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John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were demons in the base. He didn't see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad "I want to be on the ships daddy."
Dad said "No! You will BE KILL BY DEMONS"
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were demons.
"This is Joson" the radio crackered. "You must fight the demons!"
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
"HE GOING TO KILL US" said the demons
"I will shoot at him" said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
"No! I must kill the demons" he shouted
The radio said "No, John. You are the demons"
And then John was a zombie.
tl;dr replied with this 14 years ago, 2 minutes later, 2 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,718
When awful darkness and silence reign
Over the great Gromboolian plain,
Through the long, long wintry nights;-
When the angry breakers roar
As they beat on the rocky shore;-
When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights
Of the hills of the Chankly Bore:-
Then, through the vast and gloomy dark,
There moves what seems a fiery spark,
A lonely spark with silvery rays
Piercing the coal-black night,-
Hither and thither the vision strays,
A single lurid light.
Slowly it wanders, - pauses, - creeps, -
Anon it sparkles, - flashes and leaps;
And ever as onward it gleaming goes
A light on the Bong-tree stems it throws.
And those who watch at that midnight hour
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as the wild light passes along, -
"The Dong! - the Dong!
"The wandering Dong through the forest goes!
"The Dong! the Dong!
"The Dong with a luminous Nose!"
Long years ago
The Dong was happy and gay,
Till he fell in love with a Jumbly Girl
Who came to those shores one day.
For the Jumblies came in a Sieve, they did, -
Landing at Eve near the Zemmery Fidd
Where the Oblong Oysters grow,
And the rocks are smooth and gray.
And all the woods and the valleys rang
With the chorus they daily and nightly sang, -
"Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a sieve."
Happily, happily passed those days!
While the cheerful Jumblies staid;
They danced in circlets all night long,
To the plaintive pipe of the lively Dong,
In moonlight, shine or shade.
For day and night he was always there
By the side of the Jumbly Girl so fair,
With her sky-blue hands, and her sea-green hair.
Till the morning came of that hateful day
When the Jumblies sailed in their sieve away,
And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing - gazing for evermore,-
Ever keeping his weary eyes on
That pea-green sail on the far horizon, -
Singing the Jumbly Chorus still
As he sate all day on the grassy hill, -
"Far and few, far and few,
Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
And they went to sea in a sieve."
But when the sun was low in the West,
The Dong arose and said, -
"What little sense I once possessed
Has quite gone out of my head!"
And since that day he wanders still
By lake and forest, marsh and hill,
Singing - "O somewhere, in valley or plain
"Might I find my Jumbly Girl again!
"For ever I'll seek by lake and shore
"Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more!"
Playing a pipe with silvery squeaks,
Since then his Jumbly Girl he seeks,
And because by night he could not see,
He gathered the bark of Twangum Tree
On the flowery plain that grows.
And he wove him a wondrous Nose, -
A Nose as strange as a Nose could be!
Of vast proportions and painted red,
And tied with cords to the back of his head.
- In a hollow rounded space it ended
With a luminous lamp within suspended,
All fenced about
With a bandage stout
To prevent the wind from blowing it out; -
And with holes all round to send the light,
In gleaming rays on the dismal night.
And now each night, and all night long,
Over those plains still roams the Dong;
And above the wail of the Chimp and Snipe
You may hear the squeak of his plaintive pipe
While ever he seeks, but seeks in vain
To meet with his Jumbly Girl again;
Lonely and wild - all night he goes, -
The Dong with a luminous Nose!
And all who watch at the midnight hour,
From Hall or Terrace, or lofty Tower,
Cry, as they trace the Meteor bright,
Moving along through the dreary night, -
"This is the hour when forth he goes,
"The Dong with a luminous Nose!
"Yonder - over the plain he goes;
"He goes!
"He goes;
"The Dong with a luminous Nose!"
Bizarr O'Nidas joined in and replied with this 14 years ago, 51 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,724
My warrior woman. My valkyrie. You'll always be mine, always and never. Never. The Fire, baby. It'll burn us both. It'll kill us both. There's no place in this world for our kind of fire. It's raining. I'm the Goddamn Batman.
Handel joined in and replied with this 14 years ago, 3 hours later, 7 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,768
The Arrival of the Bee Box
--------------------------
I ordered this, clean wood box
Square as a chair and almost too heavy to lift.
I would say it was the coffin of a midget
Or a square baby
Were there not such a din in it.
The box is locked, it is dangerous.
I have to live with it overnight
And I can't keep away from it.
There are no windows, so I can't see what is in there.
There is only a little grid, no exit.
I put my eye to the grid.
It is dark, dark,
With the swarmy feeling of African hands
Minute and shrunk for export,
Black on black, angrily clambering.
How can I let them out?
It is the noise that appalls me most of all,
The unintelligible syllables.
It is like a Roman mob,
Small, taken one by one, but my god, together!
I lay my ear to furious Latin.
I am not a Caesar.
I have simply ordered a box of maniacs.
They can be sent back.
They can die, I need feed them nothing, I am the owner.
I wonder how hungry they are.
I wonder if they would forget me
If I just undid the locks and stood back and turned into a tree.
There is the laburnum, its blond colonnades,
And the petticoats of the cherry.
They might ignore me immediately
In my moon suit and funeral veil.
I am no source of honey
So why should they turn on me?
Tomorrow I will be sweet God, I will set them free.
The box is only temporary.
------------
Sylvia Plath
Green !BEERiVqJJw joined in and replied with this 14 years ago, 2 minutes later, 7 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,770
I was hoping it would be about black women.
(Edited 30 seconds later.)
Anonymous H joined in and replied with this 14 years ago, 5 hours later, 12 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,820
Quit posting poetry that's actually good
Anonymous B replied with this 14 years ago, 1 hour later, 13 hours after the original post[^][v]#325,830
@previous (H)
Do you see the fish grilling
on the old window screen?
Baby, you and me
Can make a good ole time out of nothin.
How come whenever I passed by
like the days when I first saw you,
You looked down to the ground?
Is it cause I got a cock of gold?
Yup...sure is.
You stupid waster, I saw your case---and it was shitty. Like the musk of your hair and the old shirts you wear tucked in without a belt. You look like an Orangutan on benzedrine.
So, now let's replace the fish on the dusty grate with some dice.
We'll roll till the sun rises, or whenever your boner goes down.
Lee O'Nidas !nBpim1wazU replied with this 14 years ago, 14 hours later, 1 day after the original post[^][v]#326,130