Eligos
Problem Yet to be Solved
Violation creates the clause by which we demand golden spheres in which are locked the great creators who defy the existence greater or lesser beings
The Surrealist / Stream of Thought writing Thread
- Thread starter AchrisK
- Start date
divine_torture
leVel
Eligos
Problem Yet to be Solved
DarkBliss
...And okra for all
I like this. It mostly has a flow like the ones I like to write. I feel the end gets a little bumpy, but overall I like it.
Grand bi-particles of shimmering sleeves of macaroni tunics glance off of the sheer terror of snowy icepicks while inaugural bathbulbs similarly implode. This all forms an impenetrable glow of morbidly happy samples which in turn liberate the foes among us. Four to six feet later, all known hemispheres appear to fall off, resulting in the aforementioned smile.
V.V.V.V.V.
Houses Ov Mercury
DarkBliss
...And okra for all
Slumber party girls dancing in the streets
Kicking all the braces off the horses' teeth.
Smelly cauliflowers baking in the sun
licking all the liches off the girls' tongues.
Morbid chiropractors prancing in their kilts
Pasting little cherries to the lasses' tits.
Giant dirigables floating in the sky
Sending paratroopers to suck their fingers dry.
Gallant baboon riders traversing the slums
Echoing the blastbeats of King Arthur's drums
Lumbering arachnid terrorize the town
It's time to say goodbye, apocalypse's begun.
Kicking all the braces off the horses' teeth.
Smelly cauliflowers baking in the sun
licking all the liches off the girls' tongues.
Morbid chiropractors prancing in their kilts
Pasting little cherries to the lasses' tits.
Giant dirigables floating in the sky
Sending paratroopers to suck their fingers dry.
Gallant baboon riders traversing the slums
Echoing the blastbeats of King Arthur's drums
Lumbering arachnid terrorize the town
It's time to say goodbye, apocalypse's begun.
Einherjar86
Active Member
A woman in black, at a table for two,
Sits down with man all dressed in blue
Whose lips, they twist; a formaldehyde smile,
And verminous veins, so viscous and vile.
With gloved hands she raises the veil from her face
To give the impression of sorrow and grace,
And leans and places a kiss on his cheek
And whispers a prayer she only can speak.
Her mind reels back to her innocence scorned –
When first she was told that she had been warned
Of the pain and penitence that flesh begets;
This sick reminiscence she surely regrets.
The first time they met, at Jean de la Fontaine,
The first she took pleasure at taking his name.
Trying to tell: is he Polish… Jewish?
The Jews are all dead, the Poles are all foolish.
Could she be more lucid in legend or fable?
There’s no doubt that she was most certainly able.
His casket she asked to be made of wastebasket,
Could a sharper insult have been made in a mask? It
Had seemed much more splendid; a fine idea then,
As she made out his will with a felt-tipped pen.
Quite clever she thought, and it proved to be true.
A woman in black and a man in blue…
Sits down with man all dressed in blue
Whose lips, they twist; a formaldehyde smile,
And verminous veins, so viscous and vile.
With gloved hands she raises the veil from her face
To give the impression of sorrow and grace,
And leans and places a kiss on his cheek
And whispers a prayer she only can speak.
Her mind reels back to her innocence scorned –
When first she was told that she had been warned
Of the pain and penitence that flesh begets;
This sick reminiscence she surely regrets.
The first time they met, at Jean de la Fontaine,
The first she took pleasure at taking his name.
Trying to tell: is he Polish… Jewish?
The Jews are all dead, the Poles are all foolish.
Could she be more lucid in legend or fable?
There’s no doubt that she was most certainly able.
His casket she asked to be made of wastebasket,
Could a sharper insult have been made in a mask? It
Had seemed much more splendid; a fine idea then,
As she made out his will with a felt-tipped pen.
Quite clever she thought, and it proved to be true.
A woman in black and a man in blue…
Eligos
Problem Yet to be Solved
"Crandestination!" quacks the lavish landlord, beguiled by waking moments beneath a windy whipswept willow. The outcry of a bendy buxom bizzaro raises the question, "From whence cometh mine own flag?"
V.V.V.V.V.
Houses Ov Mercury
zabu of nΩd
Free Insultation
- Feb 9, 2007
- 14,620
- 805
- 113
zabu of nΩd
Free Insultation
- Feb 9, 2007
- 14,620
- 805
- 113
Saparmurat_Niyazov
Member
Good day, thank you for tuning into UHF 73 for the 3 AM newscast. I'm your anchor this morning, Shamus McForeskin. Breaking news this hour, a geriatric prostitution ring has broken up by the local chapter of Scottish Rite Freemasons. It was discovered that there were several elderly women performing fellatio in exchange for telephone calls from their grandchildren. The leader of the ring, an Uzbek transvestite named Matsui Yakomoto-Koblomonov, claimed that they were providing a valuable public service and reducing the risk of teen pregnancy. Next, in sports, the competitive eating world was rocked today when Defending Champion Ralph "Bull" Emia was defeated by an upstart named Magnus vander Sloople, who consumed 6 whole, live hammerhead sharks in a mere 17 seconds. Now, for our weather forecast, brought to you by Jasper's Catheter and Bowling Supply...
Einherjar86
Active Member
The beats come at regular intervals, occuring normally throughout the metric spectrum, spaced apart at rhythmically equidistant points, similar to a linear plane on which are placed fence posts in succession according to a predetermined scale. The strums of the guitar meet on the beets, like hammers pounding in the fence posts. When the guitar strums on the beat, the plane continues in its linear fashion; but when the instrument (and the musician) stray from the rigid parameters of the meter, and begin striking at inter-rhythmic moments, the plane begins to fold in upon itself, moving no longer in a straight, linear path, but rather in an arc, bending in order to compensate for the radically placed blows. Triplets severely disrupt the pattern of the linear plane, since no whole can be perfectly divided into three segments (i.e. 33.33333333etc); therefore, when the music attempts to strike upon the segmented triplets between beats, the listener experiences a kind of tumultuous sensation whereupon he feels that he is being torn forward while at the same time being thrust back, similar to the sensations experienced upon a roller coaster (similar, but of course not identical, since it is impossible that an object might move in two directions at once, although the orbit of the Earth around the Sun and the planet's rotation upon its axis seem to suggest that all human beings are moving in two directions at the same time). This lapse in rhythm causes its plane to fold in upon itself, but this fold does not occur at a specific axis upon the plane; rather, the surface curves in on itself, in a parabolic fashion, expanding, exponentially, deeper and deeper into infinity, and its divisions can not be measured.
Rhythmic division into irregular patterns can never be perfect. It results in chaos.
Rhythmic division into irregular patterns can never be perfect. It results in chaos.
damnromulans
Klingons do not faint
The people who watch and take care of the sheep are called shepherds. I had a shepherds pie once at a British pub, it was just okay. British people try to hold onto the Empire but they honestly just have weak chins. I saw on Google images last night that you can have an artificial jawline installed. I wonder if female androids will ever become mainstream popular fetish objects. Kylie Minogue made the best Doctor's assistant. I am an Assistant language teacher. secretary is now Administrative Assistant. The admin of the other forum I'm on is really tall and Australian. I fucking hate Australian accents, they're so unattractive. Speaking of unattractive I want Grant to troll the "MEET YOUR MDFers" thread in the worst possible way GO GO GO RUN RUDOLPH RUN. I had the runs this morning but I'm not eating a lot so there was a lot of water.
V.V.V.V.V.
Houses Ov Mercury
damnromulans
Klingons do not faint
