Posts by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
(DIR) Post #ASbrGhih1RA5N99CwS by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-12T12:20:02Z
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It was shortly after the scientists fractured reality that she realised the world, now, was made of cake.
(DIR) Post #AScMPuCP5im7GFubUu by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-12T17:32:40Z
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Hmm... Shortbread...
(DIR) Post #ASfpG1AtmUPI93j1xA by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-13T22:28:17Z
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In the desert are many mysteries.Gaze at the wilderness and be silent. In time, you will see. You will understand.You will see the world as it is, and the world that is above our world. You will see the desert that is hidden by the sky. When you see it, you will understand. How unreal is all that we take to be certain.
(DIR) Post #ASirqICyi8RWmV0DxI by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-15T21:58:53Z
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"You see the notes?""Of course"She smiled at him. "Well, they are clues. You have to work them out, and choose the right one."He was unsure whether or not that smile was cheerful or slightly insincere. "So, this is a test of some sort?""Of course it is," she assured him, motioning toward the counter."But why? What is the point?" he queried."To see if you have got what it takes to survive." He looked at her, sharply. "Survive what?""The cyanide. What else? Be sure to choose very carefully."
(DIR) Post #ASirumkF7QEaeAhiOu by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-15T22:13:59Z
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They walked across the fields, toward the light that cast the mountains into silhouettes. It was as if they had walked that path for centuries, hand in hand. The sun, ever setting, never seemed to get any lower; the mountains never nearer.Wordlessly, silently, eagerly, they walked, unblinking, their bond expressed in the contact of their hands, but never glancing away from the view, the destination, the destiny. In the clouds, they saw the shapes of the land of their dreams. A land to which they will walk, as long as this world continues.
(DIR) Post #ASlX3GobgcSSf6pVaa by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-16T20:50:34Z
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Here, on this deserted, ruined world, amid the ruins of some long dead civilisation, we find the signs, the remnants of their high culture. Books in incomprehensible, holographic hieroglyphs, clearly meant for creatures with multiple eyes. Statues of impossible heroes with unfathomable anatomy.And music. Instruments that could be played only by disjointed octopodes, at once strangely familiar, yet far from anything that could exist at home.What symphonies could these people play? Perhaps it was the music of the cosmos that lifted them beyond the stars, and to their sad, glorious fate.
(DIR) Post #ASml4Soi8vMagsIlmK by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-17T20:33:16Z
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You know, it really gets me. The arrogance. The shameless superiority complex. The dismissive attitude they have to the rest of us...These humans! It's like they don't even believe us sasquatch exist.
(DIR) Post #ASqH0Kohj1QgjBFlg0 by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-18T22:25:38Z
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It made no sense. The inspector viewed the scene. Everything seemed strangely normal. Everything seemed abnormal and strange.White sand, but no footsteps. Creases in the sand like it had been turned into some insane bedsheet. The drinks set out ready to pour, but the glasses so clean The vehicle with a model city in the rear - emitting sounds as if it was a real, living place. The guitar, ready to be played, and a hat somehow hanging over it like a surrealist painting come to life. What has happened here?Where is the musician? Then, from that bizarre cityscape in the truck, the sound of a jazz guitarist seemed to soar above the noise of the traffic.
(DIR) Post #ASqoVYjNL8k7LVG1cu by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-19T18:21:06Z
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Interesting. My wife doubts if I am, really, of this world...
(DIR) Post #ASt2ot0pwdijQOSG8m by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-20T22:00:28Z
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"And this," he said, pointing to the device that was eyeing up the kettle with barely disguised hostility, "is why I was so reluctant to have my energy supplier install a smart meter..."
(DIR) Post #ASt2tW64ZVRHnk6zeC by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-20T22:12:58Z
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Come with me.We approach the temple over the blood red rocks, across the barren waste of the cursed sands. The old sanctuary, ancient beyond time, keeps vigil at the edge of a cliff. The greater temple is built into a rocky outcrop - anchored to the earth.Here, we may contemplate many eternities, through the mirror of the cosmic soul. Here, we may see wonders, terrors, the heavens of what we call heaven, and the blackest shadows of what we fear to call hell. Here, most terrifying of all, we may contemplate even ourselves, across many realities and in many forms.You may not live to tell of this, but there is no regret. Not in that temple. Not in the place where the spirit can expand beyond the infinite. So, come with me.
(DIR) Post #ASzXVLBBm2ygWEDTRA by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-23T23:21:02Z
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They weep today. Even the gods weep. Their sorrow is bounded only by eternity itself, as they wait.It is not for faith that they pine, nor for the honours of the ancient altars. Faith was the currency of a religion they never created, and even the old sacrifices were the inventions of men. No - they weep not for their loss of followers, for they never sought such. Olympus stands tall without mens' vainglorying. Rather, it is for mens' loss of the gods that their sorrow, their agony, is so unfathomable.As the new religion tightened its deathly grip on humankind, the palaces of the old gods were sullied in the imaginations of men. Freedom and honour were destroyed in the very name of honour and freedom.The gods know the ruin of their younger brethren, their brethren men. And Poseidon, himself, sits, disconsolate, beside the temple he rent in his fury and despair at the folly of these, who should have become more than mortals.They weep, today, and wait. Not for men to honour the gods again, but to honour themselves, and to remember the divine that is the soul of all.
(DIR) Post #AT0Rpmw7sWSDpYUv8S by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-24T13:25:29Z
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She screamed. It was ugly, aggressive looking, hard shelled and many clawed. It seemed to have stormed through the rock, almost as if made of stone. It was her nightmare in waking life. She grabbed her child protectively."Mummy," he said, nervously, "what's wrong? Don't you like my plasticine model?"
(DIR) Post #AT2JQUPbCl6xowd3jc by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-24T18:02:43Z
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And how do you react if the mouse is still alive...?
(DIR) Post #AT3SFokyJhWWTkZWUK by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-25T21:51:52Z
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I went looking for them because of what I was told. I sought for them because of the promises that the old stories held. I travelled far over the seas, searching, and shouting my requests into the depths of the oceans.Mermaids. They told me they were beautiful brides...
(DIR) Post #AT6WsC5oz3tP9Ml69o by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-26T11:52:45Z
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Prohibition is back. The "moral majority" impressing their so called values on the rest of us. Some protested, at the start. Most shrugged their shoulders. I just wanted a drink.They do not call a gin-joint "speakeasy" any more. That is too old fashioned, I suppose. But the new name puzzled me. Why was a drinking den now called a "nest"? Not that it mattered. So, I made a few discreet enquiries. Yesterday, in the street, someone pressed a piece of paper into my palm. An address, with a drawing of a feather. I decided I would take the chance. My act of rebellion against the oppressors.The door was down steps, a basement entrance. I only had to wait seconds before the door was opened. The man who had passed me the paper. No questions needed. He ushered me down a dark corridor to a room with the word "Bar" attached on a sticky-note.It took a while for my eyes to adjust - even the corridor was light in comparison. The sounds confused me as I waited to see, peering into the shadows. Then, I felt a cold shudder as I saw those callous eyes, shining beaks and the razor sharp talons. They were huge, and hungry. My only hope was to offer my services - to promise to bring new flesh to a fate the prohibitionists had never even considered, in reward for my life, and some foul liquor distilled from the blood of my species.
(DIR) Post #AT7lSMaN2hL4dN9HnM by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-02-27T22:07:37Z
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Wandering in this land of nightmares, he remembered the book he had read only a day before. It seemed strangely prophetic yet sadly inaccurate. Surely, that thing should be a tripod?
(DIR) Post #ATBoxcIXkc1cpyFCzY by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-03-01T21:56:58Z
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They say she is gentle, the ancient goddess, Hestia. Some may even call her "sweet". But look deeper...There is a fierce quietness in her gaze - and you will misjudge her at your peril. For the hearth is where her fire burns - the fire that protects the home you would invade; and it is the fire that blazes in her heart, her soul, and in her steady, piercing eyes.It will consume you.
(DIR) Post #ATBp6LMq4HuivxPmIS by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2023-03-01T22:06:33Z
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I awoke, screaming. The hordes were coming, and our defences were not ready.Or so my dream had told me.I had been dozing, on the tourist bus. It was too long a journey. Sleep had been inevitable, and had taken me to a station on a wall, viewing a vast plain swarming with death. I had felt real fear, grasping my sword, praying that the bowmen might thin the oncoming tide of ferocity, knowing that there were not enough of them.Now, as my fellow travellers looked at me with half-humorous concern, and we clambered off the bus, I looked up at the ancient stones. My fear returned, for I knew that is where I had stood, moments and centuries before - and I had a strange foreboding that what has been will so be again
(DIR) Post #AhTtDK718xcGURFYzw by sj_ashcroft2@libranet.de
2024-05-01T21:56:56Z
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In silence, darkness,I wait. What fire will kindlein this patient heart?© Simon J Ashcroft, 2024#haiku #poem #Poetry