evilbeej: (Default)
the sun warm even late in the day, though the air is cool
at this juncture, the golden hour is longer by half again
still but for glittering ripples, the pond is limned with brightness
and tiny swarms skim its surface

so many songs and calls in the air, liquid burbles and caws
chiming and cheeping and rambling, scolding and twittering
a thousand thousand indecipherable conversants with everything to say
and everything to say it to

currents and waves and wind in the air overhead and through
the creaking of the umbrella, the rustling of leaves, planes in the sky
trucks on the freeway and planes in the sky and trains through the trees
guitar and raucous laughter from windows

sirens in the distance until a greater wind moves the treetops
drowns out the manmade noise with a rush like ocean waves
but the sound is everywhere while the sun is warm
and the shadows dance long

the book in my hands is half through and grips my heart tightly
pulling it up into my throat until my mind is louder than the world
i feel like i'm dying; lungs constrict and adrenaline courses a shock
through numb fingertips

i am not on the back patio of the house in which i have lived my years
the world isn't lilies of the valley, electric hums, wind in spring leaves
isn't routine and serenity and school and the internet, or my backyard
or existing to skim introspection

it is danger and ghosts and magic and myth, the long memory of location
romance and tragedy, the bravery of the unknowing on sudden understanding
secrets and death, enormous ancient things at the command of the young
breaking hearts and living dreams

words not printed on the grey screen of my reader, but on my soul
and burned into its substance with delicious imagery and wrenching immersion
the story steals in and owns me, runs wild with me in tow, sinks teeth
and i forget i even exist at all

unlike dreams that do the same, i can wake from this
break from this
breathe

and listen to the windchimes
the birdsong and a distant dog's barking
a motorcycle tearing up the peace across the lake

look at the dancing shadows
the backlit greenery
the rippling pond

feel the sun on my skin

and remember where i am.
evilbeej: (Gina: The Mod)
it's echoes in the dark, and frozen hands,
and clinging mist that soaks through to the bone.
it's certainty i've walked these haunted lands
and knowing i've not always been alone.

i can't remember what i'm searching for;
somehow these dripping caves are all that's left.
i think i may have been here once before,
but don't remember feeling so bereft,

for once upon a time my name was called.
the voice that spoke it was a sound too dear,
but name and voice, forgotten in my fall,
are distant and may never reach me here.

so onward walk i through this endless night,
for letting go would never grant me light.
evilbeej: (Gina: The Mod)
Although I speak in haiku when I’m good
And stand atop the tallest of tall things
This evil impulse grafted to my blood
Requires that my stanzas be unhinged

My rhymes may not be perfect in this arc
But I have never claimed that as a skill
Iambic is the way of kingdoms dark
Pentameter is how their minions kill

You think that this is proof my reason’s left
I cannot argue logic while we skate
Instead I’ll posture while you stare, bereft,
And draw their aggro as I flip my cape

Tho’ brainwashed to the cause of Beryl’s boss
O Sailor Moon, how stunning’s your lip gloss!
evilbeej: (Default)
Forever safely cold and locked in stone
Resolved to keep its burdens out of sight
The heart that cannot face the world alone
Remains immune to freedom, life, and light

“It’s not so bad,” the dreamer will insist
As echoes filter down from up above
Of all the things he thought he hadn’t missed
And loss and friendship, care, betrayal, love

Until that love with beauty bright and true
And kindness and acceptance of the weight
Contrives to break the prison that he knew
And help to shoulder loneliness and fate

With disposition lightened now perforce
Triumphant is the heart that’s shown its course
evilbeej: (Marvel: Kitty-- All Smiles)
The best stories I can tell are pieces of me mixed with pieces of the people I love, clothed in places that never were and half-forgotten beliefs in things that no one understands anymore.

The lady asked me about my music: who are your influences?

The answers were Bradbury, Steeleye Span-- the answer no one would believe is 'roleplay with my friends'. Roleplay that involves comic books, fairy tales, anger, beauty, loss, horror, comedy, duty, honor, absurdity, history, passion, dreams, astronomy, rocketships, rock and roll. Stories told *with* others, not *to* others.

It takes a village to raise a child. It takes reactions to everything to make a song. It takes more than one world to write a story.
evilbeej: (Who: Srsly?)
Rezish mofendey suris canidyne
Pretonka lesmer fillis kera fash
Osortney fletson colmic tinto grine
Mo dafny fegger selma teerin glash

Erest bedolan sonder porin fing
Loringa sedintolar forras blide
Mefleeton feezer torin scolering
Ne sorith kindo sarsha fenomide

Relarto stevla reetyl malic porm
Dooblinga sacklen arto salicann
Sittonga creshty barras endogorm
Negain blem terby soush tigolfer gann

Bideech sa glaynid dayden serry fam
Frelinger cass boshoney snabo fram.
evilbeej: (LSH: Lydda + Rokk)
I don't mi-i-ind other chicks dancin' with my Querl
That's fi-i-ine, his eyes are only on this girl
And I know that in time he'll remember my mind
All these copy-cat girls are just not the right El!
They're not the right El!

Sometimes, I feel I gotta put on teal
And signs, they point to demon boyfriends' deals
But I know if I try, I'll be back in my time
All these copy-cat girls are just not the right El!
They're not the right El!

I know if I die, he'll mourn for an issue
I'll keep all my fans and they'll use up their tissue

I don't mi-i-ind other chicks dancin' with my Querl
That's fi-i-ine, his eyes are only on this girl
And I know that in time he'll remember my mind
All these copy-cat girls are just not the right El!
They're not the right El!
evilbeej: (Cos: Nicked)
house of the lonely son

there was a sci cop stuck on Braal
depowered as can be
his mouth was full of bitter ash
and head all filled with grief

this man was once a Legionnaire
he kept his flight ring close
and when the time came to back them up
he served the Legion's ghost

'oh dyrk, my friend, we will come back'
the Legion's leader swore
'we'll come for you and you shall have
the job you had before'

but months turned into years on Braal
and never did they call
it took so long the sci cop knew
they'd never come at all

so when at last they disappeared
right from the face of time
young magno swallowed all his hope
and grimly battled crime

and then he stood with all the worlds
his Legion had come from
and watched as time unravelled itself
and knew his wait was done.

you writers, tell your characters
to hide their shining eyes
for when a new team takes your place
the best will be downsized.
evilbeej: (Who: Theta Sigma)
the vile smoke that billowing curls throughout the choked and blackened sky
in triumph stands a testament to evil deeds and vengeance nigh
all bloody, soaked and fire-charred bedizened garb and castles lie
'round sodden wrecks that bodies were of those who chose to stand and die

the sun broke bright that morning as glad tidings for the merry day
and at the feast the wine was drunk 'til even staunch young men did sway
when war did come all unprepared fair Pendrafen's defenders lay
on downy pillows, soft and sweet, in trust that darkness was at bay

alas for watchmen, brave and cold, who not a drop of warmth did drink
their temperance was all for naught as not a one could shout or blink
when eerie lights belit the woods and hell belched out a brimstone stink
of poison gas that burned and killed before the men could even think

the rumbling things all laden down with weapons devil-made at best
came crashing through the ancient trees to bring an evil wedding guest:
the prince's younger brother who had failed compassion's smallest test
at birth when he his elder stabbed to suckle first at mother's breast

and at the van of his fell force a rolling fortress did appear:
a metal beast with holes for eyes and rivets front to armored rear
whose mouth spat flame, as did its eyes; whose tread ate game that died of fear;
who laughed at all resistance 'til its master's path was rendered clear.

the noises were cacophonous, the walls of stone seemed paper-thin;
evilbeej: (Misc: Just Beachy)
And now the time's arrived at last
for the taking of names and the kicking of ass;
the lady entabled? A wound has acquired
and if we can't sort this then /we'll all get fired/
so cleave with your blades, run off at your mouths;
we'll kill all these fuckwits (pardon me, ladies) before things go south.

--

Strangely shifting shadows, ward his blighted eyesight's gaze
Away from hated dwarves and toward this labyrinthine maze!
Long see him things that can't exist, long scourge his sanity
and curse the things that he holds dear if he should think to flee!

--

everything broken and falling to ruin
daylight and eyesight and rhythm and tune
what's in the mirror that breaks all its glass?
who's on his deathbed and when shall he pass?
groping through darkness on trembling floors
hearing her screaming, the slamming of doors
lights in the sky that foretell all our fate
we whisper this prayer as they're closing the gate
never the sun again, never the sea
only the shadows that chase after me
friends within memory, friends long ago
steady my footsteps as toward death i go.
evilbeej: (Gina: Gina DC)
precision timing and tuning the brass
motion in shadowboxes under glass
the gears are all spinning, the fittings all gleam

my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream

the ticking of clocks and the winding with keys
a metronome's timekeeping, windowless breeze
no buttons undone and showing no seams

my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream

my dancers are turning, my soldiers at arms
my telescope watches my castles and farms
and ships that are sailing or chugging with steam

my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream

the children are perfect, the old folk are kind
no parent is idle and no eye is blind
and friends and good neighbors all cheer the same team

my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream

it's sunshine and roses that bloom in the shade
and nights full of fireflies and stars that won't fade
no war and no irony spoil the theme

my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
my world is like clockwork that comes from a dream
evilbeej: (Misc: Anna)
Courtesy 750words.com )
evilbeej: (Misc: Just Beachy)

Installment #2.

What's your name? Mine's Anna. )

evilbeej: (Misc: Brightman)
This is the story of what happened to Peter Brightman. )
evilbeej: (Misc: HATE HATE HATE.)
Meandering bullshit re: writing and roleplay and whinging. )
evilbeej: (Who: Curiosity!)
So you'll be a Whovian novelist,
Imagining a plot that mangles time
And defines all Earthly existence
You'll be imagining a plot that mangles time.

On rent that you begged from your parents,
To your girlfriend your excuses are transparent
You'd rather sit there and go out of your mind
While you're imagining a plot that mangles time.

Companions chosen, and Doctor's actor set
And the antagonist is well-developed malice
There's drama, and comedy and love
And the awful injoke puns you're not above

You start off the tale with a flourish
With the TARDIS, in space, whirling like a dervish--
A chase, a capture, romance, fighting crime,
And incidentally, a plot that mangles time.

You're pacing now, chewing your pen
All the scheming has to bear fruit in the end
And history must once more take its course
(With or without an eighteenth-century horse.)

So you'll be a Whovian novelist,
Imagining a plot that mangles time
And defines all Earthly existence
You'll be imagining a plot that mangles time.
evilbeej: (Default)
MiB, at the door, no sense of humour in the delivery AT ALL, "I'm from the internet."

That is all.
evilbeej: (Bart: Cheery!)
A short bedtime story with a mild caution to the Unseelie Court. )

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