Stuff.

Not much happening, but I'll give all of you a nice little video, here. Internal poetry day was on thursday, so the monthly poetry was on then. I'll put on the four poems I wrote for it:

They wander around the world,

Ditzy like a moth,

And wonder why we treat them like confused children,

They mispronounce words,

Or even worse,

Make their own!

It’s pavement, not side walk.

You annoy us so much,

SO be gone ye scum,

You Tourist from the land of America

Nightmares and tears,

Life is short, time is loss,

And then no body tells me,

Until to late,

That poetry is today and not tomorrow!

Night creatures and shallow fate,

Dark things march upon the worlds of man,

But these dark things are no much,

In the horrors of the universal balance,

Then to the abominations of humanities has inflicted

Just so they can apparently raise us to be the best,

But the it’s all a hoax, a fascist facade,

But the only other fate,

Is to be viewed as a commoner by society,

But less then commoner,

To be a peon, in a land of quadratic equational masters,

Who really needs to know what a graph looks like in numbers,

So how to speak in languages all but dead,

But still society marches us towards the points,

And still doesn’t show us the point,

Of what they teach in secondary school.

As common as muck.

As fleeting as shadow.

Eight legs, Eight eyes,

They scatter at my hand,

And wander undaunted,

To them, giants run away,

But I can not see,

What is wrong,

With the common spider!

(They’re better then lawyers for one!)

Did you enjoy those? Yes, good. No, buzz off. Here is the saturdy writing:

And insomnia is the ghost of a scream. The clock tick-tocked on the wall, and all other things where silent> Not that Philip cared, life had already driven mad. Not insane mad but angry mad. He looked around his room, alone, again. His double bed was all but empty, he was to small to fill even half of it. He groaned at the horror of it, so he sat up and walked to the window and stared into the empty city. SOme lights where on and most where off. A car screeched around the corner. A blimp hooved above it all, the words:

Loyal thought is good thought,

Loyal lies are white lies,

Loyal truth is THE truth.

Another blimp moved past, only revealed by it's shadow passing of the first. Phillip smiled, the whole world obeyed the law, and in every shadow another enemy. It was all a lie of course, to stop the populice from thinking. The last time any populice had really thought they got Napoleon as their emperor. Phillip giggled at the thought.

"What you laugh at, Shorty?"  Hissed a voiced from behind him. Phillip turned his head as a hand shot forth to his troat and pinned him to the window pane. He looked into the eyes of the attacker, the only part of his character's figure revealed beyond the clothes he, or she, wore. Phillip cursed under his breath as he felt a fist slam into and shot him through the window. Maybe he should be afraid of the shadows.

That one was based first on one book idea I've got, then a 1984 rip off and then a completly different book idea, which was is an odd way to write a story that would take about an A4 page. The second piece was based on some images of story cubes.

Johnny Johnny Jonhniton was a artist, thats all Frankie knew about him. Frankie kept bees on the top floor of the five story building. But seeing his room for the first time was completly different to what Frankie thought Johnny would have.  It had lamps made of turtle shells instead of lightbulbs. The floor was replaced his concrete in some places, with footprints scattered all over it. Pyramids of maskes scattered here and there, one made of scuba maskes, one halloween, and another just alien maskes. Frankie gulped, he wondered where Johnnie was.

"What are you doing here?" Said Johnny's voice, Frankie looked around to see where he was.

"Up here, Fattie!" Yelled Johnny, Frankie looked up. Johnny was hanging from the ceiling  from his wristes just above Philip, a frown on his face.

"What are you doing up there?" Asked Phillip.

"What are you doing down there?" Johnny Roared.

"Got your milk, and your door was open."

"It's only 8 am." Yelled Johnny, the midday bell rang on the church across the street. "Oh" Cursed Johnny. Frankie shook his head and walked away leaving the milk behind, stepping over crates with compass markings and miniture tear shaped fountains. He heard Johnny land on the floor behund him.

"Enjoy your day, you fat intruder." Roared Johnny, Frankie just shrugged.

Horrified!

After checking my email account today I forgot to log out so I went to youtube, and then bam! I'm logged into youtube, it's really worring how much google now owns on the net, gmail, blogger, youtube, and now google circles or what ever. It's scary, an internet empire. But aleast they don't own cracked, yet. But anyways, you not here to for my social commentary on the fall of humanity's independence to a corporate run super red state, your here for my writings, so here they are:

All three are based on one of six themes, the first one is based on the theme on romance, the second is historical and third is horror and comedy.
1) "It is 4am in the city. There is no one about. Sé walked around the alley ways humming all the time. For once life was good, no women to ruin it. He saw nothing wrong with women per-say but every time he had a date, bad stuff happened, and he always got broken bones. In the two weeks since he had let her, he had got that great job in the bank, a snazzy car in a bet, that ten tonne elephant was out of his penthouse and."
How do you get an elephant into a penthouse?" Asked Sean, Miles sighed.
"You know kid, I'm just trying to tell you the love story between your papa and you ma'am." Growled the bartender. "In sixty years I've been bar tending, I've never been desturbed in telling a story, not since I blackmailed the sea monkey guy. Anway Sé was walking down an alley onto the open street. Now it's the middle of night so he doesn't check for on coming traffic. Now as tough as you paps is he couldn't take a knock to the head via a ten tonne truck. Now out of the truck stepped out this beautiful red head, and as she stared into your father's eyes."
"So thats my mum I geuss." blurted out Séan, but the bartender shook his head.
"All that woman did was set off the events that caused your father and mother to meet. But it all so silly you could never make it into a Romcom movie." Continued the bar tender. "Possibly a bad romantic novel writen by some git face teenager forced to write it for some reason or other, BUT NOT A MOVIE."

2) It's 4 am in the city. There is no-one about. Except in one small ware house where a man is tied upside down while three other men looked on, two with baseball bats standing by a third who was seated.
"Well this is a nice way to treat guestes!" Commented the hanged man, the seated man shooked his head.
"Guestes don;t spy on their hostes for rival gang bosses. It's bad enough Chircargo already had Bug Moran and Al Capone leaving me little space for poor little me." Replied the seated man.
"So you think I'am a rival gangster." Commented the hanged man, the three men nodded.
"Or FBI." Yelled on of the clud wielding men, the gang boss and the other clubsman stared at him.
"I said Fed, not FBI. For a made man your pretty thick." Said the gangboss. The hanged man swung from side to side.
"Why do you kiddo?" Asked the other clubsman.
"I'm bored of waiting for you to murder me, I want my pinyata like death a little more fun for you." Replied the hanged man.
"OH, we're not going to kill you" Remarked the crime boss, a slight grin on his face. "We're going to make you sing."

3) It is 4am in the city. There is no-one about. Ronnie jumped from building to building, running from, what ever that thing was, this it! It jumped after him and the night hid it's form, only hes flash light showed the way. He jumped another building, he heard it's footsteps. An he ran on, knowing he had to stop somewhere, eventul. So he jumped the last gap, the other end of the building opened on to the street. He jumper half way, and then nearly fell down, he clung to the wall and looked backed, his flash light was dropped. It jumped the casasm, he pulled himself up. He looked down, the flash light showing the chimeric horror of his past. It had pale skin, red eyes, black fur, and worst of all, two scarves.
"Daddy, why don't you want to play with me and mister snuggles?" Asked the child as she raised her toy. Ronnie screamed, the universe's two scariest horrors, a teddy bear and a child  of his line, with matching scarves.
  Ronnie shot out of bed, and checked the clock. His sweet ran down his body, it was 12:00 am. He saw his wife walking into the room carring a steamy mug.
"What's wrong mi'darling?" Asked his wife.
"I had a nightmare, we had a child." His wife gasped. "And she had a teddy bear," His wife gasped again. "And they has matching scarves!" His wife gasped a third time and fell unconscience in shock.  Ronnie sighed as the liquid spread on the floor. Being a vampire ment you had to be careful with carpet.

 The that's all dude,
                         Jamie.