Fried chicken-
Heaven in your mouth
But
Hell on your arteries.
Potato chips-
Greasy disks
Of
Lovely sodium.
Cheez fries-
They may be radioactive
But
They sure are tasty.
Ramen-
Cheap dinner
Yet
What hits the spot, some days.
Ice Cream-
Inevitable brain freeze,
But
It's totally worth it.
Doritos-
Cool Ranch
Or
Original Nacho?
Cherry pie-
Delectable dessert
Or
A fine piece of ass?
He asked me for a haircut
But I told him "no,"
For after breakfast, and some tea
He'd said that he would go.
Sat he at my table
Unmoving as a stone
He asked me for a haircut
But I'd give him none.
So I left my kitchen
To visit Goody Ted,
But upon my return
He'd removed his head!
Removed his head, I say!
You won't believe your ears;
He cut the back of his own hair
With my poultry shears!
Quatrain contest babyraven 2 by babyraven, literature
Literature
Quatrain contest babyraven 2
Dark night on a dark street, she sits alone,
Ravaged by torments and vendettas unknown,
Sleep comes in fits lying cold on the stone,
She converses with noone -- a whimper, a moan.
Rebel without a -- rebellion by babyraven, literature
Literature
Rebel without a -- rebellion
Rhyming has never really been my thing.
What can I say, I like to break the rules...
Those that hold to the conventions
Are merely sheep; silly, blind fools
Writing like they THINK they should
Instead of from their soul
Of heartbreak, pain and loneliness,
Subjects as trite as soup in a bowl
See how I smash all the norms?
See how I flaunt it before you?
Oh, wait; I'm not...
So I guess I'm in a bit of a stew
What now? Where to go from here?
A failure as a rebel both in poetry and life
Let me put on my apron,
I'd make a sweet little wife
But no, my very self repels that
I cannot aim to please
I can't do what you want me to
There are demons in your head
They may laugh and point
Or scream at you, shaking with rage
Or cooly, hatefully appraise you
Finding you wanting
These demons are not red,
Nor have they horns.
They don't look like your worst enemy,
Or Jack the Ripper.
Rather, they look
Just
Like
You.
*plink... plink... plink..."
...the sound of rain falling on an empty head
...driving out all emotion or thought or stain
...no fighting
...no fleeing
...only rain and rain alone.
CommRenga Alpha to Omega
------------------------
listening to the whale's song
the ecstasy of an aquatic alpha
dripping colour, the fighting mind
sees needles, candy, and full hips
History
-------
Ryu
Stanza #1
-------
babyraven
Stanza #2
-------
CommRenga Alpha to Omega
------------------------
listening to the whale's song
the ecstasy of an aquatic alpha
dripping colour, the fighting mind
sees needles, candy, and full hips
lost in a sea of voices
she drowns in her sorrows
Pain and pleasure, dark fears and dark nights
Silence is a razor and she wields it well
History
-------
Ryu
Stanza #1
-------
babyraven
Stanza #2
-------
kar0
Stanza #3
-------
babyraven
Stanza #3
Beryl pt 1 -- Short Story by babyraven, literature
Literature
Beryl pt 1 -- Short Story
"Rebel's Revenge"
-Gillian Neff, all rights reserved
In the Night Forest, few shards of light manage to puncture the tarpaulin of foliage above our heads, and those few that do are dyed by the dark verdancy of the trees. They force their way down to the ground and sprinkle the earth with weak spots of greenish luminescence. Neither of the suns can be seen from any part of the forest's interior, and it is rumoured that, because of this, some of its less sophisticated inhabitants disbelieve in their existance. The black trees are surpassed in darkness only by their own inky shadows.
It was in and out of these inkspots that Beryl Wildfern da
"Elf-Child's Choice"
-Gillian Neff -- All rights reserved
It had been twelve days since Beryl had left the Night Forest and its inhabitants behind, and, for the first time, she began to feel truly lonely. Her only companions for the last week had been the strange, scarlet lizard-like things that flicked away from their sandy basking places as she approached.
Every step she took caused a pinkish cloud of dust to rise from the blood -coloured sand beneath her feet. The clouds would glint briefly in the glaring sunlight that beat down on the baked sand, and then settle back down into anonymity on the substrate. Beryl's eyes played over the c
"The Subway Bible Lady"
-Gillian Neff - All rights reserved
You'll probably hear her long before you see her. Her low, barely feminine voice like a car over gravel careens wildly through the smelly labyrinth of the subway.
The Subway Bible Lady sings songs of hell and demons and her eyes flame with the burning souls of a thousand sinners. Her hands alternate between clutching at the posterboard hanging about her neck, and fluttering around her head like confused moths.
She whirls about to point at a couple of men walking hand-in-hand. Her wild hair whips around her face in protest as she begins to regale the two for their "shameless sinn
"Visitation"
- Gillian Neff; all rights reserved
I don't want to be here, but I can't control my imagination.
I am sitting in the room that I grew up in... the room I lived in from the time I was a baby until I was sixteen years old. Everything is exactly as I remember it, yet strangely larger than life. I am sitting on the green quilt that's spread over my bed. I can see the cream walls and the green flowery border we put up when i was ten. I can see the old gas lamp with the peacock feather in it. I can see my old wooden bureau with its huge looming mirror. I see the window that peers over the slanted roof and into the backyards of the n
"Untitled"
-Gillian Neff; all rights reserved
i (the irritating screechwhine of incarceration interminable
may be able to undo a life...) the smiling (ahhh but who can say?
the kitty may be declawed yet)
happycharming (face down in litter. why fight? what against?
and it mustbe done
.accept fate -- to fight fate)camper
must decline (put my wig on to hide my hair and declare myself
a new person ,naked in the extreme and fully dead)
the kind invitation of sorts (abductee of yesteryear defenestrated
into the wrong centurydecadeplaneofreality) and go on
living...
"I once"
- Ivy (Gillian Neff); all rights reserved
I once *
knew *
a girl L
who O
liked N
to feed E
the pigeons L
She I
looked N
for a E
loaf of S
bread S
but found *
nothing... *
Current Residence: Philadelphia Favourite genre of music: Varies by day Favourite style of art: Probably photo manipulation. MP3 player of choice: Software = winamp; Hardware = NomadIIMG Shell of choice: Egg (a very unoriginal joke) Wallpaper of choice: It's a Razorart Wall, atm. Skin of choice: Yagathai's. Yum. Favourite cartoon character: Bill the Cat
I'm addicted to LiveJournal.
The free, open-source Journal site is just... fun. :)
Go, see it, add me as your friend! And gimme comments!
Yay for comments...
http://www.livejournal.com/~babyraven
May all those who passed on this week, and who will pass on in the weeks to come as a result of Tuesday's great tragedies rest in peace.
Our thoughts and prayers are with you.