Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Moderator: Editors
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
saw some nice pictures of two albino sisters.
no doubt of inspirational
***
Ethereal
(my shortest poem yet. filled with mental pictures, words, and very visual appealing)
no doubt of inspirational
***
Ethereal
(my shortest poem yet. filled with mental pictures, words, and very visual appealing)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
U.S. Presidents are a reflection of the people living in the U.S.
Writers are a reflection of what is, what was, and what will/could be.
Inspirational to note how the reflections range in metaphorical colors from black to white.
***
Walk For Life
1/24/2020
A man will speak as men and women walk
Setting into motion proof Life exists
A woman will listen and decide as is her right
Setting into motion proof life itself, is a decision
Courts have ruled and will rule with laws, setting aside nothing
not even ambitions
Pride
Power
Prison
Barriers. Obstacles. Decisions. Death.
How has something so simple and real, the true existence of Life become a tool of debate?
How can mankind pretend?
How and why really cannot explain when dealing with puppets giving up on the real reasons
they
live
thinking freely
thinking they are free of the strings while surrendering their souls to a sinister master
a master, an influence, a mood, whim, desire...
one that will never overcome Life
as even death has to answer.
Writers are a reflection of what is, what was, and what will/could be.
Inspirational to note how the reflections range in metaphorical colors from black to white.
***
Walk For Life
1/24/2020
A man will speak as men and women walk
Setting into motion proof Life exists
A woman will listen and decide as is her right
Setting into motion proof life itself, is a decision
Courts have ruled and will rule with laws, setting aside nothing
not even ambitions
Pride
Power
Prison
Barriers. Obstacles. Decisions. Death.
How has something so simple and real, the true existence of Life become a tool of debate?
How can mankind pretend?
How and why really cannot explain when dealing with puppets giving up on the real reasons
they
live
thinking freely
thinking they are free of the strings while surrendering their souls to a sinister master
a master, an influence, a mood, whim, desire...
one that will never overcome Life
as even death has to answer.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Contagion
Chicken pox
Chills
Consumption
Calls to mind the good old days
Cells calling out for help
Citizens sick and dying
Can't blame nature though...
Cause is caused by organized chance and hazard
Cancelling little ol humans as if a virus actually think humans matter.
Chicken pox
Chills
Consumption
Calls to mind the good old days
Cells calling out for help
Citizens sick and dying
Can't blame nature though...
Cause is caused by organized chance and hazard
Cancelling little ol humans as if a virus actually think humans matter.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Politics and Pussy
Two words that go so well together
Dicks and cunts
Penis and vagina
Pussy and politics
Look around at anyone really
Nobody is immune
Power and dick,
Politics and pussy,
Sorta like a Universal comedy of metaphorical and real
sex...
Democrats cry like babies and smell like old dicks
Republicans are timid and want to get fucked
so, who is the pussy?
Democrats want to fuck Republicans
Bernie wants to shove it up Warrens ass
and yet, an anomaly recently, a dick named,
Trump.
Say what you will, the man likes pussy
He seizes the moment
Embraces his balls
and is just what he knows he wants to be...
At least he is honest when he manipulates the power, the same power EVERYONE else
wants to have
or be...
And if he were to suck Putin's dick or do a threesome on some Ayatollah
(even that dead one, Khomeini)
I say, Bravo!
Well done!
Want to know why?
Because Trump stands with life and embraces it all
The dicks
The cunts
The twats
The penis
and for this dick, he is A-okay
with me.
*
"Ha! Politics and pussy. Good one dickhead."
Thanks parasite. All politicians are horrible. The ones in PTA, the one in whatever religion, anyone with the chance to exercise power over others is both a dick and pussy.
"So, you actually like that dick Trump?"
Yep. I'm making more money now. I can shoot machine guns. I can cut tree's and drive a truck. And after seeing him stand with life against abortion today, I don't care about how many lies he exposes from those band of corrupt bastards.
"So, tell us how you really feel. Want a hug?"
Not with that huge throbbing zit on what I think is your forehead.
"Hee Hee... It could be a foreskin..."
Two words that go so well together
Dicks and cunts
Penis and vagina
Pussy and politics
Look around at anyone really
Nobody is immune
Power and dick,
Politics and pussy,
Sorta like a Universal comedy of metaphorical and real
sex...
Democrats cry like babies and smell like old dicks
Republicans are timid and want to get fucked
so, who is the pussy?
Democrats want to fuck Republicans
Bernie wants to shove it up Warrens ass
and yet, an anomaly recently, a dick named,
Trump.
Say what you will, the man likes pussy
He seizes the moment
Embraces his balls
and is just what he knows he wants to be...
At least he is honest when he manipulates the power, the same power EVERYONE else
wants to have
or be...
And if he were to suck Putin's dick or do a threesome on some Ayatollah
(even that dead one, Khomeini)
I say, Bravo!
Well done!
Want to know why?
Because Trump stands with life and embraces it all
The dicks
The cunts
The twats
The penis
and for this dick, he is A-okay
with me.
*
"Ha! Politics and pussy. Good one dickhead."
Thanks parasite. All politicians are horrible. The ones in PTA, the one in whatever religion, anyone with the chance to exercise power over others is both a dick and pussy.
"So, you actually like that dick Trump?"
Yep. I'm making more money now. I can shoot machine guns. I can cut tree's and drive a truck. And after seeing him stand with life against abortion today, I don't care about how many lies he exposes from those band of corrupt bastards.
"So, tell us how you really feel. Want a hug?"
Not with that huge throbbing zit on what I think is your forehead.
"Hee Hee... It could be a foreskin..."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Ran a rake through the mind
Zen in effect, chaos in theory, boring as concrete, exciting as an atomic bomb
Found it in there, inside, interesting
Following one furrow down to the topic of softness
Baby butts tried, as a marshmallow left in the sun too long
yet
what is and is perfect, the fingers tracing
meandering
running far softer than a rake
down the breast of a beautiful woman
before, during, after, and even with the rake without
sex.
Zen in effect, chaos in theory, boring as concrete, exciting as an atomic bomb
Found it in there, inside, interesting
Following one furrow down to the topic of softness
Baby butts tried, as a marshmallow left in the sun too long
yet
what is and is perfect, the fingers tracing
meandering
running far softer than a rake
down the breast of a beautiful woman
before, during, after, and even with the rake without
sex.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Readers have such a huge choice of what to read it staggers the imagination. From parchment evolving into mass produced wood fibers. Electronic computers to neon static.
Readers read in comfortable formats. Their minds are trained and hardwired as to how to read. Some cultures read from right to left, some from left to right. Up and down. Pictures in place of letters. Even to 'read' with music as even the notes of music are something read.
Today the inspiration is totally from the night travels in a format very comfortable to me but painful for most readers. And it is good it is this way.
***
dreamsthepathconnects,somanysomuch.doesittakesituationplacedinside?revealedasloudlywithfullvolume,staturecommandsinattempttocontrolme.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................('picture'picturesasstonecoldstatuescome'alive'withjusttheslightestbreathandaloneasitmustforaworldinsidesocomplex,sowide,sovibrant,soalive..............................................................................................................................................................................................examplefromthosescatteredthoughtsnowcomingawake.aplanefullofstrangers,friends,andonelovedfromafarwithmyfathersittinginfront.hisbellyextendedashispainisrevealed.healthbattlingdemonsofdeathtrhingtoeatguttedexistance.stubbornishispride.outsidetheroadisfreshinoldunplowedsnow.tryingforspeedtomakethehillasubject;masteringsteerageonlyknowingstrengthofsolidgoldchain..................................laughingatmankindsattempttoclearitsjourneyasiftheplowbladecouldcutignorancefree..................................................................................................................................................................................................................vibrationsoftheplanelandinginTurkey,somolia,Tunisia,crying toseeherfrombehindasshelaughswithpasteandfriendandthentwocametogkivesolacetothegrowingbondofmyfather,givingaideandcomfortandwiththisthemainstreetbecamealive.tosmileandlaughatsuchasmallyellowbulldozer,almostasifatoyofchildsplay..................................................................................................................sosmall,solight,yetrumblingwithsuchstrengthandatinyblade,toparallelparkinasuddenspotopening,ohevennowsuchmemoriesandsmellsofthosecompetingcolors........................................................................................................................................................backtoajetsettlingoverthehorizon,emptysavenowforme,asleepanddreamingwithtearsnowofjoyknowinghesurvived,theyarehappywiththeirlivesandwaitingtomergewiththewinddrivensnow,thedesertdust,plowingthenightsky...................
Readers read in comfortable formats. Their minds are trained and hardwired as to how to read. Some cultures read from right to left, some from left to right. Up and down. Pictures in place of letters. Even to 'read' with music as even the notes of music are something read.
Today the inspiration is totally from the night travels in a format very comfortable to me but painful for most readers. And it is good it is this way.
***
dreamsthepathconnects,somanysomuch.doesittakesituationplacedinside?revealedasloudlywithfullvolume,staturecommandsinattempttocontrolme.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................('picture'picturesasstonecoldstatuescome'alive'withjusttheslightestbreathandaloneasitmustforaworldinsidesocomplex,sowide,sovibrant,soalive..............................................................................................................................................................................................examplefromthosescatteredthoughtsnowcomingawake.aplanefullofstrangers,friends,andonelovedfromafarwithmyfathersittinginfront.hisbellyextendedashispainisrevealed.healthbattlingdemonsofdeathtrhingtoeatguttedexistance.stubbornishispride.outsidetheroadisfreshinoldunplowedsnow.tryingforspeedtomakethehillasubject;masteringsteerageonlyknowingstrengthofsolidgoldchain..................................laughingatmankindsattempttoclearitsjourneyasiftheplowbladecouldcutignorancefree..................................................................................................................................................................................................................vibrationsoftheplanelandinginTurkey,somolia,Tunisia,crying toseeherfrombehindasshelaughswithpasteandfriendandthentwocametogkivesolacetothegrowingbondofmyfather,givingaideandcomfortandwiththisthemainstreetbecamealive.tosmileandlaughatsuchasmallyellowbulldozer,almostasifatoyofchildsplay..................................................................................................................sosmall,solight,yetrumblingwithsuchstrengthandatinyblade,toparallelparkinasuddenspotopening,ohevennowsuchmemoriesandsmellsofthosecompetingcolors........................................................................................................................................................backtoajetsettlingoverthehorizon,emptysavenowforme,asleepanddreamingwithtearsnowofjoyknowinghesurvived,theyarehappywiththeirlivesandwaitingtomergewiththewinddrivensnow,thedesertdust,plowingthenightsky...................
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Hey parasite, are you ever going to die?
(munch, munch, crunch) the parasite was feeling a bit polite so it did not answer the question as its mouth was full of baby gerbils being devoured by the large blob... (burp) "Nope."
So nothing can kill you?
"Mmm... Let me think..." And so the parasite pondered for about a half of a second before answering, "Nope."
Interesting. Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter with his daughter and other passengers. People are dying in China from a virus. Actually, a lot of people are dying lately. Yet, your ugly form is supposed to live forever?
"Yep. Now shut your yapper and skip on down to the pet store and buy another bag of baby gerbils. I love when they die plus they are so damn tasty."
You're a sick thing parasite. Strange how good things such as tulips and bees die so quickly yet a living plague such as yourself stick around to torture everybody.
"Thank you for the compliment. Though I don't get sick but sure enjoy making others sick. Now, enough bullshit, get me those gerbils or at least some pickled spotted owl."
Spotted owl... Yum! The taste reminds me of BBQ eagle on a stick.
"Hey, I don't share so don't even think about touching my snack."
(munch, munch, crunch) the parasite was feeling a bit polite so it did not answer the question as its mouth was full of baby gerbils being devoured by the large blob... (burp) "Nope."
So nothing can kill you?
"Mmm... Let me think..." And so the parasite pondered for about a half of a second before answering, "Nope."
Interesting. Kobe Bryant died in a helicopter with his daughter and other passengers. People are dying in China from a virus. Actually, a lot of people are dying lately. Yet, your ugly form is supposed to live forever?
"Yep. Now shut your yapper and skip on down to the pet store and buy another bag of baby gerbils. I love when they die plus they are so damn tasty."
You're a sick thing parasite. Strange how good things such as tulips and bees die so quickly yet a living plague such as yourself stick around to torture everybody.
"Thank you for the compliment. Though I don't get sick but sure enjoy making others sick. Now, enough bullshit, get me those gerbils or at least some pickled spotted owl."
Spotted owl... Yum! The taste reminds me of BBQ eagle on a stick.
"Hey, I don't share so don't even think about touching my snack."
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A young man helping me today said he broke up with his girlfriend last night using the telephone. A few hours later he said he got a text from her saying, "I know we broke up but can we still fuck?" Now, that definitely enters the realm of inspiration.
Got me to thinking how the traditions of sex and technology combine. Relationships where romance led to sex and now sex leads to romance and mankinds technology helps (and destroys) it all.
This then got me to thinking about how in this modern world how men want to become women, women want to become men... a world where intelligence wants what is not what they are...
And this is what happens when inspired.
In a time before there was time; before the planet Earth was not even a thought, a story was formed. It is an old story and modified/translated to fit current understanding. And since it is a story, it must be told.
***
Creator watched the swirling clouds on one section of the Body. In the clouds there was being called, man. The man was naked and knew it. The man was as man was supposed to be. He was intelligent, strong, vibrant, alive.
Standing in a forest near a meadow, the man saw a rabbit feeding on clover and grass. He admired how the small animal moved and laughed as the rabbit suddenly burst into a run of great speed. The man dreamed of being a rabbit; running with the winds and covered with a warm fur. It was easy for the man to come to an understanding of what it would like to be a rabbit.
The man went to his simple dwelling made of sticks and clay leaving the rabbit to continue its day. Sitting upon a stone the man started to play a flute he had made. The sound carried high up and out in all directions. For miles around the birds, insects and other animals heard the sounds of music, the sounds of man.
In the distance, a wolf heard the sweet music and knew it came from the man. The wolf howled towards the sky in answer and together the wolf and man made wonderful sounds. Inside the wolf the wolf dreamed of becoming a man. Able to make such sweet tones. For the wolf it was easy to understand what it would be like to become a man.
The next day, the naked man saw the the wolf chasing the rabbit. The rabbit was fast but the wolf was faster; speed so great it would be a race soon over except with the greatest cunning and speed of all... the man loosed two arrows. The first arrow lead the rabbit and pierced the heart just as the second arrow did the same to the beating heart of the wolf.
Walking over to the two, the man gave thanks to the Creator first and then with great skill, skinned and processed the animals. The rabbit surrendered its fur and meat while the wolf's hide was quickly put to use to clothe the man. The warmth of the wolf fur and the savory taste of the rabbit rested well with the man as he and his family sat around the fire that evening.
It was good. The wolf became man, the man became rabbit, the music from his flute sounding much like contentment and joy. The sound announced for all to hear that the man with his children and wife were warm, fed, and happy...
The darkness afar from the glow of the fire of man hid another life wanting to be like another. It too was man... A man wanting the fur of the wolf, the food from the rabbit. A man wanting the fire, home and family of the other man.
Through the air, an arrow flew and killed the sweet music of the flute.
With this the Creator turned the gaze to another part of the Body.
Got me to thinking how the traditions of sex and technology combine. Relationships where romance led to sex and now sex leads to romance and mankinds technology helps (and destroys) it all.
This then got me to thinking about how in this modern world how men want to become women, women want to become men... a world where intelligence wants what is not what they are...
And this is what happens when inspired.
In a time before there was time; before the planet Earth was not even a thought, a story was formed. It is an old story and modified/translated to fit current understanding. And since it is a story, it must be told.
***
Creator watched the swirling clouds on one section of the Body. In the clouds there was being called, man. The man was naked and knew it. The man was as man was supposed to be. He was intelligent, strong, vibrant, alive.
Standing in a forest near a meadow, the man saw a rabbit feeding on clover and grass. He admired how the small animal moved and laughed as the rabbit suddenly burst into a run of great speed. The man dreamed of being a rabbit; running with the winds and covered with a warm fur. It was easy for the man to come to an understanding of what it would like to be a rabbit.
The man went to his simple dwelling made of sticks and clay leaving the rabbit to continue its day. Sitting upon a stone the man started to play a flute he had made. The sound carried high up and out in all directions. For miles around the birds, insects and other animals heard the sounds of music, the sounds of man.
In the distance, a wolf heard the sweet music and knew it came from the man. The wolf howled towards the sky in answer and together the wolf and man made wonderful sounds. Inside the wolf the wolf dreamed of becoming a man. Able to make such sweet tones. For the wolf it was easy to understand what it would be like to become a man.
The next day, the naked man saw the the wolf chasing the rabbit. The rabbit was fast but the wolf was faster; speed so great it would be a race soon over except with the greatest cunning and speed of all... the man loosed two arrows. The first arrow lead the rabbit and pierced the heart just as the second arrow did the same to the beating heart of the wolf.
Walking over to the two, the man gave thanks to the Creator first and then with great skill, skinned and processed the animals. The rabbit surrendered its fur and meat while the wolf's hide was quickly put to use to clothe the man. The warmth of the wolf fur and the savory taste of the rabbit rested well with the man as he and his family sat around the fire that evening.
It was good. The wolf became man, the man became rabbit, the music from his flute sounding much like contentment and joy. The sound announced for all to hear that the man with his children and wife were warm, fed, and happy...
The darkness afar from the glow of the fire of man hid another life wanting to be like another. It too was man... A man wanting the fur of the wolf, the food from the rabbit. A man wanting the fire, home and family of the other man.
Through the air, an arrow flew and killed the sweet music of the flute.
With this the Creator turned the gaze to another part of the Body.
- 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 know we broke up but can we still fuck?"
Wow, what a way to devalue another human being: a walking dildo. He deserves to be rid of her, and she should just go buy a few zucchini.
Wow, what a way to devalue another human being: a walking dildo. He deserves to be rid of her, and she should just go buy a few zucchini.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
You raise a good topic, that being value.
Some families value a name when relationships are concerned. By this I mean the royal family wants family to marry/engage with those of power and stature. The king of England would probably not fare well with the family if he married a stripper.
I do a lot of thinking and when I heard about the breakup and then the, "I know we broke up but can we still fuck?" it got me to thinking as to why such a woman would say this. Of course the first thought was it is all hearsay. I'm getting this from a young man who may say such to gain stature among his male peers, or, that the language was tweaked from something like, "I know we are no longer together but is there a chance we can get back together?"
Another, 'of course' is that if the statement is word-for-word then maybe it could be considered that both the man and woman have based their relationship mostly on sex and physical appearance. In this day and age, I favor this explanation as the young man appears to be honest, and many people totally base a relationship upon sex.
In the Marine Corps I was stationed in Sweden to guard the U.S. Embassy. While there a fellow Marine made a point of fucking a 'new' woman almost everyday. He then made a notch on his door frame. There were many, many notches and most importantly, the women I saw at the breakfast table appeared to truly enjoy mindless sex without any attachments. I can still hear some of the women screaming through the wall into my bedroom while they fucked..."Oh fuck me. Fuck me hard!" and his reply was just as interesting.
Fucking. Relationships. Experience. It all is interesting and for writers and commercial entertainment venues it is common knowledge that sex sells.
But for me, sex is an interesting topic to write about but good food rules all and never tells you to go fuck yourself.
*
Soup
Skimming the spoon as if a bird swooping and catches a fish below still waters
Savory smells released while lifting the handle, fat globules scatter
Seeing such spicy colors
Such sensations slowly sipping
as the liquid sensation is freshly hot
so sometimes
a blowing of air to cool, and test
With a bit of time and bit of bread
Waiting for the meal to cool
Appreciating and knowing, looking at the lovely bowl
Just in a small window between too hot, too cool
To devour
To enjoy
Until the last drop and the bottom scraped
such a wonderful
rich
succulent
tasty
well seasoned
soup.
Some families value a name when relationships are concerned. By this I mean the royal family wants family to marry/engage with those of power and stature. The king of England would probably not fare well with the family if he married a stripper.
I do a lot of thinking and when I heard about the breakup and then the, "I know we broke up but can we still fuck?" it got me to thinking as to why such a woman would say this. Of course the first thought was it is all hearsay. I'm getting this from a young man who may say such to gain stature among his male peers, or, that the language was tweaked from something like, "I know we are no longer together but is there a chance we can get back together?"
Another, 'of course' is that if the statement is word-for-word then maybe it could be considered that both the man and woman have based their relationship mostly on sex and physical appearance. In this day and age, I favor this explanation as the young man appears to be honest, and many people totally base a relationship upon sex.
In the Marine Corps I was stationed in Sweden to guard the U.S. Embassy. While there a fellow Marine made a point of fucking a 'new' woman almost everyday. He then made a notch on his door frame. There were many, many notches and most importantly, the women I saw at the breakfast table appeared to truly enjoy mindless sex without any attachments. I can still hear some of the women screaming through the wall into my bedroom while they fucked..."Oh fuck me. Fuck me hard!" and his reply was just as interesting.
Fucking. Relationships. Experience. It all is interesting and for writers and commercial entertainment venues it is common knowledge that sex sells.
But for me, sex is an interesting topic to write about but good food rules all and never tells you to go fuck yourself.
*
Soup
Skimming the spoon as if a bird swooping and catches a fish below still waters
Savory smells released while lifting the handle, fat globules scatter
Seeing such spicy colors
Such sensations slowly sipping
as the liquid sensation is freshly hot
so sometimes
a blowing of air to cool, and test
With a bit of time and bit of bread
Waiting for the meal to cool
Appreciating and knowing, looking at the lovely bowl
Just in a small window between too hot, too cool
To devour
To enjoy
Until the last drop and the bottom scraped
such a wonderful
rich
succulent
tasty
well seasoned
soup.
- 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 like the soup poem. And yeah, a lot of people just love to fuck and aren't interested much in relationships.
I was raised by humans. What's your excuse?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Thanks Lester, food is a trigger word for me so when seeing the word, zucchini it made me want something to eat.
And yepper indeed. That's why there are billions of humans, all a by-product of mutually agreed upon conflict between male and female ending up in orgasms, sweat, and alimony payments.
Now, as to inspiration today, the thought of what writers write and when and who the readers are.
We are all blessed with the opportunity to read writings in native language, original, or translated, from authors thousands of years ago all the way up to today.
I suppose it could be stated with accuracy that almost all writing is geared for humans to read, so maybe it would be fun to write for a future A.I. computer algorithm or artificial life form...
***
Apple Ice
Frozen thermal ducts, at least that the matter deduced with hands held firm upon the skull
Feeling beneath hair and bond, deeper than consciousness, deeper than commonality
as such
a thought grasped
Organic matter explained as power of sugar, salt, protein, oxygen
dashed and splashed
now to feel
danger
This is why the mind, so simple, so fragile, cannot be grasped
Even in vicinity, even nearby, the electrical energy
hurts
and why?
Why try to explain to that which cannot explain as if it needs no explanation
rather
a conglomeration of personal experience
Ask a machine to and the answer will be, infinite, vast, exponential with ability to accept a change to the question
so again
tell me creation, can you only penetrate a skull with probe, vibration, ray, sound?
When you grasp a skull with both hands can you feel the danger? The ability to lose consciousness?
Yet, given tactile sensation and ability
do you understand it is not the brain encased, the bone, hair, living being?
Fallen from a tree as fruit given knowledge and strength
and knowing from birth without any data, history, experience...
Born naked and weak and filled with more than a receptacle
knowing the head, the body, the heart, is a focal point for an inverted pyramid and nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing...
not even close to being for what is
it is
based in a circle spread far and enjoining
far far far away from any title of
human
being.
And yepper indeed. That's why there are billions of humans, all a by-product of mutually agreed upon conflict between male and female ending up in orgasms, sweat, and alimony payments.
Now, as to inspiration today, the thought of what writers write and when and who the readers are.
We are all blessed with the opportunity to read writings in native language, original, or translated, from authors thousands of years ago all the way up to today.
I suppose it could be stated with accuracy that almost all writing is geared for humans to read, so maybe it would be fun to write for a future A.I. computer algorithm or artificial life form...
***
Apple Ice
Frozen thermal ducts, at least that the matter deduced with hands held firm upon the skull
Feeling beneath hair and bond, deeper than consciousness, deeper than commonality
as such
a thought grasped
Organic matter explained as power of sugar, salt, protein, oxygen
dashed and splashed
now to feel
danger
This is why the mind, so simple, so fragile, cannot be grasped
Even in vicinity, even nearby, the electrical energy
hurts
and why?
Why try to explain to that which cannot explain as if it needs no explanation
rather
a conglomeration of personal experience
Ask a machine to and the answer will be, infinite, vast, exponential with ability to accept a change to the question
so again
tell me creation, can you only penetrate a skull with probe, vibration, ray, sound?
When you grasp a skull with both hands can you feel the danger? The ability to lose consciousness?
Yet, given tactile sensation and ability
do you understand it is not the brain encased, the bone, hair, living being?
Fallen from a tree as fruit given knowledge and strength
and knowing from birth without any data, history, experience...
Born naked and weak and filled with more than a receptacle
knowing the head, the body, the heart, is a focal point for an inverted pyramid and nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing...
not even close to being for what is
it is
based in a circle spread far and enjoining
far far far away from any title of
human
being.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
It would be fun____________________________________if read over___________________
__________________________here. But____________________________________________
__________________________________________then again..._________________________
maybe not. So________________we are left________________________right here________
_______________________________________________again.__________________________
_______________________________________________Again? As if_____________________
______________________it all____________________________________________________
________really did________________________________________began.
"Hey idiot."
Yes parasite?
"Tell me the name of your therapists so that I can send over a pack of howling, rabid, rats to eat his brain..."
Wanna hug?
(awkward moment followed by the parasite passing gas)
"Are you fucking daft? I..."
Hug?
-thud-
(there was no further conversation as both Robin and the parasite succumbed to some odor which reminded one of rotting flesh from the inner side of an Somolian purple pig's scrotum mixed with the smell of an ogre's fermented pubic hair and duck snot)
__________________________here. But____________________________________________
__________________________________________then again..._________________________
maybe not. So________________we are left________________________right here________
_______________________________________________again.__________________________
_______________________________________________Again? As if_____________________
______________________it all____________________________________________________
________really did________________________________________began.
"Hey idiot."
Yes parasite?
"Tell me the name of your therapists so that I can send over a pack of howling, rabid, rats to eat his brain..."
Wanna hug?
(awkward moment followed by the parasite passing gas)
"Are you fucking daft? I..."
Hug?
-thud-
(there was no further conversation as both Robin and the parasite succumbed to some odor which reminded one of rotting flesh from the inner side of an Somolian purple pig's scrotum mixed with the smell of an ogre's fermented pubic hair and duck snot)
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Inspired by a show I love called, Project Runway. In the show there is revealed wonderful emotional traits of artists AND really creative talents of design and clothing. If I had the time I'd buy a sewing machine and start making/designing clothing. I'd probably end up sewing a whole line of some really funky clothing for my corgi's. Speaking of which...Radar, how would you like a purple chiffon butt wrap with a flowing green scarf?
"Woof... Grrr...(thud)" that is his reply. A growl followed by a belly rub.
Also inspired today by England. Good for you England. You're much better being the stuffy independent country than to be hitched up to the rest of that fucked up European Union.
So two bits of inspiration to combine. The eccentric creativity of artists trapped in their minds mixed with stubborn freedom of a monarchy.
***
With a wave of his hand he creates demand
Sewn seams to bring together command
"Off with their head," it once, twice, three times said.
King of color and land while inside held tight, a Queen for the day, a Queen for the night
Armies across boundaries tested
Striving for a life where threading the needle hurts
even the mightiest of might is colored
as all strive to be what is inside
and after the battles with tattered flags
and if one wears the cloth of age and wisdom
to then ponder and wonder to watch
the new generation
of hands...
"Woof... Grrr...(thud)" that is his reply. A growl followed by a belly rub.
Also inspired today by England. Good for you England. You're much better being the stuffy independent country than to be hitched up to the rest of that fucked up European Union.
So two bits of inspiration to combine. The eccentric creativity of artists trapped in their minds mixed with stubborn freedom of a monarchy.
***
With a wave of his hand he creates demand
Sewn seams to bring together command
"Off with their head," it once, twice, three times said.
King of color and land while inside held tight, a Queen for the day, a Queen for the night
Armies across boundaries tested
Striving for a life where threading the needle hurts
even the mightiest of might is colored
as all strive to be what is inside
and after the battles with tattered flags
and if one wears the cloth of age and wisdom
to then ponder and wonder to watch
the new generation
of hands...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Superbowl. Virus in China. Money. Sex. Lies. Truth.
It seems just writing words individual yet strung together is almost like a bit of poetry.
Inspirational.
***
be careful world, for you may just get what you want
palette of colored sensations wearing the smug face of aloof and when pushed into your corner...
proud to wear the badge of victim
this world, your world, has no allegiance to you or any before making way for after
thus giving you the choice and opportunity to be something more
free from death and turmoil
yet the world knows you crave the breath
the touch
fullness of flora and pleasure
paying for such only more and more and more until...
your very soul surrenders through a worn hole in time
still, as with every gift there is time and ability to shine like a star
and with freedom merely a thread apart
to fly the sky of another World.
It seems just writing words individual yet strung together is almost like a bit of poetry.
Inspirational.
***
be careful world, for you may just get what you want
palette of colored sensations wearing the smug face of aloof and when pushed into your corner...
proud to wear the badge of victim
this world, your world, has no allegiance to you or any before making way for after
thus giving you the choice and opportunity to be something more
free from death and turmoil
yet the world knows you crave the breath
the touch
fullness of flora and pleasure
paying for such only more and more and more until...
your very soul surrenders through a worn hole in time
still, as with every gift there is time and ability to shine like a star
and with freedom merely a thread apart
to fly the sky of another World.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
\\
\\
\\
Mac n cheese...sounds, au you zay it? A b\tt franc'aise?
//
//
//
.
.
.
"Damnnnnn... For being a giant pencil dick, your attempt to sound like a resident of Fargo North Dakota is pretty fucked up.:"
\\
\\
\\
Non my leetle ami!
//
//
//
".......(sigh)...... Yep, you're nutzo bonkers... Later dude."
\\
\\
\\
Oui! Oui!
\\
\\
Mac n cheese...sounds, au you zay it? A b\tt franc'aise?
//
//
//
.
.
.
"Damnnnnn... For being a giant pencil dick, your attempt to sound like a resident of Fargo North Dakota is pretty fucked up.:"
\\
\\
\\
Non my leetle ami!
//
//
//
".......(sigh)...... Yep, you're nutzo bonkers... Later dude."
\\
\\
\\
Oui! Oui!
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Watched a familiar sight defy gravity roaring up the hill
while bending metal
and cursing sharp steel climbing up and down a ladder
now to listen to a man with a target up on his head,
defy so many who fall with ease along with society
and to mention the cold and clouds as the snow scurries this way
white flakes to find ground in their own way
..
.
gravity and reality or the gravity of reality
it does not make sense to me as nothing binds any part of me
to a planet so small, so tiny, so weak...
well, to be honest it is pretty simple and desirable to fall prey
to gluttony.
*
"(burp) Get me some more cheese dip moron..."
Sorry parasite, possession is 9/10 of having time to finish it all before an ugly blob gets one of its tendrils into the bowl of chips.
while bending metal
and cursing sharp steel climbing up and down a ladder
now to listen to a man with a target up on his head,
defy so many who fall with ease along with society
and to mention the cold and clouds as the snow scurries this way
white flakes to find ground in their own way
..
.
gravity and reality or the gravity of reality
it does not make sense to me as nothing binds any part of me
to a planet so small, so tiny, so weak...
well, to be honest it is pretty simple and desirable to fall prey
to gluttony.
*
"(burp) Get me some more cheese dip moron..."
Sorry parasite, possession is 9/10 of having time to finish it all before an ugly blob gets one of its tendrils into the bowl of chips.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
A good day today, filled with snow, cold, electrical work, and smiles from the workers in the store
Met 'Paco' and we joked, he said, "If you want I always have work for you, maybe even a house."
Dave said just as the clock said finish work, "Could you clear out the clogged shit in the toilet?"
I smiled and danced as it was a good day today
Stirring the shit with a stick in Dave and Virginia's RV until with a couple of flushes it was clean
Got a call for a shop a rancher wants built and he too, was a Marine and a logger to boot!
We talked and laughed and he could not believe how little it would cost which made me smile
and laugh and now today is this very moment. A moment of memories and thoughts with
a dog or two or three...relaxing beside the chair
As for tomorrow, tomorrow is but another day
Snow plowing or sawing or maybe just watching the birds eat sunflower seeds
Regardless of how yesterday went or tomorrow, today was a good day.
Met 'Paco' and we joked, he said, "If you want I always have work for you, maybe even a house."
Dave said just as the clock said finish work, "Could you clear out the clogged shit in the toilet?"
I smiled and danced as it was a good day today
Stirring the shit with a stick in Dave and Virginia's RV until with a couple of flushes it was clean
Got a call for a shop a rancher wants built and he too, was a Marine and a logger to boot!
We talked and laughed and he could not believe how little it would cost which made me smile
and laugh and now today is this very moment. A moment of memories and thoughts with
a dog or two or three...relaxing beside the chair
As for tomorrow, tomorrow is but another day
Snow plowing or sawing or maybe just watching the birds eat sunflower seeds
Regardless of how yesterday went or tomorrow, today was a good day.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
I wondered briefly if fungi could come to be able to grasp a pencil and write.
Writing on this planet seems to be in the sole realm of humanity and yet...
Chernobyl shocker as fungi that eats radiation found inside nuclear reactor
a headline catching my attention today.
Imagine, life so tenacious it thrives with what human scientists say could not be. Scientists are a primitive lot, much more primitive than fungi. Yet they write papers, teach, debate and tell those inferior to them how it all should be....
Now, if I were to bet on the outcome of fungi or humans in the future, my money is definitely on fungi. And as such, the inspiration
*
99 percent of humanity are horrible indeed leaving 1 percent giving humanity a chance
99 is a much higher number than 1 while 1 could hardly compete against the weight of 99
thankfully there are other worlds to explore while leaving this one to the glow with excitement for the new citizen of this planet, the citizenry of fungi.
Writing on this planet seems to be in the sole realm of humanity and yet...
Chernobyl shocker as fungi that eats radiation found inside nuclear reactor
a headline catching my attention today.
Imagine, life so tenacious it thrives with what human scientists say could not be. Scientists are a primitive lot, much more primitive than fungi. Yet they write papers, teach, debate and tell those inferior to them how it all should be....
Now, if I were to bet on the outcome of fungi or humans in the future, my money is definitely on fungi. And as such, the inspiration
*
99 percent of humanity are horrible indeed leaving 1 percent giving humanity a chance
99 is a much higher number than 1 while 1 could hardly compete against the weight of 99
thankfully there are other worlds to explore while leaving this one to the glow with excitement for the new citizen of this planet, the citizenry of fungi.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Tawdry comes to mind
Bikini lines to show such reveal with curve appeal
Cleavage but a word falling short the pointier glance of such sight
Tracing like a grade school child from up to down, side to side, and getting lost in a rounded butt...
He was full of wonder or maybe a combination of intrigue and lust
Viewing painted toenail and finger
Hair long and soft
Bulges
Throbbing
Senses definitely aroused...
Amazing for Bill to be so consumed by her beauty when
Perfectly natural... A beautiful woman, an engorged man...
Maybe what makes it all surreal and different is Bill's vision of desire was once born with a penis and given the name of, Bob
or maybe for Bill,
he just had a thing for hairy feet?
Bikini lines to show such reveal with curve appeal
Cleavage but a word falling short the pointier glance of such sight
Tracing like a grade school child from up to down, side to side, and getting lost in a rounded butt...
He was full of wonder or maybe a combination of intrigue and lust
Viewing painted toenail and finger
Hair long and soft
Bulges
Throbbing
Senses definitely aroused...
Amazing for Bill to be so consumed by her beauty when
Perfectly natural... A beautiful woman, an engorged man...
Maybe what makes it all surreal and different is Bill's vision of desire was once born with a penis and given the name of, Bob
or maybe for Bill,
he just had a thing for hairy feet?
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Story of Floating Ash
down to and deeper
among the increasing sounds around
deep
deep
deep down until
to perch upon the top of the pyramid
with a calmness deep inside, a secure footing
clutching a mountain
balling the talons
grasping where moons are born and where moons die...
ancestors so long before Mother or Father
deeper than the depth of God's shadow
it is
it was
inviting
feasting, dancing, singing, and blowing through the fires of the throat
the smoke of wisdom and peace
watching the air itself come alive
building
creating
and then
they came...
they arrived from where nothing comes from
a blackness deeper than the pyramid
deep
deep
deep down until the very Mountain itself, shook
blowing hot emotions to invade the very Soul inpenetrable
but now, smoking the pipe while serene in the Deep
the moons still come to be born
just as they still come to die
and in the air above the eternal fire dances in a wild yet peaceful truce
knowing full well what would happen above
if the war was advanced to surrender or victory...
well, let it be said
it is
the Story itself
keeping the balance of Life and its reflection.
down to and deeper
among the increasing sounds around
deep
deep
deep down until
to perch upon the top of the pyramid
with a calmness deep inside, a secure footing
clutching a mountain
balling the talons
grasping where moons are born and where moons die...
ancestors so long before Mother or Father
deeper than the depth of God's shadow
it is
it was
inviting
feasting, dancing, singing, and blowing through the fires of the throat
the smoke of wisdom and peace
watching the air itself come alive
building
creating
and then
they came...
they arrived from where nothing comes from
a blackness deeper than the pyramid
deep
deep
deep down until the very Mountain itself, shook
blowing hot emotions to invade the very Soul inpenetrable
but now, smoking the pipe while serene in the Deep
the moons still come to be born
just as they still come to die
and in the air above the eternal fire dances in a wild yet peaceful truce
knowing full well what would happen above
if the war was advanced to surrender or victory...
well, let it be said
it is
the Story itself
keeping the balance of Life and its reflection.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
looking into their faces, feeling with vibrations, seeing the way they think truth and lies
both
are the same/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\//\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\\\///\\\//\/\/\/\\;;;,.
much like walking and skipping along the path, the same path in sunshine and rain...
it is easy to become personal, almost empathy, pity, wonder, frown, smile...
brought back to reality when realizing the word almost is always
the same.
he balanced on the ladder after hitting the weed, and with steady hand balanced the wall
while the legs underneath
gave way
outside though, among the wave of sound and voices, voices filled with anger and joy
the little yellow birds came
and today,
it was this bringing smiles and stability] keeping the mind sane.
***
"That's a bullshit bit of writing. What do you call it? A poem?"
Okay parasite, you bring instability, frowns, and a wonderful form of enjoyable chaos.
"Yeah? That's bullshit also... But, I do pass some wonderful noxious gas!" (poooooof!) (followed by a staccato of sharp reports)
(Gag!) Yes, yes that's true. So, for stopping by, a poem for you.
***
Black leather laced with barbed wire
Silver buckles upon high topped boots
Carrying her pose like a machine gun
A red rose dried in a bottle forgotten in a windowsill
Glass pane covered in dust
Dripping eaves outside to taunt the room
Parasite so foul yet full of ambitions
Seducing dolphins dressed like a...
*
Hey parasite. How do you dress when you chase dolphins?
"First off, muuuuch better poem. Anything with dolphins is A-okay with me. Secondly, I just bare it all for the dolphins to sea and feed ambrose."
Whatever, I'm gonna go watch television.
"Leave me the ice cream bowl to lick."
Okay.
both
are the same/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\\/\/\//\/\/\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\\\///\\\//\/\/\/\\;;;,.
much like walking and skipping along the path, the same path in sunshine and rain...
it is easy to become personal, almost empathy, pity, wonder, frown, smile...
brought back to reality when realizing the word almost is always
the same.
he balanced on the ladder after hitting the weed, and with steady hand balanced the wall
while the legs underneath
gave way
outside though, among the wave of sound and voices, voices filled with anger and joy
the little yellow birds came
and today,
it was this bringing smiles and stability] keeping the mind sane.
***
"That's a bullshit bit of writing. What do you call it? A poem?"
Okay parasite, you bring instability, frowns, and a wonderful form of enjoyable chaos.
"Yeah? That's bullshit also... But, I do pass some wonderful noxious gas!" (poooooof!) (followed by a staccato of sharp reports)
(Gag!) Yes, yes that's true. So, for stopping by, a poem for you.
***
Black leather laced with barbed wire
Silver buckles upon high topped boots
Carrying her pose like a machine gun
A red rose dried in a bottle forgotten in a windowsill
Glass pane covered in dust
Dripping eaves outside to taunt the room
Parasite so foul yet full of ambitions
Seducing dolphins dressed like a...
*
Hey parasite. How do you dress when you chase dolphins?
"First off, muuuuch better poem. Anything with dolphins is A-okay with me. Secondly, I just bare it all for the dolphins to sea and feed ambrose."
Whatever, I'm gonna go watch television.
"Leave me the ice cream bowl to lick."
Okay.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Owls Word
In the worlds fly the goose as emissary of seasons, trying to balance the sky and ground
In the World reign the watcher, hunter, friend, bringing sense to decisions
With a choice to travel and see
a magnificent construction of other worldly construction
home
barns
palace
ponds
lake
It was there the sword so old seemingly rejected and forgotten as the people worked and played and now once more, in hand
until...
They spoke the words silent causing all to walk in tears, unable to resist the path to the narrow
To jump and fall in anguish
Men, women, and children
Silent halls and radiant power, silent, subversive, evil
as the masters searched for what they knew was dangerous...
/\
\/
a canal now, flowing sweet water
filling an ocean
and allies whom one can depend
\/
/\
the owl now returned to sing and speak
to let go the warning
they are coming
very soon
again.
In the worlds fly the goose as emissary of seasons, trying to balance the sky and ground
In the World reign the watcher, hunter, friend, bringing sense to decisions
With a choice to travel and see
a magnificent construction of other worldly construction
home
barns
palace
ponds
lake
It was there the sword so old seemingly rejected and forgotten as the people worked and played and now once more, in hand
until...
They spoke the words silent causing all to walk in tears, unable to resist the path to the narrow
To jump and fall in anguish
Men, women, and children
Silent halls and radiant power, silent, subversive, evil
as the masters searched for what they knew was dangerous...
/\
\/
a canal now, flowing sweet water
filling an ocean
and allies whom one can depend
\/
/\
the owl now returned to sing and speak
to let go the warning
they are coming
very soon
again.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
and… within within, with will and way… deeper and deeper… ah yes… deeper than dreams…the layers are revealed….
*
"Wanna play hide-and-go-seek!"
What's up with you parasite, been playing in the weed patch again?
"On my goodness gosh gollygeez...no. I've changed. I'm going to grow up and being nice now! Wheee!
Yep. Parasite found a stash of Mr. Greenjean's medicinal anal frozen stash...
*
"Wanna play hide-and-go-seek!"
What's up with you parasite, been playing in the weed patch again?
"On my goodness gosh gollygeez...no. I've changed. I'm going to grow up and being nice now! Wheee!
Yep. Parasite found a stash of Mr. Greenjean's medicinal anal frozen stash...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
So much to write about but two caught the attention most: Thousands of fetal remains found in Illinois are buried in Indiana: ‘Horrifying to anyone with normal sensibilities’
or, an ad for soft pajamas you're supposed to buy your partner so they'll like it so much they will reward you with sex, or so the ad alludes.
so fuck it, not much inspiration but its been a long day.
*
Perception
Indignation, so hard won with ease
To confront opposing thoughts so hard
as if it could make anyone else
change
or
The allure of smiles, tits and ass
all for only the mere payment of coin for some Chinese sewn pajamas
plus free shipping
There is nothing wrong with this world, the place of such primitive views
It is a perfect zoo for the inhabitants running amuck fucking and killing
all while improving their credit scores
Hell, this prison does not even need bars or guards...
It has death as the warden
with politicians and evil keeping those who dare to dream good thoughts from happiness
while Rome reincarnated over and over
burns...
or, an ad for soft pajamas you're supposed to buy your partner so they'll like it so much they will reward you with sex, or so the ad alludes.
so fuck it, not much inspiration but its been a long day.
*
Perception
Indignation, so hard won with ease
To confront opposing thoughts so hard
as if it could make anyone else
change
or
The allure of smiles, tits and ass
all for only the mere payment of coin for some Chinese sewn pajamas
plus free shipping
There is nothing wrong with this world, the place of such primitive views
It is a perfect zoo for the inhabitants running amuck fucking and killing
all while improving their credit scores
Hell, this prison does not even need bars or guards...
It has death as the warden
with politicians and evil keeping those who dare to dream good thoughts from happiness
while Rome reincarnated over and over
burns...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
taste buds
stirred after diced
simmered after boiled
sizzled sensations filled with aroma
slicing steak
stealing the last slice of pie
such sweet tastes
and then, when full and savoring the meal
to sleep until hungry
once again.
stirred after diced
simmered after boiled
sizzled sensations filled with aroma
slicing steak
stealing the last slice of pie
such sweet tastes
and then, when full and savoring the meal
to sleep until hungry
once again.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Mu'i was there that evening of Council.
Elders of twin bloods; one to carry, one to give.
Drums announced with dancing sparks, until with hand raised, there was sudden silence.
Crackling sounds so much for such a tiny glow, there radiated the fire.
Without sound, without song, even the Elders faces were neutral.
Arms folded, the gathering was over.
Leaving among such a large crowd, one to include a world, left
billions of people
This is the judgement of appropriate voting the crime of ignorant
this the sounds of silence.
My name is Mu'i and what is, is...
Elders of twin bloods; one to carry, one to give.
Drums announced with dancing sparks, until with hand raised, there was sudden silence.
Crackling sounds so much for such a tiny glow, there radiated the fire.
Without sound, without song, even the Elders faces were neutral.
Arms folded, the gathering was over.
Leaving among such a large crowd, one to include a world, left
billions of people
This is the judgement of appropriate voting the crime of ignorant
this the sounds of silence.
My name is Mu'i and what is, is...
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
fires lf\\n// .............ight of solid sight
forgetting
the
reality
of
explosive
movement atop the blanket of sky.
forgetting
the
reality
of
explosive
movement atop the blanket of sky.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
wheels straddle the rails, content to conform in a firm direction
which is why I decided to dismantle it all
split the axle in two
discard the wheels
tear up and scrap the rails
at first people were dismayed
confused
not used too
as they too were content to conform in a firm direction
while they rode the rails
at first people felt emotions at such a sight ranging from anger to humor
then the people grew bored
since their own wheels demanded that they continue travel
finally, the weeds grew where once it was important
grass thrived
trees took root
...
alone now and with bare feet
the freedom of all paths yet to be made and traveled
leaving humanity to its demise as it clings to those wheels and rails
never to hear or understand the Winds whispers of inspiration
on a journey of the impossible.
which is why I decided to dismantle it all
split the axle in two
discard the wheels
tear up and scrap the rails
at first people were dismayed
confused
not used too
as they too were content to conform in a firm direction
while they rode the rails
at first people felt emotions at such a sight ranging from anger to humor
then the people grew bored
since their own wheels demanded that they continue travel
finally, the weeds grew where once it was important
grass thrived
trees took root
...
alone now and with bare feet
the freedom of all paths yet to be made and traveled
leaving humanity to its demise as it clings to those wheels and rails
never to hear or understand the Winds whispers of inspiration
on a journey of the impossible.
Re: Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]
Daddy still butt-f***ing you?': Pro-abortion thugs — one with nifty pentagram necklace — gang up on pro-lifer, allegedly bump, grab, and even lick her
Humor is found in a lot of writing. Take Shakespeare, the guy was a hoot. Knew nothing about writing but fooled a lot of people, and still does.
Now, the above headline is predictable being it represents the soul of humanity. And it competes with another fun headline of a Islamic lad stabbing a 13 year old boy to death for mocking Islam, the true 'religion' of peace... but wait, there's more! The family of the slain boy is suing the store that sold the knife to the Islamic warrior of peace.
And then, to top it off, President Obama says the current economic boom for the United States is because of his administration while clinging to how the previous Bush was responsible for how bad the economy was during his administration... What a gut buster!
Why write about such shit? Why not should be the question. Sure, it is easy to get reactions from people of like mind or opposite and for me I could give a rats ass if a religion wants to beat women and walk around a moon rock in Mecca or some lesbians want to kill babies, it is America after all, a land of tolerance as long as you agree with the angry mob.
But for all the warnings given. For all the ample evidence even the Sun itself has given. People have decided in their choice. Writers have given voice. And a world literally shouts.
And people wonder why 'alien' life has not yet made 'contact'? Man oh man, is this world in for a surprise.
Humor indeed! Just wait for the punch line. And therein, there has to be some inspiration.
***
A man walked with open eyes among a world of blindness
He asked a woman, "Could you help me?"
She replied, "Who are you? You are not from here, so, go away."
The man kept walking and no one looked at him, no one could see him
He asked a man, "Could you help me?"
He replied, "You are not visible to me. You do not exist. Go away."
Time passed as generation after generation continued in accepted blindness
He asked a boy, "Could you help me?"
The boy said, "I'm not allowed to talk with strangers. Go away."
The world changed and still the man walked many paths
He asked a girl, "Could you help me?"
The girl said, "You are a strange man. You dress funny and stink. Go away."
The man pondered for many many years. Entire forests grew from fallow ground, died and the soil tilled, and grew again only to die again. Finally the man looked down into a clear pool of water and asked the reflection, "Could you help me?"
Ripples formed on the surface and the reflection said, "Why do you ask for help when you already know the answer?"
With a slight pause the man said, "Yes. Yes you are correct." And with slow, tired steps carried by legs older than eternal, he removed a box from his cloak and with a key in his hand taken from the resting place in his very palm, he inserted the key into the box and with a sigh, opened the lid.
What happened next was not seen by those billions of blind generations, but it was felt. It was felt to the very core of being.
With his walk over, the man disappeared into the Sun, taking his shadow with him. Finally he could go back to sleep.
Humor is found in a lot of writing. Take Shakespeare, the guy was a hoot. Knew nothing about writing but fooled a lot of people, and still does.
Now, the above headline is predictable being it represents the soul of humanity. And it competes with another fun headline of a Islamic lad stabbing a 13 year old boy to death for mocking Islam, the true 'religion' of peace... but wait, there's more! The family of the slain boy is suing the store that sold the knife to the Islamic warrior of peace.
And then, to top it off, President Obama says the current economic boom for the United States is because of his administration while clinging to how the previous Bush was responsible for how bad the economy was during his administration... What a gut buster!
Why write about such shit? Why not should be the question. Sure, it is easy to get reactions from people of like mind or opposite and for me I could give a rats ass if a religion wants to beat women and walk around a moon rock in Mecca or some lesbians want to kill babies, it is America after all, a land of tolerance as long as you agree with the angry mob.
But for all the warnings given. For all the ample evidence even the Sun itself has given. People have decided in their choice. Writers have given voice. And a world literally shouts.
And people wonder why 'alien' life has not yet made 'contact'? Man oh man, is this world in for a surprise.
Humor indeed! Just wait for the punch line. And therein, there has to be some inspiration.
***
A man walked with open eyes among a world of blindness
He asked a woman, "Could you help me?"
She replied, "Who are you? You are not from here, so, go away."
The man kept walking and no one looked at him, no one could see him
He asked a man, "Could you help me?"
He replied, "You are not visible to me. You do not exist. Go away."
Time passed as generation after generation continued in accepted blindness
He asked a boy, "Could you help me?"
The boy said, "I'm not allowed to talk with strangers. Go away."
The world changed and still the man walked many paths
He asked a girl, "Could you help me?"
The girl said, "You are a strange man. You dress funny and stink. Go away."
The man pondered for many many years. Entire forests grew from fallow ground, died and the soil tilled, and grew again only to die again. Finally the man looked down into a clear pool of water and asked the reflection, "Could you help me?"
Ripples formed on the surface and the reflection said, "Why do you ask for help when you already know the answer?"
With a slight pause the man said, "Yes. Yes you are correct." And with slow, tired steps carried by legs older than eternal, he removed a box from his cloak and with a key in his hand taken from the resting place in his very palm, he inserted the key into the box and with a sigh, opened the lid.
What happened next was not seen by those billions of blind generations, but it was felt. It was felt to the very core of being.
With his walk over, the man disappeared into the Sun, taking his shadow with him. Finally he could go back to sleep.