The Librarian's Revenge ©

The Librarian's Revenge ©

An Odyssey Into The Wonderful World Of Words

This community is dedicated to C.W. Hewett's epic masterpiece

Fix you

Tara ShannonPosted by Tara Shannon 02 Nov, 2009 02:25PM
Mum,
I hate you and I love you
Sometimes I think you care
But then something will happen
To turn me to despair
You turn against your daughter
The one who tries to help
And when you see you've made me cry
You curse my name to hell
I know you're schizophrenic
And can't stop the things you say
But it just keeps hurting, more and more
I want to run away
I feel I’m in a mouse-trap
I can't leave you alone
Why is it always better when
I call you on the phone?
Why do you change so quickly?
Why do you target me?
Is it because you love me
That you will not let me be?
Is it because you hate me
That you play these twisted games
Or is that you maybe have a
Burning need to blame?
You mess my mind and feelings
You've bruised me like a plum
Remember when you set yourself on fire
Soaked in rum?
Remember all the times I saw the needle in the hay
You'd wake a little drowsy
Like it was just another day
And for times I’d beg you
To take the pills you need
And for the times you wouldn't
And for the times you'd bleed
You cut your skin so deeply
And pray the colours run
But all I’d ever wanted
Was just to fix you, Mum.

Hewett Novel Writing Month has started!

INFORMATIONPosted by Leif Ahnland 01 Nov, 2009 07:30PM
Ok guys and ladies. We're on, the ride has started and it's all downhill from here. I know it looks like uphill but it isn't. Get going and you will be amazed.

15.000 or 50.000 doesn't matter, whatever your target is the important thing is that you hit it.

Any questions, feel free to e-mail: cwhewett@pseudocity.org or joe@pseudocity.org


The Librarian

TLR - FOR LEIF

C.W. Hewett's TLRPosted by Tom W. V. 27 Oct, 2009 10:26PM

Tobias looked out onto the grassy plains thoughtfully. The armies of King Terranus has assembled on the horizon and had made camp, the shouts and laughter of the men could be heard from all the way to Tobias. He turned and extended his arm toward the target dummy infront of him and close his eyes, the dummy blew apart sending fragments of wood and hay in every direction, Tobias swept the beads of sweat from his brow and walked back to his tent.
Next day Tobias could be found standing in formation with the Resistance facing the oncoming storm of the Kings men, most of the men around him stood huddled and whispers shot here and there, Tobias however stood back straight and eyes focused on the movement before him.
"How do you stand like that sire?" asked one the men next to him
"What do you see before us?" asked Tobias facing the man, gesturing out to the plains
"Why the Kings army of course sire, certain death" replied the man shaking slightly
"That is exactly why I do not stand huddled, I do not see death. I see new life, for if we defeat the army then the Kingdom can proper and be healthy again, and that thought of a land without tyranny and death around us. Means I could face any foe and still now cower" Tobias looked back and said no more. The men went away and started whispering again. A roar echoed from the depths of the Kings men and Tobias saw a huge beast arise within it and start to walk toward the Resistance, many of the men surrounding Tobias, blanched and starting panicing. Tobias sighed and walked forward, standing in front of the Resistance facing the giant. He closed his eyes and extended his hand concentrating fiercly, the giants hand began to tremble and suddenly bones snapped and the huge club fell to the ground making a crater big enough to bury the whole Kings army. Tobias looked up and saw the huge figures of the dragons flying high above him. He drew his sword and charged at the Kings men bellowing a challenge, man behind him ran too, shouting and banging weapons against their sheilds.
The two armies met in a roar of sound and Tobias jumped, 5, 10. 20, 40 feet on to the giants shoulder and stabbed his sword into its neck.

TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW

... The giant bellowed in rage and flailed its arms madly knocking both Kings men and the Resistance flying. Tobias held on as the giant fell back, flattening several unlucky men and jumped off. For the next few hours Tobias only knew the battle, he twisted and swirled, his sword dealing fatal blows everytime it struck. Magic also crackled from his finger tips cooking men inside their armour, their screams echoed from the remains as they flailed around. Tobias stopped and looked around at the carnage he'd left in his wake, panting he looked around and saw the remains of the Kings men flee'ing back toward their camp. An ivory horn sounded and the Resistance started slowly moving back too, thousands of lives had been lost, both armies were severly crippled and it would be several week's before anyone was able to fight again. Tobias ran back, bounding across the plains to the command tent at the back of the army, he sheilded his sword and stepped through.
"My lady" he bowed and inclined his head to Katrina Amagon, the leader of the Resistance.
"You dont not need to bow to me, Tobias, you know that. You mustve killed hundreds today, such a fete has not been achieved for a very long time" replied Katrina smiling slightly
"Thank you, I only came to ask why we did not persue the Kings men?" asked Tobias
Katrina laughed, "You may be fit, but most of the Resistance either died or are wounded, very few are able to even pick up a sword at this moment, I have our healers working round the clock to help them, but even they are finding it a tough job to keep everyone alive. Tobias nodded and left his tent, he then walked slowly to his own tent on the far side of camp and fell onto his bed thinking.

THE END.

If you need anymore let me know.

Destruction

Zoe GibsonPosted by Zoe Gibson 23 Oct, 2009 10:30PM
Destruction

It comes forth.
Crashing down
Rushing foward,
Crushing all in it's path.

Raging winds.
Destructive nature
non-exsisting sympathy.
Never ending torture.

Bringing:
Hazarzdous disasters
Deathes galore,
Broken families.

Destroying:
Homes
Cities,
lives.

Nothing can reason with it.
It has no soul.
It can't be perdicted.
It can't be stop.

for the libraians reveng!!!!!!!

Ocean MayPosted by Ocean May 23 Oct, 2009 08:45AM

She made it. The skinny figure of Jessica sat crossed legged in a small cabin room sheared with 3 others. She had made it aboard the black eye. Her and her friend had creped on to the black eye and been mistaken for men she was now on the way to Venice were her sweetheart was fighting the war against Spain. If the worst came to the worst Jessica had decided that she would bravely go into battle against the Spanish, she just had to find her fiancé, even if it meant she would find him with only a few seconds left of life or non at all.

Suddenly the ship jerked, Jessica heard the sound of angry voices then the sound of a cannon if it was there’s or hers Jessica didn’t know.

She hugged her knee’s tight, rocking back and forwards, she could her someone walking steadily down the corridor and hoped it was Vanessa her friend. But when the door opened it was not Vanessa coming in but a tall man with a sweaty face and a vary girly figure.

He climbed onto the bunk above Jessica. He started unpacking his things and putting them out on the bed. As he was moving around Jessica spotted a purple necklace.

She gasped the man spun around and Jessica could tell by the fear in his eye’s that something was wrong she couldn’t figure it out all she wanted was to say is she loved it and to ask were he got if from .But Vanessa came in at that moment.

She sighed and looked Jessica strait in the eye.

“ god is it hard work being a man…” she stopped seeing the man.

“ it’s ok I’m in the same situation as you, I’m looking for my son he’s in the army I…..”

Vanessa and Jessica were standing opened mouthed at her to find someone like them they thought would be vary hard but to be shearing a cabin she would have thought that impossible.

“We now only have to hope that are last member is a nice guy, I don’t think our lucks going to last that long. The sound of heavy footsteps thudded down the ships narrow corridors and Jessica stopped in her tracks. She prayed the footsteps would continue down the corridor and held her breath, but her fears came true when the footsteps stopped directly outside the door and the sound of someone leaning against the door.

“I locked it.” Jessica whispered.

“Let me in, I tell you, oi do you hear…” A large booming voice called out and all three girls shudder. This was going to be one hard journey.

Three days later after hard, challenging work, the girls where called up to deck. The view they saw was rewarding, hopeful and yet vary sad and pathetic.

Her fiancé was here, in amongst all the terror and horror. He was fighting for his life, for people that wouldn’t appreciate it in the future. She quickly rushed down to her sheared cabin and grabbed her small bag of few belongings, that she had deard to take with her. She wanted to lose as little time as possible.

She scanned the street of hurt soldiers and crying children, as they drew close to the harbour. Everyone was waving and crying as there sea men arrived home. Elizabeth fought back tears, her fiancé should be out there waving her ini and then she saw a most petrifying amazing thing ever.

Her fiancé was waving at her from a wheelchair pushed by a older looking nurse, his grin was nearly the size of Jessica’s, though not quiet, as the two lovers where rejoined.

Glass person

Zoe GibsonPosted by Zoe Gibson 22 Oct, 2009 03:38PM
Glass person

How do you see?

What you see.

Am I glass?

You stare right thorough.

I’m hidden but on show.

Only your eyes are open

Like doors…

Delving deep to my soul.

My exterior fools you not.

My shell falls away.

Slowly I’m revealed

To be no more than myself.

Two Worlds

Zoe GibsonPosted by Zoe Gibson 21 Oct, 2009 10:09PM

Hi, wow 2 post in 2 days i wonder if i can keep this up. critacism welcome. the bits where bracket and used are because i'm not sure sure if it should be there or not please comment and give me your opinion on each one. Thanks

Two Worlds

It lies in wait.
I stare in horror,
Frozen in place.
It creeps near(er).

It's now or never.
I plundge in,
Leaving light behind,
Stepping(,) into another world.

It surrounds me,
Envelops me,
Crushes me,
My air escapes

I lose control,
Spiralling downwards,
Darkness dissapating...
My world ends.

Lockdown 2

Martin OakshaftPosted by Martin Oakshaft 21 Oct, 2009 09:09PM

Continuing the story of the caretaker... for many reasons, some personal, this was a very hard story to write.

oh, and the fact that it starts with one of my earlier poems, and also incorporates bits of the original Lockdown is intentional. i was hoping to superimpose the caretakers attitude between "then" with "now". somewhere along the way though, the story wandered and got personal.

The worms of paranoia grow,

Crawling, burrowing through the mind.

Eating away everything good,

Everything rational.

Still crawling, still burrowing.

Paranoia.

Destroying the whole,

Leaving a dark space,

A hollow vacuum.

The darkness grows,

Filling the void with bad things.

Mistrust and loathing,

Fear and loneliness,

Nowhere to turn, a different person awakes.

Paranoia.

The awareness intensifies,

Sounds, colours, smells are sharper.

More animal than human.

Paranoia.

People everywhere, all strangers.

Who are they?

What do they want from me?

Why do they care for me?

Suspicion.

More feelings from the void,

Vision through a twisted clarity.

Unhindered, irrational.

Fight, maim, run.

Help me!

Sanity returns slowly.

Purity, goodness, spirit.

Slowly, mind and body whole.

Safe, rational, alive.

Light.

With a rattle of keys and a decisive clunk, the Caretaker locked another door. He was halfway through the nightly lockdown of the site with only an hour to go. The site was huge and he faced yet another corridor. It stretched before him, an endless supply it seemed.

He paused, listening for any untoward sound. Things were different now, the rules had changed. Turning from the door and facing the corridor, all the caretaker could see was a monochrome darkness. He automatically reached out for the light switch before stopping and cursing to himself. There was no more electricity, no more lights. They were dead.

Dead… his mind echoed. Everything gone. no more amenities, no more gas heating, nothing… all dead…Ever since the school was attacked, the food stolen and his rib broken, the caretakers sanity was slowly being eroded away.

When he was a child he once looked into the bathroom mirror, stared at his face and repeated his name over and over like a mantra. It was initially out of curiosity, but after a while the face changed into a stranger and the repetition of his name rendered it useless, with no meaning. The incident scared him and he spent the rest of that day feeling very uncomfortable. And now it was happening again, more insidious this time… his self was disappearing. More and more the primal side of his humanity kept trying to force its way through the social and mental barriers that made up his psyche. The beast that he had unchained in that fight was winning; the red mist was never too far away….

Not even aware that his mind was crumbling, he could never shake the feeling that the school was fully secure. As soon as he was mobile enough, he had enlisted all the students to clear the ground floor classrooms of benches. Under his direction, the benches were broken down and used to board up the windows. The classroom doors were then locked and nailed to the doorframes. The remaining bench tops were used to reinforce both interior and exterior doors and, after rummaging in the stores in his workshop, the caretaker had produced a large box full of hasp and padlocks. Each door had one installed on it, and every night, the residents abandoned the wing and retreated to the central part of the building. The abandoning of the wings seemed the most sensible idea. But still... the caretaker included them in his lockdown routine. That’s all I am now he thought …routine. The same pointless route over and over….

The caretaker looked down the corridor and faced the darkness ahead darkness ahead the whispered thought made him shiver. Only the barest glimmer of moonlight insinuated itself through the slight gaps in the boarded windows.

Gathering himself, the caretaker stalked slowly through the darkness. His keys were muffled in his pocket and his squeaky workboots had been replaced by black soft-soled running shoes, liberated from the sports hall. He was almost invisible in the darkness as he wore jet black cargo trousers black T-shirt and a black jumper. He had a torch but was loath to use it. He had explained to the others that it was because he wanted to save the batteries for emergencies. Secretly though, he wanted to remain unseen while he was patrolling. Invisible in the darkness.

The sounds of the old school settling was different too. Gone were the strange noises of lights creaking and ticking as they cooled, gone were the grumbling and moaning of the pipes…. all gone, everything….gone… instead there was an almost deathly silence, punctuated by the sound of the wind whistling around the school and the smallest creak as the heat of the day left the ancient stones, causing them to expand.

Before, the lockdown was always simple. All the Caretaker had to do was to go from one end of the site to the other and lock all the doors as he passed them. Intruders used to only be a faint possibility but now they were a real threat. The caretaker know that the building was not a hundred percent secure, and that someone could sneak in and hide… hiding in the darkness, ready to jump out … there were alcoves along the corridor. Alcoves filled with deep black shadows… Is there anyone waiting in there? … The caretaker was convinced that someone was in the school, someone who shouldn’t be there someone…. Waiting for me…..

Unseen eyes seemed to bore into the back of his head, making his skin prickle and sending sharp slivers of fear shooting down his spine. Warily, the caretaker continued down the corridor. He finally gave in to his fear and flashed his torch into each of the alcoves as he passed. Every time the beam lanced into the alcove, the caretaker kept expecting it to light up the pallid face of an intruder. In the shadows of his imagination he saw flat, black eyes boring into his own, a rictus of a grin as a hand raised a knife…

“Gaaa!!” the caretaker exclaimed, shuddering. Sometimes His imagination was sometimes too vivid for his liking, but superimposed over the paranoia that he felt was the real fact that there could be an intruder. No longer were these potential enemies simply students breaking in to cause mischief. It was far more serious than that. This night, like every other night, the caretaker resolutely thought “not on my watch. Some things, it seemed, did not change.

As he stalked down the corridor he could see his next destination. Another set of double doors lay ahead of him. This time no light from the corridor beyond glowed through the window panel of the door. The Caretaker felt a strange trepidation as he approached. He was so used to the two squares of light, surrounded by near darkness and seemingly staring at him as he approached. Before, he thought it odd that the prospect of leaving the darkness and stepping into the light should make him feel nervous. Now he realised that the lack of light was much, much worse. Terror was only a few heartbeats away and the caretaker had to pause and take deep breaths to steady his jangling nerves before striding through the doors. As he selected the key from the bunch clipped to his belt, the doors swung shut and slammed with a loud boom that echoed down the corridor. One more section of the old building was secured. Only the theatre and Library to go.

The Caretakers route was such that he entered the theatre from the rear of the stage. Side-stepping the various props and costume racks, he padded quietly onto the stage. Moonlight flooded from the high windows, bathing the stage in a silvery glow. Feeling exposed, the caretaker quietly moved to the wings. This was still a powerful place to him and yet… instead of a feeling of awe and imagination, a sense of malice and evil intent seemed to permeate the air.

His senses were strung taught and the caretaker couldn’t help but suppress another shiver. Leaning up against the wall in the wings the caretaker cupped his face with shaky hands what is happening to me! An inner voice cried. The thought seemed to open a floodgate of revelation. The caretaker realised that he had been blinkered, tied to the past. The rules that governed a peaceful society had changed. Society was just a thin veneer, and the caretaker realised that under that veneer, the populace was just as savage, just as bloody as the rest of nature. These thoughts stripped the caretaker of the fantasy of the old ways, and showed him the reality of where he was. The reality of world he now lived in came crashing into his psyche.

With new awareness, the caretaker imagined what the future would be. A new future filled with the violence of survival. Do I want this life? He asked himself and realised that the answer was no. he tried to think of alternatives... there is one choice, one way out … a small but insidious thought nagged at him. There was no denying it and the caretaker was forced to consider its consequences... the thought of suicide was as compelling as it was repellent. No. he thought not that, never that… stifling a sob the caretaker slowly stood up. Head up, and back straight he stalked out of the theatre, continuing his lockdown.

As he proceeded down the corridors towards the library, his tortured mind mulled over this new future that he had to face. Slowly acceptance came, but at a price. A big part of him had died inside, overwhelmed with grief and self pity. Survive for now, he thought the other option will always be there.

As he finally entered the library, the caretaker was surprised to see that the place still seemed timeless. With chaos boiling within him, and confusion rampant in the world, the library was still a place of sanctuary. And yet the feeling of being watched, of being stalked was still with him. This was not just paranoia. The caretakers senses, heightened by his extreme emotions knew that there was another presence here.

Slowing his walk and with his body tense, yet ready, the caretaker paced down the aisles, eyes wide and ears straining. Close, he thought someone is very close. Earlier, in the corridor, the caretaker was overcome with fear. This time it was a cold anger that suffused him. This time he was ready. Ready to attack. Ready to survive.

Seconds after he felt a tingling of premonition running down his back, he heard a slight noise behind him. Something tugged on his sleeve. Screaming, the caretaker whirled around to face his assailant, fist cocked and ready to fly... at the last second he checked himself as he stared into the shocked eyes of the Librarian.

“um...” the librarian said, nervously. He had seen the caretaker and thought to enquire about his day. There was an affinity, an unspoken understanding between the librarian and the caretaker. They were both outsiders to some extent and the librarian had approached the caretaker simply to make contact.

The reaction of the caretaker, and seeing his wild expression scared the librarian. He had seen that look months before. The day the caretaker went berserk and tried to fight off those thieves. Nobody really noticed how perceptive the librarian actually was. Similar to the caretaker, he was always on the fringes of society. Observing. He noticed the caretakers shock as he recovered himself, noticed the way his face went from a snarl to an apologetic smile. Most of all he noticed the caretakers eyes. Looking closely, the librarian could see the now familiar empty, faraway look, deep in those orbs.

The librarian had realised that the caretaker was becoming more withdrawn over the past month. He assumed that it was simply the pressures of keeping the school secure and organising the students. Now he saw that there was a deeper pain, one that the caretaker was trying to deal with. And failing.

“Sorry”, mumbled the caretaker, trying to look relaxed and non threatening “you startled me”.

“um… that’s ok” replied the librarian, cautiously “it’s my fault for not letting you know I was here”.

The caretaker gave the librarian a long, flat look and seemed on the verge of saying something. I can’t tell him thought the caretaker I will have to deal with this on my own. “Well…” he said, trying to sound cheerful “no harm done” turning slowly the caretaker said “I must be off now. Early start tomorrow”

“Um... ok... bye” the librarian said to the caretakers retreating back. The librarians brows creased in consternation I fear we may have lost him he thought as the caretaker left the library, quietly closing the door behind him.

Coming Soon

INFORMATIONPosted by Daniel R 21 Oct, 2009 03:42PM

The BBC script writing project is coming soon. December 2009. Beware.
This project will be able to send your scripts to the BBC as an experiment to see wether old children and early teens will be able to break in to the world of main stream TV. And see wether grumpy old men are the only one's to be able to write a good script. If you want to find out more or sign up for it see Daniel Reid. 10G.

He laid there in the sun baked sand,

Daniel R.Posted by Daniel R 21 Oct, 2009 03:33PM

I won this years poetry Competition with this very peom. I hope you get chills when you read this. As many before have, reading this poem.

He laid there in the sun baked sand,

A machine gun in his blood covered hand,

The solider that died in battle

Drove in to war like articulate cattle,

Now classed as an afghan hero,

His commanding officer a down right zero,

Sending a man into a zone of war.

His men dying is what he saw.

The worst man in history,

He laid there in the sun baked sand,

A machine gun in his blood covered hand,

The officer in safety,

His family is waiting for him to come.

His family is waiting for him at home.

The sad thing is he is dead.

Without his last rights said.

He laid there in the sun baked sand,

A machine gun in his blood covered hand,

Ignorance Or Confusion..?

Zoe GibsonPosted by Zoe Gibson 20 Oct, 2009 10:04PM
Hey guys it's been a while since i last posted. here is another poem. critisim welcome. would like to know if you think it flows.

Ignorance Or Confusion..?



Slowly.
Dropping aside,
Destroying me inside,
I fall apart.
Floating like dust.
All alone


Looking back,
I find myself asking,
When...
Did it changed?
Then asking,
Why i even care?


What if...
I'd just let it go,
My fear, my mask.
Holding me ;
Grasping me.
Weighing on my heart!


A test of time.
Ignorance or confusion,
Which will surrender?

would you jump?

Hannah B.Posted by Hannah B. 19 Oct, 2009 04:26PM
It's me,James, but it is for the last time. I am going to tell you about the time that some one asked me, would you jump?

"Could you do it?Could you jump?"He aske, peering over the edge. I sat down, my legs hanging over the sheer drop of at least 200 metres, I was not scarred, I would have been 2 years ago but not any more I have nothing left to live for. As I pushed my self over the edge he reached out a hand to grab me realising that I was answering his question, but I ignored his outstreached arm, and let my self fall. I knew I had made the right decision, life was hard, and so were the the concrete paving slabbs that zoomed up toward me. I welcomed death with open arms. and thats and thats what happened when some one asked me,"Would you jump?"

revenge

Hannah B.Posted by Hannah B. 19 Oct, 2009 04:08PM
My name is James, and I am now maried to that girl who I realised I was in love with all those years ago, our marrige did not last though, not because we did not love each other but because she was snatched away from me. Now I am going to tell you about the time went to seek revenge.

He cowered in the corner, the tip of my sword rested against his neck, I was going to kill him for what he had done, what he had done to her. His eyes welled up and began to cry, knowing his fate he dropped his weapon. He was at my mercy, but I could not bring myself to do it, so I also dropped my weapon, and turned my back on him. Her death hurt me, hurt me more than you could ever imagine. My eyes burnt and I was filled with hatred every time I thought of him. Whenever I thought of her I wept, but I also remembered all the happy times, Us together. But I, I am no killer.

in love

Hannah B.Posted by Hannah B. 19 Oct, 2009 03:51PM
My name is James and and I'm going to tell you about the time I realised that I was in love

She looked up, looked up at me. She spoke, but I could not hear, my mind on other things, well, just one thing, her. As I stared in to her eyes i noticed they were shiny with tears, but I could not speak, could not comfort her, as I was lost, lost in the beutifull green orbs that were her eyes. They seemed to go on forever. I would have been happy to stay lost, her hands in mine, just us, together. Thats when I realised, I was in love.

poems by william blake

Mary D.Posted by Leo O. 16 Oct, 2009 01:40PM
The Tiger By William Blake1757-1827

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?smiley

Dance little spirit

Tara ShannonPosted by Tara Shannon 16 Oct, 2009 01:38PM

Dance, little spirit

On a line of a silken web

Like strings on a glass guitar

And pluck notes of sleep

Dust in the wind

Is only faces of the dead

Longing to live again

Whispering rhymes from somewhere

Deep in a frozen ocean

Dance, little spirit

To the beat of a blinking eye

That will not cry the truth

But trickles out a lie

Icy hands lay on ugly rainbows

Where colours are screaming

And green is the loudest of all

i'm a dentist

Anne D.Posted by Anne D. 15 Oct, 2009 09:06PM

i'm a dentist

but i'm scared of pain

i'm so scared of hurting people,

that the sacked me yesterday

Self Aware

Geoffrey BuntingPosted by Geoffrey Bunting 12 Oct, 2009 12:12AM

Yep, I'm back on the musical writing front again. This is the second piece for my new steampunk musical thing...

Self Aware

A kitchen- Woman sits at a table, looks fed up.

Pounding percussion and piano; muted guitar

I am an android

A robotic humanoid

I compute, but I feel

I’m science fiction but I’m real

And I can’t find any motives

-

My eyes are watering

I’m updated, quarterly

I have skin, but I’m made of cogs

I think of love yet work on logs

And I can’t get anywhere

-

But my husband says I’m fine

I’m just the progress of the time

That I’m beyond human wear and tear

He has me commit the foulest deeds

Just to satisfy his needs

He better pray I don’t become self aware

-

I am an android

A robotic humanoid

I’m a woman of electronics

With a strange urge to fight the communists

I can’t hide forever

-

If my husband ever gets caught

Without a moment’s thought

They’ll put him away without care

For stealing robotics is treason

No matter what the reason

Lest they become self aware

-

And oh, how the wind

Stirs my iron wrought heart

And oh how they sun

Sends shivers through every joint and every part

But oh how the air

Oh how the air,

Oh how the air

Makes me feel self aware.

-

I am an android

A robotic humanoid

My hair if soft, long and gold

Yet I must do what I’m told

Or else suffer his temperament

I live in a world of hate, lies and fascists

For some reason I must fight the communists

But at least now, I’m self aware

Living barier

Mohammad S.Posted by Mohammad S. 09 Oct, 2009 09:36PM

Living barier

When I dive into the sea

Swiming through the living barrier

I see silver fishes

Flying to school

And stary sneaky anomonies

Waiting for their prey

Skeleton like seaweed

Dancing in the waves

As I dive deeper

I see scary sneaky predators

And some beautiful butterfly fishes

I see the sea cucumber

Camouflaged waiting for it's prey

The living barrier with her sons

One of the most beautiful places on earth



Edited: By Connor Bell - Double posted and in wrong category. Corrected.

hero poem

Mary D.Posted by Mary D. 09 Oct, 2009 12:00PM

the rows of graves stand side by side all facing the rising sun,

the noble men that died for us all counted one by one,

the sacrifice so great, the selflessness so brave,

they died in the war to end all wars,

or so it would seem the war to start all wars,

those wasted lives on petty crimes,

what a waste of a patriotic hero,

age shall not weary them,

nor the years condem,

rest in peace brave country men,

lets hope it never happens again.

please commment!

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