12-17-2013, 02:46 PM | #1261 |
The Dank Side of the Moon
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Thanks!
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12-22-2013, 12:52 PM | #1262 |
The Dank Side of the Moon
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Entitlement
There was a time when men would give anything to work an extra shift to earn that extra pay. Today they complain about working the extra shift because of the holiday shoppers They hire someone to mow their lawn to clean their carpet to put up their Christmas lights Kenny A. Chaffin – 12/22/2013 |
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12-23-2013, 09:44 AM | #1263 |
Chocolate Grasshopper ...
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nice one and very topical....
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12-27-2013, 09:45 AM | #1264 |
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Thanks Geoff! Here's my latest....still trying to 'process' this experience:
Surreal Christmas Son #2 is an Alaska State Trooper who works the swing shift so I wait ‘til late on Christmas day to give him a call. I’ve saved the presents thinking I’d do a live unwrapping when we talked on that day. I get no answer when I call but leave a message on his cell for him to call when he can. Within the hour I get his call we exchange greetings of the day He thanks me for my presents says he’d opened them early before Christmas Dinner with friends but then got called in early to work an accident on the Sterling Highway. So he couldn’t answer my earlier call and I ask if I should call back Oh no he says the time is good he’s just waiting with a dead guy for the ambulance to arrive. I’m taken aback, this is no time to be opening Christmas presents He assures me it's fine so I open presents and thank my son with a dead guy by the road. Kenny A. Chaffin – 12/26/2013 |
12-27-2013, 09:50 AM | #1265 |
Chocolate Grasshopper ...
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surreal is a very apt title....
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12-27-2013, 10:01 AM | #1266 |
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Certainly felt that way.....
Thanks Geoff! |
12-30-2013, 08:08 AM | #1267 |
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Radio Waves
I listen to Radio New Zealand as I prepare my evening meal. I think of life before Fox News, Rupert Murdoch, cell phones and 24 hour infomercials. A time when life was harder but simpler, more content. I think of radio waves beamed from Christchurch, circling the Earth, spreading news, music and culture not only around the globe but into space as well, beaming towards Alpha Centauri, spreading at the speed of light from our tiny corner of the galaxy. What if somehow we could catch that wave, pass it and return to a simpler time. Kenny A. Chaffin – 12/30/2013 |
01-02-2014, 05:13 PM | #1268 |
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Fate
The End: Whether recording this is worthwhile I will never know, yet I feel I must. We’ve destroyed ourselves, our civilization. We’ve known for centuries yet did nothing. Some would say it was the bugs, but they are only a result, we did this to ourselves. In a final act of desperation the scientists have loaded their arks with DNA and launched them into the inky blackness of space. The Denouement: Born of the dying oceans they gather in swarms. They descend upon the earth, the cities, the people leaving nothing but barren soil in their wake. Miami was first, nothing was left no buildings, no cars, no people. Others followed, Hong Kong, London, Leningrad as the bugs incessantly made their way inland. Nuclear missiles were absorbed by the swarm as easily as were the cities. Nothing could touch them. When their deadly work was done they disappeared back into the sea from which they came. Scientists found no clues in the wastelands other than a complete and utter lack of biological organisms. The destruction continued as if to wipe all traces of the humanity from the Earth. Within weeks little was left – no technology, no science, no capability, no way to save or protect. The Beginning: The Jewel of the Sea slipped silently into NewBoston Harbor. Her biocomp trimmed and adjusted the solar sails. Johann nodded his approval as the ship slid into the assigned berth its belly filled cargo from Eurosea. Life was good. Kenny A. Chaffin – 1/2/2014 Last edited by kennyc; 01-03-2014 at 07:14 AM. |
01-04-2014, 12:04 AM | #1269 |
cacoethes scribendi
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The following is dedicated to Kenny, with grateful thanks for inspiring my first poem in a great many years.
Capital Offence I offended someone on the Internet, it kept me up for half the night. The words had no malign intent, I surely did not mean the slight. It was something short, not at all like me, off the cuff humour I thought all could see. This was a simple and casual conversation, the regular and easy banter among friends. I had no thought nor anticipation, of raising argument when I hit send. So in I popped, with my minor shot, just a brief little thing that sprang out so hot. But talk on the Internet can be hazardous, something that should give us all pause. We have only our words to represent us, and they can be traitors to the cause. It needn't be said, nor even suggested, implied is enough when intent is contested. The words inspired by humorous imagination, the meaning seems clear and worth praising. But when stripped of their context and relation, other sense can be refined from their phrasing. So comes the surprise, with no warning suspicion, there is someone that doubts your intention. Your words have betrayed you and led you astray, so you own up and explain what you meant. But backs comes rejection in very rapid affray, you're not getting out while that nose is still bent. Not all will accept, nor likely excuse, whatever the reasons or explanations you use. The confusion is obvious, you did not mean to hurt, so you offer apologies for the misunderstanding. And you tender again those explanations that assert, you did not mean to rile a friend of long standing. Sorry can be said, it can be insisted, but acceptance is uncertain when words have been twisted. Concession, explanation and atonement are all spent, there seems no correction for these words that have strayed. What started so lightly, so brief, smiling and innocent, has now left you miserable, apprehensive and dismayed, The gallows stand tall, guilty of nonsense, words taken badly can be a capital offence. gmw 4-Jan-2014. |
01-04-2014, 06:11 AM | #1270 |
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Thanks GMW.
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01-05-2014, 10:18 AM | #1271 |
Bah, humbug!
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01-05-2014, 10:28 AM | #1272 |
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Thank you Tom. I'm trying something a bit different with the last few poems. This one is actually a story I've been working on for a while but is not really complete yet, I thought I'd give it a shot as a poem....
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01-05-2014, 10:29 AM | #1273 |
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What Happens in Vegas
In my dream Las Vegas was being shoved against the mountains. At first it was actually fun riding the berm of a sand dune as it slid across the desert something like surfing the Sahara. As we approached the mountains the turbulence of the sand increased a huge lake formed between us and the tall buildings. We struggled to stay on top of the crest and not fall into the flaming abyss that had opened below. I somehow made my way to the left and a path leading away from the bottomless pit. From there I saw the high-rollers in the high-rise fighting to escape. They were beating against the blue translucent plastic windows with anything they could find. Some were already screaming as they fell towards the burning conflagration below them. Other were bending and bulging the plastic out. Vague body shapes pushing outward beating to escape what to them must be hell -- only to fall free into another. Panic and fear can make us fly. Kenny A. Chaffin – 1/3/2014 |
01-06-2014, 07:36 AM | #1274 |
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(not trying to hog the thread, but ..... just glad to be writing again after a dry spell...)
Time Out Those in the future knew exactly what to do as each time-traveler arrived. After all, they’d had the entire duration to make any special arrangements. Whether that meant notifying family or friends for pick up or arranging medical or psychological treatment. In some cases of course the incoming would arrive expired due to age or other factors that could cut a lifetime short. And yes, of course they aged when making that instantaneous one-way trip through time, there was no getting around that, it was simply the laws of physics. In fact that was the point. There was no memory, just a blank spot while while time passed, the body aged and the criminal sentence was served. Kenny A. Chaffin – 1/5/2014 |
01-08-2014, 01:11 PM | #1275 |
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Wow, never knew this thread existed. I usually stick to the dev corner, but I do love poetry.
Here is something I wrote several months back: "If I were an artist I would paint, so dark so dark with nothing but black. To show my world, to craft a picture of understanding. The black and my tears flowing down it, little trickles fading into nothing. To show a world of grays, the kiss of colorless lips. The whites blurring into the blacks of the eyes that watch. I would express it if I could paint. If I were a singer I would sing, so sad so sad with nothing but screams. To show my world, to craft a song of understanding. My face thrown back the tears flowing down it, little trickles fading into nothing. To show a world of pain, the sand and sky and water a deathly tone. The ears turning away and forgetting the words that are spoken. I would express it if I could sing. But I can not sing, nor paint. I can only sow these words on pages that will long be forgotten. For I have no other way in the black of night, to express my fear of darkness. So I write, and my words live on." |
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