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The Long Wait For SeptemberThe Long Wait For September
-Chapter One: Mabel-
The hand of the goddess moved the black mouse across the wooden desk. The cursor slowly found the tiny icon with the little face. Left-click. She waited as the opening screens came up.
Finally, the screen with the big green arrow. The goddess clicked the arrow, to begin work at giving her newest creation a cybernetic semblance of life.
The first to appear was a girl. She was already somewhat pretty with long wavy brown hair. A quick zoom revealed that her eyes were also brown.
After some consideration, it was decided that her features were fine as they were.
The clothes, however, were another matter. After all, black mesh stockings were not suitable on someone wearing a cowboy hat. The pink, white and black plaid skirt and leather vest would also have to go.
After a moment, the goddess selected a pair of faded jeans, cowboy boots and a brown t-shirt.
Another zoom and the goddess looked into the brown eyes of her creation.
The Genius's SecretMax Headroom:
The Genius’s Secret
Bryce was taking a rare break in his studio. The smallest TV set on his desk was broadcasting that night’s episode of Network 23’s soap opera Hattie and Soul.
It was about a month since Edison Carter had done the report on Ovu-Vat and their artificial wombs called GroBags.
Edison Carter. The man had somehow managed to find his way into Bryce’s heart. This was not an easy thing to accomplish. Bryce had always been very cold when it came to personal relationships; preferring to keep everything on a professional level. It was, after all, better for concentration.
Bryce tried to take his mind off Edison by focusing temporarily on the soap opera that was on the screen. Hattie, the shows titular character, and her paramour Richard, were expecting their first child. She was showing, as women in her condition called it, her belly swollen with the child she carried. Sitting around her in a colorfully decorated room, her
Max Headroom - CybersoulMax Headroom: Cybersoul
-Chapter One: Cybersoul -
Network 23 operated under a cloud of grief these days.
The ratings had been low for about a month. But this was an effect rather than a cause. The cause had been the untimely death of the network’s youngest employee, Bryce Lynch.
It had happened so quickly that even those who knew about it from the beginning hadn’t been able to properly deal with it.
It affected Edison’s work greatly. The ace reporter had had to get used to the idea of finding many of the answers he’d always turned to Bryce for by himself.
It was impossible for Edison to not think of Bryce during work. They’d been an inseparable team; Edison, Theora, and Bryce. One could’ve almost called them family.
Edison hated the idea that he was not allowed to confront Dr. Buxton directly. The man had killed Bryce, after all. And Edison wanted revenge so badly he could taste it.
Cheviot had refused his request, however. Network 23’s chairma
Beware Of The Bad BoySo he touches you in all of the right places
But with a clenched fist and not a gentle hand
By ‘right places’ I mean those easily hidden
By the latest expensive designer brand
Which he buys you to either keep your silence
Or to beg and to plead for your forgiveness
Is this where the attraction of a bad boy lies?
Please explain where is the excitement in this?
So he kisses you with a so-called passion
His hands round your neck steal a two letter word
It seems that he cannot feel satisfaction
Unless you show him signs that his dominance hurts
Which he tightens each time to keep your silence
Or maybe he just enjoys hearing you moan
Is this the deed of some stalker, some stranger?
No, this is your husband and this is your home
So he lays you out on the living room floor
I wonder what will fall down to the carpet first
The drops of blood from between your legs
Or the tears flowing between his regretful words
Which he whispers in your ear as you lay silent
It’s safe to say
The Villain (Bye Bye Mr. Nice Guy)I am desperately seeking someone to save me
Wondering where I have been going wrong
The more I allow myself to be walked over
The more I feel like it’s where I belong
Under the tread marks of your rubber soled shoe
My face has been driven in to the mud
You’ve laced my dignity with so much self doubt
What on earth have I gained from being good
I am desperately seeking something to save me
The next line to the poem of my life
Dissecting my past with clinical precision
Using a pen-shaped surgical knife
With a blade that seems to cut deeper and deeper
Each time that I am wounded or I am hurt
But maybe now is the time to put down my pen
And distribute my anger with more than words
I am desperately seeking something to save me
I feel I’m on the cusp of a rebirth
I will take centre stage and leave you in the wings
There is no more time left to rehearse
I have stiffened the sinews, I have summoned the blood
I face my fears and I’ve made a decision
I can be strong, I can
Introspection in a Pale Moon LightAm I a dream of the universe?
A microcosm of the cosmos
A transient flash of memory
Soon forgotten for eternity
Am I a conscious collection of atoms?
Converging together at random
An essence in constant motion
Like a ripple upon the ocean
We are all made of star dust
Born when giant gas clouds combust
In a symphony of the spheres
Free from anxiety and of fears
We are never ending energy
Dancing across the galaxy
From Andromeda to the Milky Way
Like a ballerina in a ballet
WordsIt’s when I get my thoughts to rhyme
That I can truly start to see
What has been swirling in my mind,
And then I get to set it free.
A turmoil of chaotic calls
Becomes a desperate, pleading choir
Of thousands of tangled words
Awaiting me to help them thrive.
They cry, and weep, and beg like kids,
Won’t let me drown myself in sleep
Until I give them what they need –
A string of rhythm and sense to grip.
I strive and strive to make them speak
And give them a melodic vibe.
Yet their presence is too weak,
I'm losing hope that they'll survive.
But after stumbling time and time
Again to let them slip away
I start to hear their chime.
I start to see them find a way.
So one by one and step by step
I see them coming up to me.
They join to spin a magic web –
My soul’s true epitome.
And that’s the place they shall remain,
In subtle, fearless accord.
I never thought that I could tame
Such mischievous, capricious words.
So now I’m pacing back and forth
DethronedDelicate fingertips were once against my cheek,
as were the smiles that you so affectionately cast towards me.
But then you tossed me into the gaping sea,
and I am no longer a beloved queen to thee.
Sweet Music MelodySweet Music Melody lend a mid-night dance to me
Oh what tender lips are these that lay sweet kisses on my cheeks
Making my bashful heart sing...sing...sing
Sweet Music Melody lend a mid-night song to me
Oh what beautiful notes your voice is to a lover's song
beckoning a drifting soul home sweet home
Sweet Music Melody never let your music end
Play your seductive heart's song again and again
Step by step, song by song, you and I are forever one
She Does Not Love YouDo not hear
Her glorious speech
Pretend to be deaf.
Elude her hair
Dancing in the air
Don’t think about
Those sunny eyes
Knowing your past
With just one look.
Avoid her laugh
A melody of harp
Played by angels.
She’s hurting you
Giving you false
When she reveals
All her evil plan
You will be broken
Thinking about suicide.
Bury the memories
With you by her side
Even if they are
The best times
Of your life.
Four EverSugar coated, and devoted
To the bright side of life.
Optimistic, and artistic
With a blessed soul and mind.
May God bless you, for breaking through
The darkest side of death.
Keep your smile clear, my precious dear
For it brightens the sky.
A Rainy PlaceWandering roads that branch so I can never see
Where the path I choose will likely carry me
Then comes the fear
As apprehension looms above
Like the cloud I am always victim of
Driest days are still enough to make me drown
Happy plays go on in side my little crown
But always in
To show these thoughts enlightening
Speed up the coming derailing
Conclusions crash from up above
To think my mind was stronger stuff
A paper boat
In sea that grows around my feet
The longer I wait with all the thoughts I keep
Mask the way with rain as paved paths taper on
The traveller who must be gone
Then comes the pain
How I cannot be one of them
Who takes a gamble on a whim
Yesterday was long before the one I made
I forget how many of them passed the same
My will is only weakening
Come future I will not be able swimming
Earth to break from where I stand as water falls
Wash the state lethargic I am victim of
Unable to move
Even when all offered it slowly takes
With nothing left I will not wake
I Shall Be A Reaper One DayI Shall Be A Reaper One Day
by Axel Ingleson
Ever since I was a child
Death seemed natural to me
I wasn't morbid
Of what eventually must be
It's not just that, though
Death always walked quite near
It never bothered
And never caused me fear.
Not suicidal am I
It just is not my style
Just friend of Death
I've been for quite some while
Movies, TV, songs, and more
Have whispered what's to be
I think of my
Future death scythe
And what it's form will be.
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