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
On AyalaBeneath the trees, betwixt the stately pines,
the Lady and her beastly Lord see all.
The wealdkin loose their tongues and raise their heads
to lift the forest heart with secret songs.
And in their verdant halls, the twain hold court,
attended by the eagle, fox, and hart,
accepting tribute, as is their just due.
A force of heroes, sleeping at their feet,
lie cold and white, until the time shall come
to rise again and fly beyond the mists
in service to the King Returned. But now
a time more yet must pass before they wake,
and life shall slumber still within their veins
until the Lord and Lady call them back
to take their place in wicked earth again.
Then those twain shall rule the city and the wold,
and stone and steel and murder be laid low,
for where the gods of Life should choose to tread,
no grief can fall nor human psyche know
the sting of death. The night will be here soon
when maid and beast will dance beneath the moon.
Elemental WolfI am the stellar wolf.
With eyes of amber,
Which hold fallen stars,
And that reflect the moon's glow.
I am the Inferno wolf.
With my fiery heart,
That burns for a mate.
And the passion to run free.
I am the Aquatic wolf.
With my liquid movements,
That help calm my pack,
In times of confusion and pain.
I am the Wooded wolf.
With my pine needle fur,
That stands on end in fury,
When danger threatens my pack.
I am the Aero wolf.
With my bone chilling growls,
And my light hearted howls,
That reach even the heavens in the sky.
I am the Earthen wolf.
With my sand paper paws,
That help me grip,
And rip into the earth when I run.
I am the Elemental wolf.
Though I may seem strange,
With all my forms,
I am actually one.
With one heart,
I am the wolf.
Forest fairiesThe night covers the woods
With its black satin sky
River streams, the moon gleams
Call forth small creatures, shy
Like stars sparkle, far away
Their wings glitter 'mong the mist
Emerging from the oldest trees
Believed not to exist
Sneaking by the silver stream
Deep in the forest's clutch
Only visible in the place
That humans left untouched
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.
Where Only I am PresentI tread along the rain-worn streets
Of urban sprawls whose dwellers sleep
In pied quilts or a lover's fold,
Minds filled with easy, pleasant dreams.
Within the hour, young and old
Will rise for what the day might hold,
With vigor’s kiss on beating breasts,
To ward from winter's ice and cold.
The maples bow to winds' duress -
Adorned in frost, their Sunday best;
Though as for snow upon the ground,
Such sparsity does ill impress.
I cleave my path without a sound,
As if to shore the magic wound
Throughout the city's empty sweep
Where only I am present bound.
'Ware The Fae
'Ware The Fae
To those who walk the secret places,
By the meres
Through shadowed night and mornings bright
When deft sunlight
Through branches spears,
O'er the hills and e'er anon
When heights are won
And clouds enfold,
Or diving 'mongst the reefs of gold
And sights untold
And floating there,
Who, ming'ling with creatures of old
And fishes bold
And mermaids' hair,
Patrol the surf and dunes of sand
Along the strand
For the call
From Neptune's hall
Where the seashells slide and glisten
You who sleep among desert stars
When camel cars
Who through the dust and on the prowl
With coyotes' howl
To those whose tracks lead ever back
To leafy scenes,
In jungles green,
And those who cross great grassy plains
You who hearken to the Lady's call
And see it all
That she unveils for you to share,
If finding there
Then be aware that if you dare
If you use care:
You will find
That which ever onward trails
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
Into the LightThe moon tonight is, simply, a white note
adrift, spinning. It patiently tracks the breeze
on the edge of genesis, floating in motes
of static. On the surface, it seems at ease.
Light filters through oak leaves and coats
its thrall, the summer heat's slow weave
through the river's margins to the throat
of the sea. Small fish leap up to tease
the moon tonight. Simply, this white note
rotates its body like thread released
from reel, alters its position over nodes
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