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Latest Threads
Hell Oh
Forum: Introductions and Greetings
Last Post: Squircifer
11-15-2018, 12:29 PM
» Replies: 4
» Views: 232
The Visit
Forum: Short Stories
Last Post: Squircifer
10-28-2018, 05:21 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 52
Memories Fade
Forum: Dark Poetry
Last Post: Squircifer
10-28-2018, 05:14 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 45
First Crush
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: Doe-eyed Atheist
10-28-2018, 04:41 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 51
The Mountain
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: Doe-eyed Atheist
10-28-2018, 04:39 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 46
A New Day
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: Doe-eyed Atheist
10-28-2018, 04:38 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 41
Fleeting Embrace
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: Doe-eyed Atheist
10-28-2018, 04:36 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 43
Angel Flow
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: Squircifer
10-10-2018, 08:18 AM
» Replies: 1
» Views: 118
Ascent (unfinished)
Forum: Short Stories
Last Post: DeconvertedMan
10-03-2018, 08:59 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 95
Its you and me
Forum: General Poetry
Last Post: DeconvertedMan
10-03-2018, 08:57 AM
» Replies: 0
» Views: 86

 
  The Visit
Posted by: Squircifer - 10-28-2018, 05:21 AM - Forum: Short Stories - No Replies

  • Scene: The young lady appraoches a shady tree with a small bench besides it, overlooking the plot of grass with her back to us, we hear the voice of a young man speaking to her as she sits upon the bench ......
  • "Hello.
    Has it been that long already? It seems as though your last visit was yesterday. And an eternity till now.
    I have missed you so much. But you know that don't you? I know, I know, you miss me I can see it. I can
    feel it. Oh my, flowers for me? Hon, you shouldn`t have......

    Sorry I have not prepared for your visit, I know you were to come today, but I have not prepared. Sorry. I hope you understand. I would have loved to drink with you again. A lovely dinner would have been the greatest. You forgive me? Thank you. You always were a wonderful person.
    What have you been doing in your life? How are you? Spare me no details.... I lived for this information. I never get out anymore since that day......... shhh shhh I know, please don`t cry. It was a long time ago. Yes I know it still hurts. It always will. We will always remember that day.
    Yes, the weather is nice today. I was hoping it would be for your visit. The sun makes you look so pretty, and the way it brings out the beauty in you, is pricelss. I am glad. I know, I always loved the sun in the park with you, and walking outdoors. It was wonderful was it not? Yes. I still cherish those memories. Yes I do. Remember that one day? The day we went for the walk in the woods, and it started to rain, and thunder? Yes..... we did run for that old house didn`t we? Lucky for us it was open and empty. Yes, and dry. I rememeber. I remember holding you in my arms as well..... yes and that too. There`s my girl... I lived for that smile.
    What? Oh yes it is late, my the time flew today. I know, I am suprised as well. Yes I know, you must go. I understand. I will miss you as well. You will always be my light, shhh shhh, I know. I will always be here. You know that. Okay, go now, shh... it`s okay really...... I know, the flowers are lovely. Prettier than last year..... they will hold for a long time. Yes, on the right side dear heart... next to the candle. It will make them glow in the night air. Bye my heart, I will always love you......... yes go , till next time."
  • As the tears well in her eyes, she silently places the flowers upon the grave and walks away..........
Squircifer

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  Memories Fade
Posted by: Squircifer - 10-28-2018, 05:14 AM - Forum: Dark Poetry - No Replies

Cherished experience held within,
at one time as clear as day,
but,
with each passing moment they begin,
to elude our grasp, and fade to grey.

Memories triggered bring a smile,
to the face with
a thought,
of triumphs and failures in life's long mile..
of which in the end all is naught.

With reluctant breath, we breathe a sigh,
seeking comfort in the autumn shade
as life comes to an end, and we die,
when all the memories fade...


Squircifer

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  First Crush
Posted by: Doe-eyed Atheist - 10-28-2018, 04:41 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

That lovely morning, when I saw you fully for the first time.

Dancing in the dawn light, kicking sand up around us

Your irrepressable laughter rising above the crashing waves

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  The Mountain
Posted by: Doe-eyed Atheist - 10-28-2018, 04:39 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

You are my mountain 

Powerful, constant, breathtaking

I yearn to explore each of your paths

To trace them with insatiable hands

Every moment with you is the summit

I am elevated in your presence

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  A New Day
Posted by: Doe-eyed Atheist - 10-28-2018, 04:38 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

Let the day begin.

Draw back the curtains to your heart.

It is still beating.

Same as yesterday but stronger now. 

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  Fleeting Embrace
Posted by: Doe-eyed Atheist - 10-28-2018, 04:36 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

Our foundation cracked.

Love built on shifting sand. 

I held you for a moment, a fleeting embrace.

You were never mine to keep. 

You danced into the wind

Like the dandelions I pinned my wishes on. 

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  Ascent (unfinished)
Posted by: DeconvertedMan - 10-03-2018, 08:59 AM - Forum: Short Stories - No Replies

Feel free  to finish this or whatever I guess. 


Ascent
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sequancing the genome of the human DNA was simple for the vast banks of computer power at the Equanox labs, the system required vast power, of course as well as for climate control, the room was keeped at a very low temputre, and the policy if you had to go in was white suit only, the suit was like a spacesuit of sorts, designed to keep out dust, air, anything and everything that could mess with the billon dolar machines. 
All this raw power to now just sequance the code, but to also understand it, something that they were very, very close to now, the 3D printers could, and did print living organisems from cells, they were able to incode several lab mice allready, it was just a matter of injecting the DNA into an empty cell, and telling it that it was fertalized, and birth began. From chemicals flowing into the machine to live birth was only limited by how fast gestation occured, something that they had manulaped into days rather then months. 
The mice still lived, although it was unknown if they would have full lives and medical testing was done on them every day,  they were in good health. There was pressure to go to the next step - humans. Make a human, from scratch, so to speak.
What the director Seraph wanted to know was if she could make a flawless human. Since they had the code, remove the bits that were unesary - the junk DNA, make bones better, make skin better, make the organs better. Why have an airway blockable by food consumption? Seperate would be better, or - perhaps use plant RNA and have photosenisis, the human would not even be human - it would be metahuman, more - something new, something with far less flaws. Able to see a better range of the spectrum, able to hear more, able to do more with its tounge, able to smell more, and so on and so forth. The proposed changes she had in store were a litteral overhaul of what it was to be a person, the brain being the key component, but it all started at the genetic level. Tell the cell what to do, and it would do it. Tell it to build something, and it would do it. Give it enough engery, and you had life.
She played with her pink beeds that she had on her arm, she wore them as a bracelet, each one had a symble on it from languges, pictrograms, hyrogliphs, katana - as she felt the smooth feature of the ball on her skin she reminded herself that nothing truely touched because of the way the electromagnetic realm worked - if only she could control that as well as she could control life, and she smiled to herself, looking to her left, the lab over there was decated to such a feat - finding a way to play with atoms and rearange them - build something from the smallest thing to the largest, they had made a very, very small amount of salt, it had taken them twenty years and trillans of dolars to do so, but they had done it. 
It wasn't enough, she wanted to shape the way things behaved - how? How was always the question, and to her right was a small office, where one man worked, payed more then anyone else was - although no one but her knew this, if you spoke to him you would have called him insain, and perhaps he was. Perhaps he saw the unvierse too clearly. He had nothing but papers and sketches around his office, no computer - just penciles and paper and shavings of the pencels, pink erraser dust littered his floor, he would pace back and forth muttering to himself then jot down something, then repeat.  His name was Shakti,  and he was a force onto himself, he was going to come up with a way to start from scratch, start everything, to seed a universe - or so he claimed and believed, and she belved he could do it.
And she turned to face the front again, the massive lab of computers, tinkering with the building blocks of life. They said she had a god-complex. They knew nothing. Her drive was beyond what the gods of myth claimed to do, where they had inperfections - her goal was to make something perfect. If possible.

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  Its you and me
Posted by: DeconvertedMan - 10-03-2018, 08:57 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

"Its you and me"

Isis is on the move, cant you see? Can't you see? America what will become of us if we don't suceed? Its you and me. Oh can't you see?
The rise of the marxist idelogy, hidden well in our university - until it was to late, unleashed on we, the sjws and post modern idelogy - there goal to kill western socity!

Unite or fail our destiny. Unite or fail, our destiny! What will become of you and me?

Social justice, on the rise seemed like a good idea but it will be our demise, oh look over there someone died, a rise to arms black lives matter is alive, will white survive, keep saying white is the problem then Trump arives - blame it on him, and surmise that its not your fault, but will we survive?
Oh! What will happen to you and me, if we don't unite, our destinys? What will become of the USA if we can't agree on anything? What will happen to you and me, if everything is split, down the middle it falls apart! Ohh, no... oh no.

Devided we fail, thats what they need, they don't see it - that utopia can not suceed. Look at it anfita using masks to hide there faces what cowards - do they have no pride?! Tearing down statues now what the hell, here comes the kkk and neo-nazis too, what the hell - who invited you? The left the right the black the white, the weak the strong the wrong the right, tear us apart and do not unite oh don't you see? What can it be?

What will happen to you and me? If we dont unite our destiny? We will fall apart, and someone else - who else don't know who else will suceed.... but the USA will fall apart as we can't say words and we can not speak get fired for wrong think, fake news and some nukes from north korea on are there way, what can we do? We fight. We fight each other, we lose our hearts, we dont succeed- and what will become of you and me?
Of you and me... of you and me.... unles we unite... our destiny?

OUR DESTINY!

Oh what will, become... of you and me?

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  The Invisible Magistrate.
Posted by: DeconvertedMan - 10-03-2018, 08:55 AM - Forum: General Poetry - No Replies

The Invisible Magistrate.

Within the fields of life, looking left and looking right, no one knows, no one sees, no one cares, is there anyone that exists
Other then me? Is it here, is it there, is it anywhere? Over there, no its in here, my non-existence soul cry's out for a god that is not there, no afterlife above, no fire below, nothing to do other then wait for the next moment to call. Crying out loud, in my head, sometimes wishing, that I was dead, yet alone, time fly's, anther moment passes by, one more day and a bit of dread, shattered crystal tear drops, endless loops of thoughts in my head. Yet I don't cry, for there is no more tears, no more water, its all dry. One day, when I die, will they even know, will they even care, will they miss me when I am not there? Will they play my vids, will they tell my kids?

Will there be anyone to cry over my body or will it only be the few that knew me when I was there to see? What is this life, and what does it mean? No answers, just more questions, flowing energy, hopeful yet can not see, who is this person I call me?

Invisible, inaudible, unspeakable, unheard, can't see, darkness and void, day and night cycles, all pass over me. Magistrate, magistrate have pity on me! Call out! No god, and no one there to see, crying for help, yet life passes right by me. 

Critics scorn, friends drift away from me, so called friends, who are not there for me. Passing me by, like I'm a pariah, and they do not see, just how much there actions and non actions and words and deeds hurt me. Or if they do, they don't care, maybe they do hate me.

Emotions, overflow, logic blending, striving for destiny. Looking here, looking there, calling out for that invisible magistrate to
Make my sentence less, I throw myself on this courts mercy. I'm to blame, there's no doubt, things went wrong here and there and now.

Time and again, can't see, what the hell is my destiny? Looking here, looking there, looking fucking everywhere, yet no one can see, the pain, the scars and the things all inside of me. Yet who am I to complain, look at those people, suffering, don't have a damn thing to eat, how dare I complain when they are just begging for it to rain, so they can drink, and yes - they stink, no one is there to bring them a damn thing to eat. 

The pain, the suffering, its not just the only thing, its to much for any one person to do anything about, hope - what a joke, people send thoughts and prayers, what the good are those when you are not going there? When even I, who writes and sings and complains about all these things, I'm just sitting here, doing nothing. Who am I to complain anyway? The gavel falls, my sentence is coming in, am I innocent or guilty? And what is it that I'm accused of anyway? I cry out, look to see, yet there is no magistrate, its just me.

I judge myself, like so many other else. We all do this, from time to time, we all think. Sometimes words like this, sometimes things we can't even speak. And are we so week? Are we glad when we are strong? Is it hard to go on? We must stand, we must not fail, we must help each other to set sail.
We can overcome all this we see, even if there is no invisible magistrate.
~~~

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  Angel Flow
Posted by: DeconvertedMan - 10-03-2018, 08:53 AM - Forum: General Poetry - Replies (1)

Angel flow, flying from the sky, alights onto the hill, way up high.

Folding in, her delicate wings, she begins to sing in the dream.

Who is she? Will I ever know? Maybe I might find out who she is under that tree, as hope and fear run though me.

Destiny , I've tried to rewrite it so many times, but each time its sad.

The whimsical angel sings, looking like a royal lady, up on high above, come and see.

All the dreamers come, from far and wide, to hear her music as if on a ride.

Her song is at an end, a single tear falls for her friends, caught by one lucky knight, the tear is a star, it shines so bright.

Then she ascends into the sky, becomes a star far to high. Then those brave enough
to hope to see, quest for that star, eternally.

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