siren
siren
Sir Ensign.
Sigh Wren.
S High Run.
Si Ran.
siren
siren
Saturday, 13 June 2009
By Night
By night I hear her course throughout the room.
A single route, tried and tested, rehearsed until sunshine falls from the eyes of the burning giant.
Her 'clips' and 'clops', akin to that of a soft-toed horse, are heard through sleep muted ears.
Her eyes, as wide and dark as pools of immeasurable oil-spill, stare and scan for signs of life..."none but the slow moving, sleep-bound silhouettes", she continues the run through.
Up, up, pause, up and after a time down.
Then across and back again.
A moving carousel lulling to a stop before a disembarking pounce.
As only a semi-sleeper I witness this strange and intriguing ritual daily.
In response I offer greetings and words which may as well be spoken in Gibbon tongue, for they are useless, futile, alien...un-understood.
Our communication is through other, more unusual means.
...I jog, she runs. She hides, I find.
Small squeaks; ambiguous, yet tended to.
A single route, tried and tested, rehearsed until sunshine falls from the eyes of the burning giant.
Her 'clips' and 'clops', akin to that of a soft-toed horse, are heard through sleep muted ears.
Her eyes, as wide and dark as pools of immeasurable oil-spill, stare and scan for signs of life..."none but the slow moving, sleep-bound silhouettes", she continues the run through.
Up, up, pause, up and after a time down.
Then across and back again.
A moving carousel lulling to a stop before a disembarking pounce.
As only a semi-sleeper I witness this strange and intriguing ritual daily.
In response I offer greetings and words which may as well be spoken in Gibbon tongue, for they are useless, futile, alien...un-understood.
Our communication is through other, more unusual means.
...I jog, she runs. She hides, I find.
Small squeaks; ambiguous, yet tended to.
Zilog Z80
Varying stages of green to a complete black.
Kiwi
Frissee
Pond Scum
Lawn
Emerald
Turtle Back
Island In Distance
Eyes Closed
Onyx
Deep Ocean Death
-flagstaff survey exception 1
my only hand is loose
-flagstaff survey exception 2
without outdoor space
-flagstaff survey exception 3
hungry bison
> SYNTAX ERROR
Kiwi
Frissee
Pond Scum
Lawn
Emerald
Turtle Back
Island In Distance
Eyes Closed
Onyx
Deep Ocean Death
-flagstaff survey exception 1
my only hand is loose
-flagstaff survey exception 2
without outdoor space
-flagstaff survey exception 3
hungry bison
> SYNTAX ERROR
Mountain Hold
The face of a mountain is dotted with the sprigs of colour associated with lifestyle changes.
A Goat orders, for his pastures, a gold green grass carpet.
The Eagle puts recently delivered chain-mail to good use, reinforcing her nest.
Holes and burrows are being spring cleaned and painted with emulsions & mattes. The Vole opts for belly-laugh brown.
The Rabbit, at the foot of the ancient stone mound, depicts a scene from Fantasia using 256 colours.
The Bighorn Sheep, bleeping and baa'ing, is spending quality time with the family by filling the flock-sized paddling pool he installed in the midst of winter.
The Cougar, having explained in a recent 1000 word correspondence, enjoys his new Council fitted Aquability walk-in bathing unit.
The self-conscious Snake, sporting a new multi-coloured Muumuu, frets not about the length of time it takes for her meals to digest and the wrong-doing it does to her figure.
Yep, life is good for the mountain dwellers.
So good in fact that they have took no notice whatsoever of the slow-moving paper chain of people making their way to the summit.
16 hands shaking.
8 heads nodding.
8 mouths speaking.
8 patting shoulders.
Thousands of single hair strands all flailing about.
Two Hundred And Twenty Four teeth being lied through (and none with skin on)
What of the mountaineers on their return?
What of the words they spoke?
What of the coverage and the voice of those they represent?
What of the animals and their 'keep yourself quiet' pay-offs?
A Goat orders, for his pastures, a gold green grass carpet.
The Eagle puts recently delivered chain-mail to good use, reinforcing her nest.
Holes and burrows are being spring cleaned and painted with emulsions & mattes. The Vole opts for belly-laugh brown.
The Rabbit, at the foot of the ancient stone mound, depicts a scene from Fantasia using 256 colours.
The Bighorn Sheep, bleeping and baa'ing, is spending quality time with the family by filling the flock-sized paddling pool he installed in the midst of winter.
The Cougar, having explained in a recent 1000 word correspondence, enjoys his new Council fitted Aquability walk-in bathing unit.
The self-conscious Snake, sporting a new multi-coloured Muumuu, frets not about the length of time it takes for her meals to digest and the wrong-doing it does to her figure.
Yep, life is good for the mountain dwellers.
So good in fact that they have took no notice whatsoever of the slow-moving paper chain of people making their way to the summit.
16 hands shaking.
8 heads nodding.
8 mouths speaking.
8 patting shoulders.
Thousands of single hair strands all flailing about.
Two Hundred And Twenty Four teeth being lied through (and none with skin on)
What of the mountaineers on their return?
What of the words they spoke?
What of the coverage and the voice of those they represent?
What of the animals and their 'keep yourself quiet' pay-offs?
Monday, 4 May 2009
With Dimples Of Snow
High upon the dry-land, oxen.
Kinsfolk play as bards under the rooves of amusement arcades.
HALT! Kingsmen guarding their play fort.
We can't go beyond this point, the oxygen is in short supply and we have no nets.
Chasing bubble-flies like grazed kneed children, our laughs erupted from our empty mouths.
Our happiness was immeasurable.
'This will never change'
Our words harmonised in a chorus of agreeance.
On the horizon we saw black clouds.
Rain, we told ourselves, fearing the worst, one more sleep before...
The morning came and our beds were still safe, parental units hugged and comforted not.
It came on the 4th day.
The chugg and smog of our new dictator, en-masse, pushing us from our havens into less green areas.
Using our arms to attack the tractors, they deafened with their din.
We showed how we use vowels as trowels.
Consenants to the power of Continents.
We unearthed land-worms larger than arms as if to free them.
Their place is there and there, not here.
A savage youth tosses his in a discarding manner...
Our hearts sink as it lands underfoot.
So much for our philosophy.
Crippled under the weight of our sins, we allowed the tractors into our homes.
From that day our new bond was rarely strained.
Our peaceful veto was maintained.
Friday, 24 April 2009
moi settings
a b cask
d e fjord
g h itinerary
j k lumberjack
m n over-turned motorway vehicle
p q rest results
s t union of hands
v w xenoclan
y zeusklat
last night i dreamt i was being pursued by the KKK in Lurgan...i remember them chasing me over fields.
i had to hop over hedges and lay flat beneath them.
i got away but, not without some small panic stations being alerted.
the police came and arrested them.
i was safe.
d e fjord
g h itinerary
j k lumberjack
m n over-turned motorway vehicle
p q rest results
s t union of hands
v w xenoclan
y zeusklat
last night i dreamt i was being pursued by the KKK in Lurgan...i remember them chasing me over fields.
i had to hop over hedges and lay flat beneath them.
i got away but, not without some small panic stations being alerted.
the police came and arrested them.
i was safe.
A Lithe For Splinters
BEYOND...to the aggregator! As everyones pulses race rabid, i think in a run amok format.
Details lend themselves to unrelated objects, to stories unexperienced, to images unseen. 'If we keep ourselves to ourselves we can't be accused of integration'...Our summoner is our keeper, his thoughts overpower ours in terms of public opinion. It is he who stands, vis-en-vis, converses; debates and toils with them and their en-masse views. I for one am glad the role was filled, and by such a levelled chap. His mask wearing face is ferocious and intense. His voice cut from the same stone as dragon's roar and air-turret output. It's only now that our people get regarded, get messages of support. He has become a Demi-God of stratospheric proportions...my keeper, my life-line. As corrupt a man as he is, he has spoon-fed us hope whilst we lay in our womb-like positions.
He thinks in luck. Our borders can no longer be crossed.
yours, A FF
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