- Last Record: 2010-12-08 09:15:43 -0600
- Joined: Aug 13, 2010
They were the first ones,
the first ones in the boat
which pushed off from dry land and
splashed into watery depths,
dark and cold,
unknown and foreign.
But they did not fear,
for they were explorers.
They were the first explorers.
They found the mountains, and there the wind sang to them.
And where the wind sang, they were safe, and they lay in her
arms during the day, nestled in her embrace.
The moon greeted them at night,
with his grin and his ever changing faces.
He would chuckle as they slept,
and listen to their gentle snores.
They sailed for days and nights.
They sailed so far they thought that
they might even touch the stars,
winking away in the distance,
their spindly fingers reaching out for a touch.
But they had to return of course, after all their adventures,
for an explorer, as brave and strong, still needs his lunch.
A short story that is rather strange even to my eyes right now, but is prompted by Life Is But A Dream by Tori. My initial idea was that the little boys still had to return sooner or later, for they would continue to imagine the next day, (or rather after lunch time.)
Just something little.
Maybe animators could do something with it? And a voice recording would be lovely.
He smells like cigarettes and
tastes like wine and she knows
that's all she really needs.
For those who notice, this is an excerpt from a story I wrote called...
He sits with Charles Dickens on his lap,
a steaming mug of coffee by his side,
His half-smoked cigarette glowing.
She sits with Freddie Mercury wafting from the radio,
The dish ran away with the spoon.
No one knows how the butter knife felt.
The Lamp post.
a solitary character with a love for music,
the Lamp post spends much of her time
humming tunes that she’s
heard from passersby,
the moon her only audie...