aloof.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
:Sometimes we take ourselves a little too seriously...:
A quote from something recently heard. Simple words with simple truth. Teenagers trying to get rid of pimples and embarrassed by the puss filled mounds. And why? Men losing their hair and trying to make it look thicker. And why? Women with tiny tits trying to look like they have bigger tits. And why? Political views. Religious beliefs. Gender. Race. Age. And why?
Authors too. "Oh my, is it good enough? How can I be a better writer? Should I go to a writing school and bow before some idiot?" It never ends. Humans all so fucking serious. So wound up with a PC world. If I knew I wouldn't go to jail I'd walk around naked. I'd swear in whatever church is handy. I'd do whatever, and yet, why not? Because I sometimes take myself too seriously...
I suppose being serious has it's place which is why writing is so nice. A writer can be whatever serious idiot they want to be in 'real' life and be whatever they want to be when writing. A puritan can write about fucking in orgies and a prostitute can write about a beautiful story of meeting God. Writing to me is the ultimate form of free speech. It is there for others to enjoy or hate. It is. While reality, is it real? Reality is too open to forgetting or change, or misinterpretation, while the written word is there until it can no longer be legible or read.
It is no wonder many governments ban books. Hitler burned a lot of books. Entire libraries such as the library of Alexander, were destroyed. Even today, just look at how the education system in America is banning books. Dr. Zeus, Mark Twain... Too many serious individuals combining to influence their power over the written word. To those people I say, fuck you X ten to the thousandth power..
In all seriousness, I take the freedom of the written word, no matter the content over the tyranny of those imposing reality of the moment. And thus, tonight's inspiration.
***
I have no spaceship or robots
I have no money to buy anything
My beliefs are whatever is chosen
My body hurts from work
It is the daily grind of getting nearer the end of this shells life
It is
and
even though what I do, say, think, am, means nothing to all and everything
even though it all is a fucking game
it is the ability to write, to flow words about whatever, whenever, however...
how fun, how real, how it is
to write
to release as I please
it is
me.
A quote from something recently heard. Simple words with simple truth. Teenagers trying to get rid of pimples and embarrassed by the puss filled mounds. And why? Men losing their hair and trying to make it look thicker. And why? Women with tiny tits trying to look like they have bigger tits. And why? Political views. Religious beliefs. Gender. Race. Age. And why?
Authors too. "Oh my, is it good enough? How can I be a better writer? Should I go to a writing school and bow before some idiot?" It never ends. Humans all so fucking serious. So wound up with a PC world. If I knew I wouldn't go to jail I'd walk around naked. I'd swear in whatever church is handy. I'd do whatever, and yet, why not? Because I sometimes take myself too seriously...
I suppose being serious has it's place which is why writing is so nice. A writer can be whatever serious idiot they want to be in 'real' life and be whatever they want to be when writing. A puritan can write about fucking in orgies and a prostitute can write about a beautiful story of meeting God. Writing to me is the ultimate form of free speech. It is there for others to enjoy or hate. It is. While reality, is it real? Reality is too open to forgetting or change, or misinterpretation, while the written word is there until it can no longer be legible or read.
It is no wonder many governments ban books. Hitler burned a lot of books. Entire libraries such as the library of Alexander, were destroyed. Even today, just look at how the education system in America is banning books. Dr. Zeus, Mark Twain... Too many serious individuals combining to influence their power over the written word. To those people I say, fuck you X ten to the thousandth power..
In all seriousness, I take the freedom of the written word, no matter the content over the tyranny of those imposing reality of the moment. And thus, tonight's inspiration.
***
I have no spaceship or robots
I have no money to buy anything
My beliefs are whatever is chosen
My body hurts from work
It is the daily grind of getting nearer the end of this shells life
It is
and
even though what I do, say, think, am, means nothing to all and everything
even though it all is a fucking game
it is the ability to write, to flow words about whatever, whenever, however...
how fun, how real, how it is
to write
to release as I please
it is
me.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
With morning comes hello to visible traveler of cloud and sky
where bird shakes off morning dew
mice stir to wonder of food
deer drink
awake
Hello day, this day, another
where work awaits
boards to form
diet soda
awake
This is good with clouds, sky, birds, mice, deer, work, boards, diet soda
awake
Hello morning, it's
me.
where bird shakes off morning dew
mice stir to wonder of food
deer drink
awake
Hello day, this day, another
where work awaits
boards to form
diet soda
awake
This is good with clouds, sky, birds, mice, deer, work, boards, diet soda
awake
Hello morning, it's
me.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Semper Fi Marines! Today is the USMC birthday. Back in the tavern. Back when Marines wore leather collars on ships to help protect against sword blades. (thus the name, leathernecks)
A good organization. I talk with the 'newer' bunch from time to time and see it still is the same. Glad to see Trump likes our military unlike the idiot puppet master, Obama.
Amazing how in such small time periods of four year terms a country can go from being American to socialist/communist, and back to American. But, this newer generation of idiots want socialism. Too bad they don't realize that they will get what they want.
Will Marines be here in 200 years? For that matter, America? Of course, the answer is, no. Rome always falls and thus the inspiration.
***
Orgies of self where self gets what self wants
Not what it needs
what it craves
Seeded by desire and weakness
Fertile grounds sterilized by growth of nothing intrinsic
Rusted sacrifice breaking into dusty pieces
Hail Caesar!
Hail the self choice of mindless determination
Failed consequences where all is numb
America, Rome, Sweden, Germany, Ottoman, Ming...
Ha!
Give me the sword and strength to destroy it all
strength of human blood ensuring a new ground
of trampled flowers...
A good organization. I talk with the 'newer' bunch from time to time and see it still is the same. Glad to see Trump likes our military unlike the idiot puppet master, Obama.
Amazing how in such small time periods of four year terms a country can go from being American to socialist/communist, and back to American. But, this newer generation of idiots want socialism. Too bad they don't realize that they will get what they want.
Will Marines be here in 200 years? For that matter, America? Of course, the answer is, no. Rome always falls and thus the inspiration.
***
Orgies of self where self gets what self wants
Not what it needs
what it craves
Seeded by desire and weakness
Fertile grounds sterilized by growth of nothing intrinsic
Rusted sacrifice breaking into dusty pieces
Hail Caesar!
Hail the self choice of mindless determination
Failed consequences where all is numb
America, Rome, Sweden, Germany, Ottoman, Ming...
Ha!
Give me the sword and strength to destroy it all
strength of human blood ensuring a new ground
of trampled flowers...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Humor. Probably one of the best features to represent the face of humanity. Damn, it's so fun to laugh.
Just got back from the new Thor movie. Noticed the film makers are embracing humor more and more in action movies to compliment the never-ending special effects.
It was a fun movie and inspirational. Loved how the women warriors were so nuanced and comfortable in being not only able, but fallible and funny. The Valkyrie was definitely enjoyable. And thus, inspiration.
***
Booze and battle
Back and before
Below blows
Beckoning
Bed
Blustery balance
Beginning
but
Beware
Both bubble
Brimming boil
Blasting.
Just got back from the new Thor movie. Noticed the film makers are embracing humor more and more in action movies to compliment the never-ending special effects.
It was a fun movie and inspirational. Loved how the women warriors were so nuanced and comfortable in being not only able, but fallible and funny. The Valkyrie was definitely enjoyable. And thus, inspiration.
***
Booze and battle
Back and before
Below blows
Beckoning
Bed
Blustery balance
Beginning
but
Beware
Both bubble
Brimming boil
Blasting.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Many words in various languages are strange. In the English the word, oh, one such word.
"Oh Robin, you're a moron."
"Oh oh... I spilled acid on the keyboard."
"Oh baby!"
"Oh boy."
"Oh no."
"Oh, oh, oh... Harder!"
"Oh shit."
A lot of 'oh's' Enough to drive me crazy. Wait a minute. Oh, yeah. I already drove there.
"Oh Robin, you're a moron."
"Oh oh... I spilled acid on the keyboard."
"Oh baby!"
"Oh boy."
"Oh no."
"Oh, oh, oh... Harder!"
"Oh shit."
A lot of 'oh's' Enough to drive me crazy. Wait a minute. Oh, yeah. I already drove there.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The moon this morning was like a shallow plate, filled with brightening light and spilled stars off the brim
Below danced dew sprites
while
chimney's puffed in indifference
nice
Below danced dew sprites
while
chimney's puffed in indifference
nice
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
The Hunters
Dressed like shaking leaves, green as if Spring or Summer
Walking the fallen yellow
armed with rifles, scopes, range finders, knife, map, compass; a human army
From afar they came to find and take
birds
deer
anything presenting
Dawn to dusk, they search, hunting
Up the hill, down the canyon
seeking the trail towards success
At home I sit in comfort, laughing
outside, the quail run, the chukars fly,
the deer in the fields, playing and munching
They arrive home late, those hunters back from hunting
Wet clothes and equipment, torn map, low on gas,
energy depleted, and hungry
Feasting on elk and chanetrelle, rice and gravy
all from the fridge, freezer, and pantry
talking of the day, where their hands are clean of blood and the game bags
empty.
Dressed like shaking leaves, green as if Spring or Summer
Walking the fallen yellow
armed with rifles, scopes, range finders, knife, map, compass; a human army
From afar they came to find and take
birds
deer
anything presenting
Dawn to dusk, they search, hunting
Up the hill, down the canyon
seeking the trail towards success
At home I sit in comfort, laughing
outside, the quail run, the chukars fly,
the deer in the fields, playing and munching
They arrive home late, those hunters back from hunting
Wet clothes and equipment, torn map, low on gas,
energy depleted, and hungry
Feasting on elk and chanetrelle, rice and gravy
all from the fridge, freezer, and pantry
talking of the day, where their hands are clean of blood and the game bags
empty.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
lliaman task where razor thin the line
so this thread often tangled
straighten a moons shadow
when sword of mjust till dawn disperse
there the light smiles
citizens benign with living illness
gripping seed hardened with seasons waste
comes now and then
a song.
so this thread often tangled
straighten a moons shadow
when sword of mjust till dawn disperse
there the light smiles
citizens benign with living illness
gripping seed hardened with seasons waste
comes now and then
a song.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Humanities Soul
From within borne with winds of God's whisper
Howls
Storm force clouds, blacken tainted blooud
fingers reaching nipple and lip
suckling
Laws fo of full lull, sleepy sounds of paternal needs
foundd with biological success
"Ha," angels laughing\\
futile reality where kings should kneel and queens hide behind curtain and hood
Marked stones sting
such energy
Change?
More so a star becomes lost in blackness
or''
a serpent coils in love
answered with riddles breneth God's hand
linear not nor nothing found
really,
not ready for such to understand.
From within borne with winds of God's whisper
Howls
Storm force clouds, blacken tainted blooud
fingers reaching nipple and lip
suckling
Laws fo of full lull, sleepy sounds of paternal needs
foundd with biological success
"Ha," angels laughing\\
futile reality where kings should kneel and queens hide behind curtain and hood
Marked stones sting
such energy
Change?
More so a star becomes lost in blackness
or''
a serpent coils in love
answered with riddles breneth God's hand
linear not nor nothing found
really,
not ready for such to understand.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Truly inspirational, that being, the death of a demon going by human name: Charles Manson.
For those not believing in evil there are better things then, to read and hide with.
***
Sipherious Tolek
Son of the wingless bitfch with strangled womb of show
He came to taake with gless and glow
women of charlot towed
Beached songs of come, stay, and go
Hellock fcro gate to open moment of blacke nite
"Hell lo lo lo"
A deomon's glow astride
Manosn Manso'on Manson... son of no man
Mothers dried placenta burned
Soul tattered with and for
the Devilled plans
Shell gone to dust as never was
the deomon shall pass this way
again
Rsien only this monring with Sun
Bron with nary sound or why
Death comes for those taken
again
again
again.
For those not believing in evil there are better things then, to read and hide with.
***
Sipherious Tolek
Son of the wingless bitfch with strangled womb of show
He came to taake with gless and glow
women of charlot towed
Beached songs of come, stay, and go
Hellock fcro gate to open moment of blacke nite
"Hell lo lo lo"
A deomon's glow astride
Manosn Manso'on Manson... son of no man
Mothers dried placenta burned
Soul tattered with and for
the Devilled plans
Shell gone to dust as never was
the deomon shall pass this way
again
Rsien only this monring with Sun
Bron with nary sound or why
Death comes for those taken
again
again
again.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Billowing sheets showing
Hung from twine strung
Rain dripping to clean
a memory.
Hung from twine strung
Rain dripping to clean
a memory.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
"Fuck you Robin. Why do you want everyone to have a happy Thanksgiving? For that matter, why do people always say such stupid things as: Happy Thanksgiving, or, Merry Christmas? Bunch of morons if you ask me..."
No one asked you parasite. But just curious, why the hostility tonight?
"Haven't you heard numbnuts that the holiday season brings out the worst in many people?
Uh, yeah? But, you're a parasite. Not even human, so that excuse don't hold no water with me.
"I have some water for you... (pssssss...)
Okay parasite. You stepped over the bounds of civility. No lobster and peanut butter for you tomorrow. In fact, you get a time out in the empty plastic milk jug. Hopefully you'll be more civil when I let you out.
"Damn."
***
Interesting how social traditions are upheld. Even more interesting to see how those traditions are broken such as NFL players sitting and eating banana's during the national anthem. What is sacred and respected one moment is shit upon and derided the next. And people wonder why intelligent life not-of-this-planet have not communicated with the mass of humanity?
Inspirational though.
***
First Contact
Nothing special really. In New York there are many people and of those many people, many strange customs and situations occur daily.
Hookers hooking up with clients and doing really strange sexual acts. Hot dog sellers selling pork waste in a bun to the hungry throngs. People picking up dog shit while wearing little plastic mittens. New York is the perfect representation of the world, the world of humans.
The bum laying in the street soiled in shit and urine could have cared less when a figure appeared out of nowhere, and now, was standing in front of him.
"Hello earthling. I come in peace." the creature said with a plastic smile. Smiling was not a normal function for its species.
"Hello right back at ya... Say, ya got a five spot you can spare? Been down on my luck lately."
"No. I have no five spots nor do I know what luck is, but I do have the gift of cold fusion. Would you like it?"
"Cold fusion?" The bum was perplexed. All he knew was that the word cold reminded him of winter and he HATED winter. So with a true New York (world) attitude, he replied, "Fuck you buddy. I don't want nothing cold unless it is a beer. Got any beer?"
"I have no beer, five spots, and I do not know of this luck you speak of. However, I will respect your customs and leave." And with that the 'alien' vanished and marked Earth of its list of intelligent planets.
Meanwhile the bum breathed a sigh of relief as his bowels opened up again, the warm shit a much better feeling than the coldness of a New York winter.
"Fuck you Robin. Why do you want everyone to have a happy Thanksgiving? For that matter, why do people always say such stupid things as: Happy Thanksgiving, or, Merry Christmas? Bunch of morons if you ask me..."
No one asked you parasite. But just curious, why the hostility tonight?
"Haven't you heard numbnuts that the holiday season brings out the worst in many people?
Uh, yeah? But, you're a parasite. Not even human, so that excuse don't hold no water with me.
"I have some water for you... (pssssss...)
Okay parasite. You stepped over the bounds of civility. No lobster and peanut butter for you tomorrow. In fact, you get a time out in the empty plastic milk jug. Hopefully you'll be more civil when I let you out.
"Damn."
***
Interesting how social traditions are upheld. Even more interesting to see how those traditions are broken such as NFL players sitting and eating banana's during the national anthem. What is sacred and respected one moment is shit upon and derided the next. And people wonder why intelligent life not-of-this-planet have not communicated with the mass of humanity?
Inspirational though.
***
First Contact
Nothing special really. In New York there are many people and of those many people, many strange customs and situations occur daily.
Hookers hooking up with clients and doing really strange sexual acts. Hot dog sellers selling pork waste in a bun to the hungry throngs. People picking up dog shit while wearing little plastic mittens. New York is the perfect representation of the world, the world of humans.
The bum laying in the street soiled in shit and urine could have cared less when a figure appeared out of nowhere, and now, was standing in front of him.
"Hello earthling. I come in peace." the creature said with a plastic smile. Smiling was not a normal function for its species.
"Hello right back at ya... Say, ya got a five spot you can spare? Been down on my luck lately."
"No. I have no five spots nor do I know what luck is, but I do have the gift of cold fusion. Would you like it?"
"Cold fusion?" The bum was perplexed. All he knew was that the word cold reminded him of winter and he HATED winter. So with a true New York (world) attitude, he replied, "Fuck you buddy. I don't want nothing cold unless it is a beer. Got any beer?"
"I have no beer, five spots, and I do not know of this luck you speak of. However, I will respect your customs and leave." And with that the 'alien' vanished and marked Earth of its list of intelligent planets.
Meanwhile the bum breathed a sigh of relief as his bowels opened up again, the warm shit a much better feeling than the coldness of a New York winter.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Watching a movie on the teli called, Snatch. It's about diamond thieves and criminals. It has great actors. Great directing. Great everything to include, a great writer(s).
People used to read and go to plays. (those with money that is) Back in the old days, books were scarce. Paper was valuable. Yet, there was the reliable gathering around the fire to hear of the hunt, the battle, the birth, the death...
Today, we have movies, books, computers, an endless source of stories, news, whatever the imagination can/could desire.
Sex? Porn
Religion? Endless groups promoting whatever form of belief chosen
Business?
The list is endless as is the supply of the written word/video.
It has evolved, this endless source of mind stimulation. Just look at the music for example. Today, the attention span of younger people has now become so saturated they cannot even listen to an entire song without being bored. I personally know some youngsters that have mixed songs together and even then, cannot finish one song before clicking to the next on the list.
Interesting to see how the world of writing has evolved and changed. Along with it all, humanity changes. Some of it good, some of it bad, but regardless, a change from the good old days of fire. And thus, inspiration.
***
The Fire
Inside the soul, the body, the mind
burns]
[there burns the fire
of life
Life inside the body, the mind
glows[
]there freezes such
ambitions
which takes which
fire
or
ice
?
fire burns and consumes
ice numbs and preserves
both
both are needed in this journey traveled
leaving questions to ponder
of other things.
People used to read and go to plays. (those with money that is) Back in the old days, books were scarce. Paper was valuable. Yet, there was the reliable gathering around the fire to hear of the hunt, the battle, the birth, the death...
Today, we have movies, books, computers, an endless source of stories, news, whatever the imagination can/could desire.
Sex? Porn
Religion? Endless groups promoting whatever form of belief chosen
Business?
The list is endless as is the supply of the written word/video.
It has evolved, this endless source of mind stimulation. Just look at the music for example. Today, the attention span of younger people has now become so saturated they cannot even listen to an entire song without being bored. I personally know some youngsters that have mixed songs together and even then, cannot finish one song before clicking to the next on the list.
Interesting to see how the world of writing has evolved and changed. Along with it all, humanity changes. Some of it good, some of it bad, but regardless, a change from the good old days of fire. And thus, inspiration.
***
The Fire
Inside the soul, the body, the mind
burns]
[there burns the fire
of life
Life inside the body, the mind
glows[
]there freezes such
ambitions
which takes which
fire
or
ice
?
fire burns and consumes
ice numbs and preserves
both
both are needed in this journey traveled
leaving questions to ponder
of other things.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey parasite, you can get out of the milk jug now.
"Really? Gee. Golly gee willickers Robin...thanks (mumbling profanities under its breath)"
Wanna go shopping today with me? It's Black Friday. Might get lucking and buy some really cheap plastic crap I don't need.
Sighing the parasite said, "Sure numbnuts. But only if you buy me some Chinese soup."
Deal.
*
Today is Black Friday, a relatively new custom in America where the day after Thanksgiving the store around the country have sales designed to lure people into the store to buy 'stuff'.
I for one, enjoy it greatly. A couple of years ago I bought a vacuum cleaner for $12. Today should be fun AND inspirational.
**
Sale
Half off.
20,30,40,50,60,70,80,90%
off
free.
Waiting for the day though
when they pay me to enter the store
now
THAT
will be a fun day!
"Really? Gee. Golly gee willickers Robin...thanks (mumbling profanities under its breath)"
Wanna go shopping today with me? It's Black Friday. Might get lucking and buy some really cheap plastic crap I don't need.
Sighing the parasite said, "Sure numbnuts. But only if you buy me some Chinese soup."
Deal.
*
Today is Black Friday, a relatively new custom in America where the day after Thanksgiving the store around the country have sales designed to lure people into the store to buy 'stuff'.
I for one, enjoy it greatly. A couple of years ago I bought a vacuum cleaner for $12. Today should be fun AND inspirational.
**
Sale
Half off.
20,30,40,50,60,70,80,90%
off
free.
Waiting for the day though
when they pay me to enter the store
now
THAT
will be a fun day!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A man I recently built a dining table for liked it so much he showed a picture of it to a man who is building a restaurant and was interested in ten. Now, maybe I will hear from this man and maybe I won't but it is nice to see that the man/woman I built the table for was happy.
What does this have to do with writing? Absolutely nothing with the exception that most people in most professions enjoy recognition for their work. Writers are no different.
I've learned that my writing is entertaining to only a very few, myself included. I'm under no illusions that I will ever become a 'successful' writer. Mainly because my mind is waaaaay too different than the rest of the herd.
What I want to impart tonight is a message aimed at those writers who seek recognition for their hard work. The message is: It does not matter if anyone likes/hates your work, your writing. What matters is that you enjoy it, that you recognize you took an idea, a subject matter, a 'whatever' and wrote about it. Pretty simple.
Everyone has a skill, something they are good at. Sometimes that may be writing geared for herd consumption. Sometimes it might be a physical skill. Whatever skill it is, you're good at it if that is what you do.
It is interesting that some people don't even know what they are good at because they've never tried.
I've heard many times different people talk about different actions/professions such as, "Oh, I don't know. It sounds interesting but I could never learn to bungee jump out of a helicopter." Ha! They say this but never have tried.
If you're reading this shit and have never written anything other than a check to post bail for a friend of yours, I suggest you try it. Writing might be the skill you never knew you had. As for bungee jumping out of a helicopter, just say, no...
And now, some shitty writing. Lets see what a guy who plays with his wood will come up with.
***
Woody
Long, hard, straight with little to bend...
"Wait a second Robin, sounds like you're writing about a hard on, an erection..."
Oops. Yep. Caught me. Just one of the fun things about writing. Woody, wood, mixing words/meanings.
***
Thanks
Doing a job to make a living
Living to do what must be done
Is it only for the money?
No?
Yes?
Appreciation comes in many ways
Those doing the work
Those who pay
Wood is my way
The forest filled with wind and tree's
Harvest with boards made
Turning such into forms and idea's
Making a warming comfort to soothe the soul and mind
So simple a table formed to their desire
Taking only a few hours
Little more than a day
and receiving money and thanks
Leading now to more work, more wood, more sweat, more satisfaction
Doing a job to make a living
Living to do what must be done
filled with
thanks.
What does this have to do with writing? Absolutely nothing with the exception that most people in most professions enjoy recognition for their work. Writers are no different.
I've learned that my writing is entertaining to only a very few, myself included. I'm under no illusions that I will ever become a 'successful' writer. Mainly because my mind is waaaaay too different than the rest of the herd.
What I want to impart tonight is a message aimed at those writers who seek recognition for their hard work. The message is: It does not matter if anyone likes/hates your work, your writing. What matters is that you enjoy it, that you recognize you took an idea, a subject matter, a 'whatever' and wrote about it. Pretty simple.
Everyone has a skill, something they are good at. Sometimes that may be writing geared for herd consumption. Sometimes it might be a physical skill. Whatever skill it is, you're good at it if that is what you do.
It is interesting that some people don't even know what they are good at because they've never tried.
I've heard many times different people talk about different actions/professions such as, "Oh, I don't know. It sounds interesting but I could never learn to bungee jump out of a helicopter." Ha! They say this but never have tried.
If you're reading this shit and have never written anything other than a check to post bail for a friend of yours, I suggest you try it. Writing might be the skill you never knew you had. As for bungee jumping out of a helicopter, just say, no...
And now, some shitty writing. Lets see what a guy who plays with his wood will come up with.
***
Woody
Long, hard, straight with little to bend...
"Wait a second Robin, sounds like you're writing about a hard on, an erection..."
Oops. Yep. Caught me. Just one of the fun things about writing. Woody, wood, mixing words/meanings.
***
Thanks
Doing a job to make a living
Living to do what must be done
Is it only for the money?
No?
Yes?
Appreciation comes in many ways
Those doing the work
Those who pay
Wood is my way
The forest filled with wind and tree's
Harvest with boards made
Turning such into forms and idea's
Making a warming comfort to soothe the soul and mind
So simple a table formed to their desire
Taking only a few hours
Little more than a day
and receiving money and thanks
Leading now to more work, more wood, more sweat, more satisfaction
Doing a job to make a living
Living to do what must be done
filled with
thanks.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey parasite, I got the job.
"So? Are there any dolphins involved with this new job? Maybe some bare-assed tree roots?"
Nope.
"Then why bother me with what I could care less about."
Well, thought you might want to help...
"Bwhaaahaahaa! Help? Me help you, why in the hell would I..."
There's potato chips and dip AND chocolate for payment.
(silence)
"Really? Okay, I'm in. What do I have to do?"
Bwhaahaaa! Fooled ya. You're a parasite and can only help inspire me. There is no way you can build 15 tables, two display cases, a bar for 70 bottles of booze, and a whole lot of other wood work. No. You're as worthless as tits on a boar. Now, go back to drooling on yourself.
"Bastard."
Yep. And don't you forget it.
*
Got another job, soon I will never have to sleep. I'll just work 24 hours a day seven days a weeks, The man I'm going to build stuff for is a very wealthy individual and told me, "Just make it happen and spare me the details." I like him already. Of course, when he see's how my mind works, I'll probably get fired, but at least, it will be fun!
**
Fun
One man[s] joy is another man's pleasure with some men suffering all the way
Lifting weights to bring a body mass and muscle
Jogging miles to feel fit
Eating
Fucking
Religion
Work
So many choices of life
where so many make
the choices best to fit
Lumber hewn from the bole
Turning into fate
leaving satisfaction, a smile, a sliver
and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
a perfect choice
made.
"So? Are there any dolphins involved with this new job? Maybe some bare-assed tree roots?"
Nope.
"Then why bother me with what I could care less about."
Well, thought you might want to help...
"Bwhaaahaahaa! Help? Me help you, why in the hell would I..."
There's potato chips and dip AND chocolate for payment.
(silence)
"Really? Okay, I'm in. What do I have to do?"
Bwhaahaaa! Fooled ya. You're a parasite and can only help inspire me. There is no way you can build 15 tables, two display cases, a bar for 70 bottles of booze, and a whole lot of other wood work. No. You're as worthless as tits on a boar. Now, go back to drooling on yourself.
"Bastard."
Yep. And don't you forget it.
*
Got another job, soon I will never have to sleep. I'll just work 24 hours a day seven days a weeks, The man I'm going to build stuff for is a very wealthy individual and told me, "Just make it happen and spare me the details." I like him already. Of course, when he see's how my mind works, I'll probably get fired, but at least, it will be fun!
**
Fun
One man[s] joy is another man's pleasure with some men suffering all the way
Lifting weights to bring a body mass and muscle
Jogging miles to feel fit
Eating
Fucking
Religion
Work
So many choices of life
where so many make
the choices best to fit
Lumber hewn from the bole
Turning into fate
leaving satisfaction, a smile, a sliver
and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
a perfect choice
made.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Life truly is inspirational. Working with a man who does good work but has a totally fucked up personal life. He meets and engages in sexual activity with more women than a male rabbit locked into a cage with 1000 female rabbits...
Currently he is in the perfect relationship he could ever hope to have. He is going with a woman who also engages in a lot of sexual activity with more men than a (you get the idea)
One minute they are hugging and loving, the next they are trying to kill each other. Back and forth, back and forth. Today I finally told him I'm going to use him in a piece of writing and that the two of them are PERFECT for each other. Totally dysfunctional. Both totally happy with being bipolar. And I had to laugh when the woman's grandfather told me he took his .38 caliber pistol back from her so she would not shoot him.
Of course, it is a wonderful game to watch. A game with living pieces. A drama filled with many side characters and plots. And, it makes my head hurt just watching the whirlwind of romance/war.
So Matt, this piece of writing is dedicated to you and your lover/opponent. And Rachael, you go girl. Aim for the scrotum.
***
Love and Lovely War
Battles waged with rage and aggression
Both sides wave the banner of war
Men and Women
Orgasm's and satisfaction
Bloodied bodies and bandages
A lot of gore and pain.
Tide tilted first towards him and then he; highs and lows and in between
Stronger and stronger with moments of weakness
Clouds getting thicker as the cannons blaze
Trumpets sound declarations
Fields littered with corpses
Insane?
Finally, the sky clears, refreshed after a cleansing rain.
Truce?
Peace?
Silence?
He rises from the trenches with a smile
She runs from behind the stone barricade with a grin
Facing each other with arms out stretched
a kiss
passionate
enduring...
He plunges deep the knife into her back
She drives an ice pick deep into his brain
Such the battle of love where only they can say who wins.
Currently he is in the perfect relationship he could ever hope to have. He is going with a woman who also engages in a lot of sexual activity with more men than a (you get the idea)
One minute they are hugging and loving, the next they are trying to kill each other. Back and forth, back and forth. Today I finally told him I'm going to use him in a piece of writing and that the two of them are PERFECT for each other. Totally dysfunctional. Both totally happy with being bipolar. And I had to laugh when the woman's grandfather told me he took his .38 caliber pistol back from her so she would not shoot him.
Of course, it is a wonderful game to watch. A game with living pieces. A drama filled with many side characters and plots. And, it makes my head hurt just watching the whirlwind of romance/war.
So Matt, this piece of writing is dedicated to you and your lover/opponent. And Rachael, you go girl. Aim for the scrotum.
***
Love and Lovely War
Battles waged with rage and aggression
Both sides wave the banner of war
Men and Women
Orgasm's and satisfaction
Bloodied bodies and bandages
A lot of gore and pain.
Tide tilted first towards him and then he; highs and lows and in between
Stronger and stronger with moments of weakness
Clouds getting thicker as the cannons blaze
Trumpets sound declarations
Fields littered with corpses
Insane?
Finally, the sky clears, refreshed after a cleansing rain.
Truce?
Peace?
Silence?
He rises from the trenches with a smile
She runs from behind the stone barricade with a grin
Facing each other with arms out stretched
a kiss
passionate
enduring...
He plunges deep the knife into her back
She drives an ice pick deep into his brain
Such the battle of love where only they can say who wins.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
light of now giving darkness away
music
food
awake
dogs muffled bark announce
wind tickling walls
work awaits.
music
food
awake
dogs muffled bark announce
wind tickling walls
work awaits.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
tired state of mind
hours flown so fast
wing tips sore as feathers fail
in the distance the moon laughs
to the sound of snoring
hours flown so fast
wing tips sore as feathers fail
in the distance the moon laughs
to the sound of snoring
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
How does a writer respond when angry and decides to write? I suppose it depends on the gender, species, and person. Everyone is different and I am no different than those who are different.
I work seven days a week, for very little money and try my hardest. Taking pride in ones work is something I take very seriously. Recently been working a project for some people. Building them a 40x60 shop. Doing the concrete pour in three pours as I only have one other that works with me. Poured 16.5 yards of concrete on Tue, worked all day yesterday on another job and then after work drove over an hour to work three hours in the dark and another hour home, all in preparation of pouring another 16.5 yards today.
Got a phone call from the man I'm working for. Drunk. Chewed me out for working last night and then asking when the final pour will be. So, how does a writer respond when angry? Tonight's inspiration is dedicated to Joe, a drunken fool who is very lucky I didn't tell him to go fuck himself... Wait a minute. Fuck that. Go fuck yourself Joe. One more call like that and you'll never, ever, see me again.
"Gee Robin, panties in a bunch?" the parasite snickered.
No. And fuck you too parasite.
***
Drunken Fools
An errand attended by wafting emotions held bound by the fermentation of thoughts
Stagger then, your imagination where black blood boils red
Jagged stab of stubborn with eager temptations to fail
Aloof and bound to a tradition passed by fatherly love with motherly aid
Just a sip
A nipple budded rose full of thorns
Reaching a boldness so cold
Once bullied by others so to do to others
the same horns
Words
Words spoken with a distorted haze of lost thoughts
Thoughts held prison tight, as if buggered with lucidity was not the way
The way
Seeming toads of poisoned lilly pads
beneath the tipple stance of stout stupidity
visions never to be felt with calm mind
passing toxic waves of bellicose, red-eyed logic
Pass out you
that of what steams from shit on a cold morning
Frosted personality of poison incarnate
where behind a smile hides the stupor of a cancerous sobriety.
*
And that is how one writer might respond in writing when angry. I suppose it is possible anyway. But since I'm really not a writer, and IF I were to be a writer I'd probably write the following.
*
Uh? Hmm. How does this fucking keyboard work? Shit. Spilled soda on the computer. (BZZZZ ZAP! Boom!)
I work seven days a week, for very little money and try my hardest. Taking pride in ones work is something I take very seriously. Recently been working a project for some people. Building them a 40x60 shop. Doing the concrete pour in three pours as I only have one other that works with me. Poured 16.5 yards of concrete on Tue, worked all day yesterday on another job and then after work drove over an hour to work three hours in the dark and another hour home, all in preparation of pouring another 16.5 yards today.
Got a phone call from the man I'm working for. Drunk. Chewed me out for working last night and then asking when the final pour will be. So, how does a writer respond when angry? Tonight's inspiration is dedicated to Joe, a drunken fool who is very lucky I didn't tell him to go fuck himself... Wait a minute. Fuck that. Go fuck yourself Joe. One more call like that and you'll never, ever, see me again.
"Gee Robin, panties in a bunch?" the parasite snickered.
No. And fuck you too parasite.
***
Drunken Fools
An errand attended by wafting emotions held bound by the fermentation of thoughts
Stagger then, your imagination where black blood boils red
Jagged stab of stubborn with eager temptations to fail
Aloof and bound to a tradition passed by fatherly love with motherly aid
Just a sip
A nipple budded rose full of thorns
Reaching a boldness so cold
Once bullied by others so to do to others
the same horns
Words
Words spoken with a distorted haze of lost thoughts
Thoughts held prison tight, as if buggered with lucidity was not the way
The way
Seeming toads of poisoned lilly pads
beneath the tipple stance of stout stupidity
visions never to be felt with calm mind
passing toxic waves of bellicose, red-eyed logic
Pass out you
that of what steams from shit on a cold morning
Frosted personality of poison incarnate
where behind a smile hides the stupor of a cancerous sobriety.
*
And that is how one writer might respond in writing when angry. I suppose it is possible anyway. But since I'm really not a writer, and IF I were to be a writer I'd probably write the following.
*
Uh? Hmm. How does this fucking keyboard work? Shit. Spilled soda on the computer. (BZZZZ ZAP! Boom!)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inspired by the songs of coyotes last night and the amazing fact on how teeny, tiny, little birds can clean out all the birdseed feeder. Damn, fill it one day and the food flies out. Just doing the math/mass equations that would be like me eating a whole cow every week.
"Uh, robin?"
Yes parasite?
"You do eat a whole cow every week..."
Dang. You're correct.
***
Food Chain
A worm enriching the soil
A blade of grass
A grasshopper
A beak
A bang
A dinner where a hunter eats
On and on and on
a process runs
the life of the hunters fade away
starting the whole process of life again
until
there is nothing left to eat.
"Uh, robin?"
Yes parasite?
"You do eat a whole cow every week..."
Dang. You're correct.
***
Food Chain
A worm enriching the soil
A blade of grass
A grasshopper
A beak
A bang
A dinner where a hunter eats
On and on and on
a process runs
the life of the hunters fade away
starting the whole process of life again
until
there is nothing left to eat.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moon Pie
Sweetly the stars fade away
Blinking behind the plate
Warmed by light and whispers
From behind the ovens of nova's, explosions, creations and stellar heat
Beneath, the eyes of man upward wondering
The moon looks delicious tonight.
Sweetly the stars fade away
Blinking behind the plate
Warmed by light and whispers
From behind the ovens of nova's, explosions, creations and stellar heat
Beneath, the eyes of man upward wondering
The moon looks delicious tonight.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Nerve endings bring to the front -
heat
cold
pleasure
pain
processing what's inside and outside
to decide
run?
walk?
crawl/\?
scream\/?
\/
?
/\
Yikes!
so many choices, so many reactions, so much stimulus
so many ideas, so much philosophy, so much intelligence
so much experience, so much training,
so much life...
but really
it is instincts that decide.
heat
cold
pleasure
pain
processing what's inside and outside
to decide
run?
walk?
crawl/\?
scream\/?
\/
?
/\
Yikes!
so many choices, so many reactions, so much stimulus
so many ideas, so much philosophy, so much intelligence
so much experience, so much training,
so much life...
but really
it is instincts that decide.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Finally finished with one job, now on to the next bazillion! All very inspiring of course. Speaking of inspired, this one is for Gary's daughter.
***
Poison Flows
Desert winds carry desert sands
Far above the clear waters of oceans beach
Far below the dunes stand
Whispering with heat and cold.
Once an oasis among a city of fools
Lost souls
Each
and
every
one.
She gossiped and snipped, her mouth full of poison
Dripping fang and claw
until the well
became tainted
waters such that no matter how much time
no matter how much sand
no matter how wind passes...
The water will never be sweet
again
Above the winds swirl and dance leaving the fools to thirst, to hunger, to long for
peace
Filling their dead mouths, their dead eyes; soulless sorrow for ever eternal
recorded
Beyond the horizon the oceans waves, endless
filled with salted brine that while clear and eternal
can never be touched by nor consumed
by man or hatred.
R.I.P.
***
Poison Flows
Desert winds carry desert sands
Far above the clear waters of oceans beach
Far below the dunes stand
Whispering with heat and cold.
Once an oasis among a city of fools
Lost souls
Each
and
every
one.
She gossiped and snipped, her mouth full of poison
Dripping fang and claw
until the well
became tainted
waters such that no matter how much time
no matter how much sand
no matter how wind passes...
The water will never be sweet
again
Above the winds swirl and dance leaving the fools to thirst, to hunger, to long for
peace
Filling their dead mouths, their dead eyes; soulless sorrow for ever eternal
recorded
Beyond the horizon the oceans waves, endless
filled with salted brine that while clear and eternal
can never be touched by nor consumed
by man or hatred.
R.I.P.