Nicht schlecht, Herr Specht! Sagte der Baum und fiel um.
Dream: Cute Simulation GameWhile wasting time in front of the ISP-hosted underground amusement park/university I explain to two elderly Russian women (they are surprised that I speak Russian), that against my own expectations the underground amusement park is not a rip-off and that there even is a delicious confection, which one can have for free and in unlimited quantities. I give them a piece each.
The following takes place on a small square grassland in front of the entrance to the underground amusement park. I play a game with four cute miniature people (each of them the size of a finger), who harvest wood from two trees and re-plant them after complete exploitation. They walk freely without being bound to roads. Along with wood, they collect fruit from fruit trees. I consider letting them plant two fields of crops for harvesting. Their housing and storage consists of one building made from wood only, so they probably do not require rock as a building material.
One of the people manages to get stuck on a pat
DosentomatenTomaten in Dosen
Brauch' ich für Soßen
Für Penne, Nudeln und Spaghetti
Ketschup ist eklig
Was essbares daraus zu machen
Ich brauche keine Pizzen
Ich brauch kein Glutamin
Hollari, Hollari, Hollero
Ich züchte selber Nudeln
Und esse sie dann Roh
Hollari, Hollari, Hollero
PoetreeNOTE: The poem should have the shape of a tree. If it looks messy, your monitor is too narrow. Press "Ctrl" and "-" until it fits into your monitor, or follow the link in the author's comments. Thank you!
In darkness sweet I dream I sleep; my fate to wait till time is ripe
A tender leaf curled in the seed, an idea that would be freed
I dream of bra
October EyesSuch gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades.
A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades.
Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies,
So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes.
Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs,
Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms.
With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies,
The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.
Mother EarthShe has suns for eyes,
and oceans for tears,
a blade of grass for each hair,
and wisdom beyond her years.
Rage like an earthquake,
sorrow as deep as the sea,
madness funneled like a hurricane,
joy blooming so vividly, kings fall to their knee.
Her skin is a motley,
with hues so dark and bright,
she sleeps during the day,
and lays awake at night.
She has the universe for a heart,
and the cosmos burn in her soul,
however, humanity's blindness,
is at last taking its toll.
The Maxberg Archaeopteryx
I waited in a tiny house without a light or door,
That each progressing day was slightly smaller than before,
Until I felt the sudden urge to break and struggle free.
I came into the world in only natal feathers dressed,
Among my likewise siblings in an interwoven nest,
Atop a shrub amid a land surrounded by the sea.
Each day my father came to us with smaller lives to eat,
As slowly I grew larger and my feathers more complete.
Along my longest finger formed a broad and glossy wing.
With wings to press me forward I could climb an upright wall,
And now the nest where I had dwelt was also strangely small,
And I could not ignore the larger island's beckoning.
My wings had grown sufficient to support my weight in air,
And prey could now be chased and won without my father's care.
Observing my lagoon-encircled kingdom from above,
Another hunger came to me beyond the quest for food,
To recreate on my behalf my natal nest and brood,
And prove to a companion my deserving of her love.
WolvesThe Howl The Night
Did Not Oppose
By Justin Borer
In the forest on this cold, misty, moonlit night.
Nature is calm and quiet with not a soul in sight.
The silence continues, nothing trying to fight.
Then moonlight shines through the trees.
The light continues to flow like a calm breeze.
Casting shadows upon the lonly leaves.
A branch snaps breaking the somber silence.
Something in the darkness moves showing its defiance.
The forest shifts reluctantly to this act of violence.
Through the shadow the moon helps soothe.
This figure has nothing to prove.
Steathy and strong it continued to move.
The figure emerged from the darkness to cast its own shadow.
Through its grey and black fur the wind does blow.
With its pointed ears every creature it does know.
The creature sat on the ground and looked at the starry sky.
He felt alone, that, no one could deny.
through its bluish-gray eyes it wondered why.
He looked up at the bright full moon.
He let out a howl and held its desperate tune.
Dead Trees in December
dead trees in december
sprawl their fingers towards the sky
leave her light a muted ember
and hide her breath from the eye
lying half buried beneath the glow
the crimson blood that did spill
upon the earth six feet below
dying slowly with the chill
and crystalline tears float elegantly down
from pupil-less eyes framed by her face forever pale
and they brush the ground without a sound
and with their peers complete the veil
that rests innocently atop death's brow
just below the silent boughs
of dead trees in december
Ode To A RaindropThe first cool drop of water
Released from the skyward mist
On an autumn afternoon
Traverses my sweaty brow
A welcome kiss of beauty
That small elegant raindrop
With fervent haste foreshadows
A wild tempest soon to come
Quenching the earth of its thirst
After long summer months
The drop rivulets across
The surface of my forehead
And I gaze into the heavens
Each subsequent water drop
Is another baptism
Orb of NightThey say the stars will guide you home,
so there, I stare, when I’m alone
Roaming through the vacant air,
my pale skin chilled, for I am bare
I hope my glow can pierce the night,
my pitted skin, emitting light
My dark shadows, they do roam-
Maybe they will guide me home
And as the birds fly through the sky,
I solemnly must say goodbye
They flap their wings, and fly due south-
Will they lead me to my house?
And then the sun peeks through the hill,
and I, myself, feel rather ill
I give to her, a kiss goodnight,
and go to sleep, as she sheds light
I’ll come again, and see her soon,
Signed with sincerity,
To SummerRealm of new gold, and blue-hot raging sun,
Yellow kept kingdom of the spilling fields;
Blind under burning filaments that run
Like blood from the bursting heads of corn,
As sultry woods dapple with bluebell peals
And all the summer fruits of swallows song;
Are shaded by kestrels, glaring overhead
And jealous ponds are broken by the stares;
Of swollen mayflies, peering from the dead.
Bright Hyperion, who had never seen,
The dark side of the earth give birth to thoughts
That were not vanquished by a fiery screen
Of sunrise through his airy crystal courts.
Who glowing like a distant neutron star,
Passed his hours with the lightest heart,
Of all the gods that trod an ancient path,
When fledgling then came rising Jupiter,
To fell the giant from his roaring part,
And cast him down onto an ashen hearth.
Look not upon the lion faced season
Or its brazen path for answers to life,
But take the moment to trace the horizon,
And float on the seconds flooded with light.
Drink of t