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
Call of BlackbirdsThe call of blackbirds fills the sky,
A mass of darkened wings.
They come with tiny trumpets and
Announce the coming spring.
The TreesTHE TREES
The trees drifted in the breeze,
There lied a trap,
betwixt the sap.
A hunter, a killer,
asunder, a triller.
One day a warrior, much more than a man,
walked into town with his sword in hand.
He walked past the shops,
he walked through the village.
where eager eyes were ready,
Then he came to the trees
a wall of green...
A man ran up and said,
"Sir don't go through there!
Or the grave of the others,
you also shall share."
So the warrior walked in,
a grim look on his face.
walking with caution,
into this dark place... but of the trickster he could not find a trace.
Presently, the coward was running,
because he knew the strong one was coming.
He ran and ran right out of the woods,
taking with him his weapons and goods.
These trees were now restful,
tranquil, without harm,
without this great warrior
even lifting his arm.
One should never worry....One should never worry about the future, but wisely create it through intelligent future choices and actions. Of course to do this, you must draw from your past lessons that gave you experience and knowledge...
Bird of Perfectionvintage winged creation
worded paper perfection
parchment fanned feather
spread out for fine weather
elegantly crafted creature
a beady eyed treasure
red pastel painted chest
sculptured by the best
beauty from head to tail
this bird of great detail
on slender gripped feet
dark, sleek and complete
perched neatly on my finger
but for a moment to linger
© Lissie Bull 2014
Death of a RoseCold, cold heart of death
laying on the hard ground
exposed to the elements
never making a sound
no plea for assistance
or demands to be warmed
for this frozen rose
remains there fully formed
its rich velvety petals
red against the grey gravel
stand out so vividly
no more will it travel
decorated with droplets
of fine powdery snow
this once beautiful rose
remains there still aglow
in its dying moments
its scent lingers on
frozen in time now
until the following dawn!
© Lissie Bull 2014
Though true my senses became nullified,
Become with me this woven tapestry,
A sarcophagus for I today have died,
And now you too balm me to a mummy,
I too know you, you wind these bandages,
What you want is to extract my organs,
You do not care about the shortages,
Help me please save me from this true Gorgon,
But now my death will haunt you constantly,
I will not leave your side lover of mine,
That fateful day you chose to murder me,
I hope you are happy you artful swine,
As you will wait on you dear friend Death’s bed,
I welcome you to the place of undead.
29. Dark (tinted world)A tidal wave of secrets
crashes to the ground
coating it in silence
muffling all around
This soothing shroud of beauty
still drips with sounds at peace
from the reverent little creatures
the world knows of least
They trickle through the shadows
and float among the leaves
hidden in obscurity
and sheltered by the trees
This tinted world of splendor
quickly drains away
dried up by the fear
of opaqueness in the day.
The BlackbirdHi! Thanks for reading. I love writing these, and feedback, challenges, or requests are always appreciated and without further ado, here is prompt number five!
Silvery flakes drifted down, glittering in the bright light of the harvest moon. The blackbird swooped down…
Silvery flakes drifted down,
Glittering in the bright light of the Harvest Moon.
The Blackbird swooped down and landed on a brittle branch.
He watched the forest floor.
Beneath a blanket of snow, the Earth slept,
And nothing stirred.
Nothing, save the Blackbird.
At length he raised his head the sunset Moon.
The forest relayed its restless cry
Through the Wind,
Through the Branches,
Through the falling Flakes.
With shrill cries the Blackbird answered,
Then wings spread, flew away.
And the Earth stirred no more.
I hope it was worthwhile. I think it was.
The Martyrdom of Leaves in AutumnAutumn blazes forth with love,
A love that, greening, climbing, grew
Through summer's heat, baptized with dew,
Sustained from springtime's seedlings new,
Til ripened, filled to bursting through,
Exulting, greets its time to die.
For God had planted nature's birth,
With love He scattered sunlight's glow,
With love He showered water's flow,
With love He breathed the windy blow,
And thus, when plants soon die in snow,
His garden burns with love returned.