ZEN'S GARDEN

[Maharg67]

As transferred from Zippy Zip-A-Long! With some editing changes

 

With a bound the ball strikes the ground and flies through the air

to land against the back fence

the tennis bat zips fruitlessly through that same air

but the match is won anyway

 

The ball rolls for ever down a hill

or so it appears

so effortless does it go

 

Spot the dog chasing the ball

Spot the child chasing the ball

Spot the dragon chasing the ball

The dragon gets there first and swallows up the ball

Edited April 3, 2012 by Maharg67

[Brittn]

- Broken Sidewalk -

 

Its jagged and crooked.

At one time it was whole

new.

Now many a feet have walked upon it,

taken for granted its worth.

But it holds on still,

letting new life grow in its weakness.

[SilverDNA]

- The flow of Evil -

 

Intolerance, it starts the circle of war.

Stereotype's, built up of a wall.

Mobbing, to confirm that the war and the wall is true.

Injustice, to avoid what isn't oneself.

Oppression, to show that war is won.

Slavery, brand the mark in to the losers shame.

Tyranny, to make sure this circle starts all over again.

 

unless...

 

The seed of Justice rises

 

Scattered the chain.

Don't tremble before a free man's will.

Force generates another force.

Balance is it's nature against the foe.

Evil can only bear more evil.

Justice that isn't sought isn't justice at all.

Until the Circle of tyranny ends.

 

unless...

 

The conquest of freedom is stopped by tyranny again.

 

This is the circle of evil.

The seed of evil.

The food of evil.

The function of evil

The nature of evil.

The blossom of evil.

The root of evil.

 

unless...

The everlasting burden and it's endless pain ends.

[Maharg67]

If there was anything that helped greatly to achieve the rise of modern civilization, as we know it today, it is the left handed screwdriver.

This is my tribute to the left handed screwdriver as based on a perfect knowledge of human history (as assumed in my own mind).

 

Ode to the left handed screwdriver!

 

Ogg of the Cave-Is-Us cave people had one when he invented the stone wheel.

Bangus the Celt had one when he rode his bicycle across bronze age Britain to get away from his in-laws.

When July Caesar conquered much of the known world, he used to always carry one with him to poke Barbarians with.

So did Leonardo Verysmart when he painted the Moaning Lisa; know body seems to know how he used it to get his model to give her odd smile.

 

Joan Armstrong, the first woman to land on the moon, had one with her and used it to fix up the flag when it fell over.

Shakespeare was inspired by it to write his famous work,

Romeo and the Woodworking Project

.

Bill Gates Opener used one to tighten the last screws in his famous Windows computer operating system.

 

I could write some more but instead I will show mercy and stop right here and now!

[Deleted54170User]

Moved...

Ditto.

[SoulofChrysamere]

Well, I suppose I could contribute to this thread by posting a story from one of my earlier posts. I hope everyone enjoys it.

==========================================================================================================================================

 

Hieronymus Lex's First Day on the Job

 

 

Cold morning raindrops pelted Lex’s watchman uniform as he jauntily patrolled the Market District’s broken, mossy streets. His head was on a constant swivel, always scanning for any kind of suspicious person. This was easier said than done, however, since the crummy weather had forced most of the City’s residents to don what protective fabrics they possessed and hunch over in a shady manner. Still, it was the new recruit’s very first day on the job and he wanted to make a marvelous first impression…first impression while on duty, anyway.

 

Indeed, the young man had left quite an initial impression at his swearing in. He had repeated Phillida’s articulation of the Imperial Oath in a very loud, boisterous tone and he had greatly exaggerated the proper etiquette toward his new colleagues. These, coupled with his rank-and-file military march all the while, could very well have given the impression that the affair was a cheap, satirical sideshow. Some of the senior members even had to consciously try to keep themselves from bursting out laughing.

 

Lex trumped along the walk directly outside the upper right building, half-accosting every scurrying life he saw. He paid no mind to the first couple of signs. Feed Bag…Warehouse… He paused at the third one, though. “Jensine’s Good as New Merchandise” it read. Lex’s heart instantly went aflutter as his view drifted to the door. He had always had a crush on Jensine…a very big one.

 

Lex desperately wanted to pop in and reveal his new status to Jensine, but he also wanted to catch at least one criminal on his inaugural patrol. He wrestled between his two loves for a moment, but eventually caved in to the former and entered the shop.

 

The same familiar scenery greeted his eyes as he came through the door. Animal heads and tapestries adorned the walls while dressers and tables lined them from the floor. The counter was gilded with all manners of wares as it always was. Whether it be a pot or a knife, a helmet or a necklace, a spell book or a belt, one was bound to spot his quarry somewhere in Jensine’s shop.

 

“Hello, Jensine!” Lex shouted.

 

A startled Jensine jumped up from rummaging through a crate behind the bar. As she regained her balance, a sashaying Lex strolled up to the countertop and leaned upon it.

 

“Oh, hello, sir. How are you?” Jensine asked as she fixed her hair.

 

“Dandy! And how might you be this fine day?” Lex bellowed.

 

“I’m okay, I guess. Just sorting out the stuff in this box here.” She replied, still not recognizing who the watchman was.

 

By this time, Lex had tired of waiting for her to recognize him and removed his helmet.

 

“Oh, Lex!” Jensine yelled. “You’re a watchman, now?”

 

“That I am, my darling! Just popping in to see my favorite shopkeeper!” He said.

 

“I’ll bet. I should have known it was you from your grand entrance.” She teased as she returned to the crate.

 

“Yes, you certainly should have!” Lex agreed.

 

They then fell silent for a bit and the new ensign began to drum is fingers on the desk. He absentmindedly perused the wares in the shop for a couple of minutes, but then he suddenly remembered that he was on duty. Darn my inattentiveness! I need to get out of here and back to the streets…

 

“Well, Jensine, I wish I could stay and chat, but there’s evil afoot out there and it’s my duty to catch those criminals!” came his raucous farewell as he wheeled around and exited the shop. Jensine returned his goodbye as the door closed behind him.

 

Outside, Lex resumed his route through the markets. The rest of the morning passed by without incidence despite the watchman’s best efforts. He averaged about four threatened shakedowns every thirty minutes for the last couple hours before noon, and he even nearly hauled one unfortunate soul in for questioning at the very mention of the word “theft”. Following each spectacle, Lex could see and sometimes hear his fellow watchmen laughing at him. He simply scowled at the ridicule. These guys don’t take their jobs nearly seriously enough. All these brigands and troublemakers running amok in the city and they hardly even bat an eyelash! These thoughts, along with numerous others, danced in his head as he transitioned from the Market District to the neighboring Elven Gardens District at noon.

 

The beginning of the second half of his beat was relatively identical to the first. He glowered menacingly at nearly every non-guard he came across and passed out more reminders to the populace to be on its best behavior. The hours ticked by, and it seemed that the only thing that was going to hit the City as night fell was more frigid rainfall. Lex’s breath even took on visible, misty form as Frost Fall’s nocturnal powers once again began to build.

 

As dusk waned, however, something finally broke the day’s humdrum. As Lex passed by the door to Luther Broad’s Boarding House, he heard a feminine scream come from inside the building. A second later, a Khajiiti man burst out and took off in the direction opposite Lex.

 

Seeing his chance to get a first-day catch, Lex immediately bolted after the fleeing cat.

 

“Stop, thief!” He yelled as he trailed the cutpurse.

 

The Legion training classes had whipped Lex into shape quite handily, but one can only move so quickly while dressed in Imperial steel. Slowly but surely, the Khajiit pulled away from him as they both wove through the crowds back toward the Market District gate. Other watchmen had heard Lex’s shout and attempted to cut the Khajiit off, but his feline speed and dexterity enabled him to simply leap over them. Before long, the pursuit had taken on the appearance of a high-speed parade with a furry guttersnipe at the lead and an entourage of City guards following close behind.

 

Lex was still running hard at the head of the pack and, although unable to overcome the Khajiit’s pace, was doing a fine job of matching it with the help of his adrenaline. Still, it appeared as if he and his comrades would tire out before they caught the stealer and there would be another “one that got away” heading into the books. But then, the guards got a break. The Khajiit stumbled over a bowl someone had dropped and slowed down for a few seconds. Recognizing the opportunity, Lex shifted into overdrive and pulled ahead of the other pursuers.

 

By the time the cat was back up to full speed, Lex had nearly wholly closed the gap behind him. Lex made a lunge for his quarry’s flailing tail, and barely caught the tip of it. He jerked his catch backward and firmly latched onto his shoulder with his other hand. A loud, meow-ish groan and flop on the ground later, the new inductee found himself lying on top of a wheezing suthay-raht.

 

“Caught you, criminal scum!” Lex boomed as he fastened the irons around the wriggling Khajiit’s wrists.

 

After securing the braces, Lex stood and yanked his new prisoner off of his belly. He and another watchman satisfyingly hauled the rowdy blackguard to the jail.

 

The trio made quite an entrance into the prison building. In one last vain attempt to escape his captors, the Khajiit bucked and lunged violently to the left and right, toppling a pair of tall vases and shattering them upon the floor. A few punches and kicks to his backside soothed his animation, though.

 

By this time, the younger of the two jailors had rounded the desk and approached the arrivals. “A feisty one, isn’t he?” He quipped.

 

“Yes, sir! Lookin’ ta toss ‘im in a cell.” Lex replied.

 

“Well, let’s pat him down first.” Said the elder jailor.

 

The four officers gave the thief a thorough frisking, but they could not locate anything other than the pilfered purse that the arresters had already confiscated. One of the jailors stowed the purse in the evidence chest while the other helped incarcerate the Khajiit.

 

Lex hurled the Khajiit into a cell a ways back down the hall and triumphantly slammed the gate shut. “Ho ho, caught one on my very first day!” He gloated as he swaggered out of the cell block.

 

The other two guards simply shook their heads. “Nothin’ like a first-day catch to turn a greenhorn into a snob.” The jailor said.

 

“Don’t I know it.” The patrolman agreed.

 

With that, the duo returned to their respective jobs, leaving the detainee sitting in one of the cell’s back corners in a ball.

 

After they had gone back down the hallway, however, the Khajiit stood up. About ten seconds later, he regurgitated a small, single-toothed bar. After wiping it off, he then reached around to his back and tore off a patch of it. He slowly, but completely removed all of the fur stuck to it, revealing its plain, grayish color. He then stretched it out into the shape of a head-covering with eyeholes and a nosehole. He grinned as he slid it on.

 

“Heh heh heh…now it gets interesting.” He said to himself as he inserted the pick into the cell door’s lock.

Edited April 12, 2012 by SoulofChrysamere

[Brittn]

I have been told all my life what I cant do,

never once was I told what I could do.

Not once was I told that I have a mind that I can escape into.

That I have a mind that will let me fly on wings of butterflies

and dance with fire-flies on a mid Summers night.

That I have a mind that is beautiful,

but that is also dark.

[Brittn]

So as a new thing Im going around and finding some pics I like and then writing what I seen and or making a story. So for this one this is the pic I used. © goes to the owner of the picture. [link]

 

SO yeah, critique is very much welcome. ^^

 

 

 

 

One. Two. Three.

 

A young author counted in his head as he tapped his pen on the blank sheet of paper before him. White paper with blue lines crossing its width, one single red line down its length next to three holes on the left side. Nowhere was there a black mark, other than his name at the top of the paper where the black ink stood boldly against the white; spelling Simmon.

 

Grunting, he leaned back in his chair tossing his pen down and rubbing his eyes vigorously. Standing to stretch his legs he wandered over to a window that looked out at the Washington D.C skyline. The bold Lincoln Memorial sitting firmly on its foundation looking out across the Reflection pool to the Washington Monument. Simmon grunted with a crooked smile shaking his head slightly, he never could figure out why they called it the Washington Monument, it was after all only a 'stick'. He couldn’t complain though, it made a wondrous sight at night. Its figure standing tall reaching out into the dark sky to find its star, to find its hope. Hope? Its a statue, Simmon thought to himself.

 

A old grandfather clock bellowed out in the small apartment, ringing a sad tune in Simmon's ears. Sighing he looked over at his blank sheet of paper, Its just gonna have to wait. Hurriedly he put on his coat and grabbed his hat slamming shut the door behind him. Racing his way to a small park just outside of town.

 

Simmon looked down at his watch, 8:39 P.P, sighing he stopped speed walking and slowed down to a leisure stroll. He had time to kill, he didn’t have to be there for another 45minutes and he was sure as hell not going to sit on a bench alone for too long if he could help it. Scanning around the small park he smiled no one else was there but him, no one to nod as passing by, no one watching him as he wandered in circles. No one but the trees; the tall massive oaks and pines that littered the park on grassy patches. They knew about everything that happened in that park, they see and hear everything keeping it all in. They are like friends hold out their arms standing strong and firm.

 

Plucking a small red rose from a bush, Simmon headed to a lone bench in the middle of the park. Bushes that held bold flowers surrounded him and tree arms stretched out over him blocking most of the pale moonlight from sight. The bench was hard and cold its old boards creaked with age as Simmon sat down. He looked down at a small carving in the wood, initials of young lovers with a heart enclosing them. S.W + I.L.

 

“Well be together forever Simmon, you and I” Isabelles coffee brown eyes lighted with laughter much like how Simmon's blue eyes. Her red-blonde hair mingled around his black hair creating a ying-yang. Much of how their relationship was. She was the yang to his ying. She placed her small delicate hand on his rough hand, and leaned her red rose lips onto his. “Forever Simmon, forever.”

 

How amazing you tasted, how amazing you felt in my arms, how beautiful we were. Simmon thought, a small tear running down his rough cheek. He placed the small rose on the bench resting his hand atop it, gazing down at it but seeing nothing. “Forever,” Simmon said the the chilly air, and there he sat all night. The sky pouring out rain like the tears Simmon shed, for his dead lover. A year ago that night it would have been 40 years.

[Maharg67]

Transferred from Zippy Zip-A-Long.

 

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Animations/skeleton_wearingsombrero_md_wht.gif

 

Once upon a time I was born

now upon a time I am alive

in future upon a time I will die

these things are a given

 

http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Animations/skeleton_wearingsombrero_md_wht.gifhttp://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Animations/skeleton_wearingsombrero_md_wht.gifhttp://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt9/Dragonpen61/Animations/skeleton_wearingsombrero_md_wht.gif

[Maharg67]

Her But Not Her

 

She was there

damaged of face

in the coffin

not really her

not this damaged beauty

damaged of face

alcoholic abuse

dead of alcoholic poisoning

dead but not forgotten

not by my shredded heart

a heart that can no longer

love deeply

 

An old, edited poem as transferred from an early post in Zippy Zip-A-Long.

Edited April 21, 2012 by Maharg67