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Offbeat and experimental verses & prose thread (writing hobbies)

#11
confused2 Offline
^^^ 10. Slightly worrying but still 10.
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#12
Secular Sanity Offline
(Nov 29, 2021 02:45 AM)confused2 Wrote: ^^^ 10. Slightly worrying but still 10.

Yeah, good stuff, but I wouldn’t want to piss her off.  Wink

The Turpin family popped into my head. It was horrific, and then to top it off, you have the neglect from social services.
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#13
C C Offline
(Nov 29, 2021 05:24 PM)Secular Sanity Wrote: [...] The Turpin family popped into my head. It was horrific, and then to top it off, you have the neglect from social services.

"Despite their socially conservative beliefs, the couple engaged in swinging."

Doxic dissonance being a popularly perceived factor in generating crackerjack nutjobs -- granted that the Pentecostalism wasn't a facade from the beginning. Those runaway reproduction rites of Quiverfull signals that it wasn't -- i.e., what couple wants to output that many children unless there's a dogma cracking the whip on them, or one spouse has a Republic of Gilead demeanor.

Sad with regard to that aftermath. Doesn't seem to matter whether the "rescue system" stems from market-based, institutional, or government driven forces. There's still factory indifference and limits for the concern and safeguarding, especially if the "wards" have care and resource intensive (personal) behavioral problems.
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#14
C C Offline
My first version of this was posted elsewhere as a lyric. (Yep, even stooping to cannibalizing salvaging stuff from that Halloween Metal period.) I've modified it to be more poem-ish for a possible animation of the future, and changed some wording.
- - - - - -


Impending

Dazed arrivals cluster by your sign.
Does that quell their blank unknown?
You ferry them across flowing brine,
But still you're always alone.

The way a deaf girl hears her breath,
How a blind man sees a trend,
Like a noseless vulture smelling death,
Maybe I can sense the End.

You seem to be the odd silhouette
That hauntingly has a face.
Smoking soundless like a cigarette,
Some visage ash will replace.

The way a shadow hides in the gloom,
How an old ghost tries to blend,
Like a sunset delaying its doom,
Maybe I should mock the End.

Waiting for a morgue bound ambulance;
Scanning these passing drivers
That rove the same road your Damned Crew hunts
For journey worn survivors.

The way a parched hunger is appeased,
How love is tortured and penned,
Like a torqued gurgling from the diseased,
Maybe I outlast the End.

What grim visitor sits next to you,
That startles these wolves away?
Now the mutton trembles in the pew
As shepherds begin to prey.

The way church greeters hug a guest,
How a shirt receives a mend,
Like a target doing its best,
Maybe I welcome the End.


- - - - -

NOTE: "prey" was the intended word, not a typo or erroneous homonym.
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#15
Magical Realist Offline
I posted this 5 years ago on FB.


In breaking news, hell froze over today based on temperature readings taken by USGS of the earth's core. As a result, millions of divorced husbands paid off their alimony debts today, gun owners willingly surrendered their arms over to law enforcement, tax evaders began filing and paying their long overdue income taxes, and land squatters politely complied to government agency requests to move elsewhere. Scientists predict that hell will return to its normal 578 degree F temp by midnight tonight. Sinners dress accordingly..

In related news, a large flock of pigs was recently spotted by NORAD migrating from Canada over the American midwest. Forecast for the region: partly cloudy and cool, with a 50% chance of bacon. Details as they emerge...
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#16
C C Offline
(Jan 10, 2022 10:16 PM)Magical Realist Wrote: I posted this 5 years ago on FB.

In breaking news, hell froze over today based on temperature readings taken by USGS of the earth's core. As a result, millions of divorced husbands paid off their alimony debts today, gun owners willingly surrendered their arms over to law enforcement, tax evaders began filing and paying their long overdue income taxes, and land squatters politely complied to government agency requests to move elsewhere. Scientists predict that hell will return to its normal 578 degree F temp by midnight tonight. Sinners dress accordingly..

In related news, a large flock of pigs was recently spotted by NORAD migrating from Canada over the American midwest. Forecast for the region: partly cloudy and cool, with a 50% chance of bacon. Details as they emerge...

Looking at some occasional items in the news, you almost wonder. When it comes to the world experiencing a radical breakdown in nomological consistency, I can't help but remember Jack Vance's short story "The Men Return".
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#17
confused2 Offline
It started with 'Freedom from Fear' leaflets thrown into the cubicle. They said one vaccination would liberate you for the rest of your life. The woman in the cubicle above me was taken a few days before me, of course she didn't come back.

I was resting after my workout when they came for me. They seemed pleasant enough and I agreed to go with them after they explained anyone without a vaccination would either die or be killed within the next few weeks.

As we arrived at the jabbing station there were people chanting "Freedom! Freedom!", some waving 'Freedom from fear' banners.

There were no guards outside but once inside the door was guarded by heavily armed soldiers.

I was told to take off my clothes and at first I refused until I saw the clothes being torn from a woman ahead of me.
"This is the start of your new life." one of the guards said as he kicked my clothes towards the heap. I was then grabbed and forced through a door into a large hall.

There were hundreds of people cowering against the wall to my left. Guards were dragging people away from the wall to what looked like pods set against the wall to my right. Screams were coming from the pods.

All I could think of was to run. I broke free and ran but there was no exit so all I could do was run round the centre of the hall. Soon others joined me and we were all running round like a shoal of fish. A few guards tried to grab us but we ran into them, knocking them to the ground and trampling them to death.

The remaining guards just watched and waited. As people fell exhausted we pulled them to the centre and carried on running. Towards the end there were just five of us running. Shots echoed round the hall and I saw the head of the runner in front of me explode in a shower of blood and brain. I dived into the pile of exhausted people and lay still. From then on the guards just dragged people to the pods. Very few resisted or screamed - they had already run for their lives and fallen when they could run no further. The vax was inserted into the back of my neck. The cut was crudely sewn up and I was knocked unconscious.

The vax woke me for the first time after I had been taken to the lithium mine. I have lost all track of time. When the vax wakes me I eat and the vax eats. I work when the vax tells me to and sleep when the vax allows me to.
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#18
C C Offline
^ ^ ^ ^ ^
Good deal, C2! Due to my abhorrence of automatically receiving thread alerts, I didn't know you had submitted that. Can simultaneously bump it up to some daylight after almost two weeks. 

On second thought, nix the "simultaneous". Lag of some hours before what I was going to post here -- some potential touch-ups and kinks to work out (wish they were of prose variety).
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#19
C C Offline
Yet another conversion of a lyric to something more poem-ish. This time a far more radical overhaul. Did I leave anything left of the original, that was posted here? Maybe a few lines.

Surely for the best, even if both attempts suck fervently. But it's that animated gif role, again, where standards are like discount gigolos on the street, anyway. (Barring recruitment of a Dickinson classic or an instance of Plath’s Juvenilia [apprentice products].)

- - - - - -

Are You Being Gaslighted?

Like beef slabs, the promise hangs hollow;
Its brokers left no spoor to follow.
No roadway exit as a feature;
Stranded, stalled as the stronghold's creature.

Was it prankish fun that scored a titter,
Making us dicey, bitter?
A playhouse built by risks that collided:
Are you being gaslighted?

At sly edges and angles they lurk,
Squeezing fate like tightening clockwork.
Calm your unease, mavens will arrive
To leech us pale until we're alive.

That coiled, paranoid rattle in your mind,
Was it an uplifting find?
Doubt is what this partnership invited.
Are you being gaslighted?

Draining patience becomes droll waiting;
Down the hall, whispers are collating.
What they bode is wilted witchery;
Sense already slew the mystery.

A memory untwisting through your head
Which they claimed was never said.
So many weeks since truth was last sighted...
Are you being gaslighted?

Seaside, there crept a wiggly design,
Fattened on sweet spite and salty shore.
It curved through garden and prickly vine
To set a springe for the herbivore.

"Still buying pity with your shrill conceits?
Our work harbors no deceits."
Deep, deep in what the sewer has guided,
Are you being gaslighted?
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