Story Time

Discussion in 'Bad Dog Cafe' started by Wailin' Tele, Feb 22, 2016.

  1. Wailin' Tele

    Wailin' Tele Tele-Afflicted

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    Outside the clouds seem to take on a meaning, and at these moments it is like they are speaking to me, reflecting myself in its dark aspect of premonition and doom, telling of a king that was soon realized by the light of silvered moon rays, changing the countenance from man shape, changing its fevered sorrow, forming a hidden possibility of life without stereotypes and rules and denunciation. A form takes shape into the ancient lawless king of nature, primal and free and howling in pure ecstasy of bonds finally broken, freedom finally known, to run and slobber with abandon, not caring nor noticing the skein of being that stamps the free will from mortals, forces them to follow the law of the three Norns who weave and weave their tapestry making their pattern be, and now that the king has snapped through the golden thread, its reverberations ripple the very fabric of fate, giving the king his chance at screaming vengeance from his once human fate, to become a god of moonbeams and deep forest shadows, of running and lust and grime and pure satiation, a child of mother moon who translated finally the Suns awful fury of truth, law and definition, giving her child a chance to come away from the ultimate knowledge unscathed, unlike Adam and Eve whose accidental knowledge began the terrible cycle of death and servitude to the pattern of fate, and drew us all into the horizontal world, forever seeking that time before knowledge where true freedom was and beckons, forever making us mortals miserable in our unknowing, forever seeing maybe the glimmer of what was behind the weathered clouds and my furrowed brow.
     
  2. JayJ

    JayJ Tele-Afflicted

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    so are you channeling Henry Miller or Hubert Selby jr.
     
  3. uriah1

    uriah1 Telefied Ad Free Member

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    I would hope norns use more periods.
     
  4. kelnet

    kelnet Telefied Ad Free Member

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    Always leave the windows open when you paint your living room.
     
  5. Jupiter

    Jupiter Telefied Silver Supporter

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    Then what happened?

     
  6. william tele

    william tele Doctor of Teleocity Ad Free Member

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    Normally I'd say there's a song in there somewhere but...nope.
     
  7. HoodieMcFoodie

    HoodieMcFoodie Doctor of Teleocity Ad Free Member

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    I think Buck Dharma could do something with it...
     
  8. Wailin' Tele

    Wailin' Tele Tele-Afflicted

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    Through the dark expanse of primal forest green gazed the beast, sanguine fangs dripping, prey twitching under clenched claw. A sound insinuated itself sweetly through the oppressive darkness like a tendril of mist, a siren song for wild tempers, a honeyed promise of blood lust satiated. Unresisting he howled his answer and the forest shivered and silence once more weighed down. There again, oh so gently, enticing melody sensually beckoning, he bound forth with unrestrained ferocity, the new prey, the ultimate prey waiting, his slavering screams ripping apart the verdant canopy. He burst forth from the ancient tree stock, eyes flaming and powerful sinews quivering, and there she stood.
     
  9. surfoverb

    surfoverb Doctor of Teleocity

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    The night was dry, yet it was raining...
     
  10. kelnet

    kelnet Telefied Ad Free Member

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    The boy stood on the burning deck...
     
  11. HoodieMcFoodie

    HoodieMcFoodie Doctor of Teleocity Ad Free Member

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    [​IMG]
     
  12. MuddyDitch

    MuddyDitch Tele-Holic

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    bull cookies drying on the prairie oyster stew beef cattle call home town idiot savant rambling nonsense
     
  13. overlock

    overlock Tele-Afflicted

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    Somewhere in the distance, a dog was barfing. I mean barking.

    Definitely barking.
     
  14. Henry

    Henry Tele-Holic

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    That's great Wailin' Tele, lovely rhythm and diction. You obviously have something to say, keep saying it.
     
  15. Wailin' Tele

    Wailin' Tele Tele-Afflicted

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    LYCANTHROPY

    I found myself alone
    In May
    Perhaps it was April
    The Rain was extraordinarily
    Bitter


    I befriended the Moon
    That month
    It was so bright

    Only a minute before
    The storm resided
    The clouds parted
    And that silvered sphere
    Seemed to say
    "Did not expect this Eh"
    All I could do was shake
    My rain speckled cheeks
    From side to side
    My voice was enclosed meekly
    on the moment
    "no"

    I thought
    Me lunatic comemooning

    I felt
    Light...warming...something

    I wondered
    If some flowers
    were nourished
    upon moonlight
    alone

    yesterday mother went back in the hospital
    last night Father talked about the birds and the bees with
    Cutty Sark
    Bedtime I draped my thigh
    Over bundled blankets instead
    and kissed the pillow
    that bitter rain
    washed remembered
    fragrance from


    Now eight months past April
    Or was it June
    It doesn't matter

    Eight times I have
    talked to myself
    Eight times I have sighed
    silent
    Eight times I have seen
    My best friend full bloomed
    Shining down at me

    I think
    never have I seen your every cycle
    I feel
    something...struggling...not to die
    I wonder
    upon that which is afraid to be born
    nourished solely on moonlight

    Today mother takes her Xanex
    Drinks a couple of white wines
    (don't worry mother i'm here for you too)

    Tonight dad tells his son Cutty
    how proud he is of him
    (I'm sorry father for being only water)

    Bedtime, Valentines this Sunday
    I drape my thigh over bundled blankets
    rest my head on moonlit pillow
     
  16. telleutelleme

    telleutelleme Doctor of Teleocity Silver Supporter

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    I jumped a string bean.
     
  17. william tele

    william tele Doctor of Teleocity Ad Free Member

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    People shouldn't talk about Lycanthropy until they have awakened at dawn, naked, with a fully distended belly, next to a half eaten deer...with the worst case of poison ivy you can imagine...and in serious need of a Tic-Tac...
     
  18. Wailin' Tele

    Wailin' Tele Tele-Afflicted

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    Through the drab curtain the moon shined down on blood splatter, highlighting an already complicated pattern of the Persian rug, somehow blending in and hiding its nefarious existence. The Presence was felt like a hot breath and had the same effect as if a wild animal was huffing and drooling down the nape of my neck. Goose bumps sprouted as once again, though not seen, I felt an evil was near, moving, stalking, I was the rabbit. I knew that my time on earth depended on my next actions like no other I had faced before. The beast was nigh and its deathly mistress beckoned for sacrifice. Sacrifice I would not be. I crouched down and pulled out my ancient silver blade from the cane crafted by the arcane masters of yore and invoked the lines from the liber lycanus, steeling myself for the next moment, praying that it will not be my last. Fortune struck, for as I felt the unseen anticipation of a trap about to spring the grandfather clock rang out and the next few moments of action seemed to slow.
     
  19. Frank'n'censed

    Frank'n'censed Doctor of Teleocity

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    Perhaps, but Shirley, Pearlman or Meltzer would take notice.
     
  20. BB

    BB Poster Extraordinaire

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    It was so quiet that night.....perhaps too quiet thought Sturdley Pavaquah as he listened closely for the gentle breeze that would be upon his soon. The rare breeze he had experienced several times before, but only in his dreams.

    How? How can such a thing happen! That question (and several others, like whats for dinner, did he just fart, or was it shart?) ran over and over in his head. After a quick trip home to change, (it was shart, darn it!) another though permeated his brain.... How can a handful of nearly extinct female South African Dipsy moths flap their beautiful (yet ugly) little wings and create enough wind to power the new solar windmills General Pita fought so hard to bring to this rare little corner of the world.

    Yes, the moon was full and the clouds a putrid yellow with a bit of burnt umber as they passed by. As peals of thunder shook the earth and mixed together with horns honking from a traffic jam, the primal cry of a bleating sheep and the gentle, yet comforting yelps coming from a pack of 12 barkless African Basinji dogs, Sturdley was suddenly speechless. He thought, "I cand feel it, I can taste it, yes, I can even touch it", ('just listen to that smell') but the closer it came, the closer it came.....

    Suddenly, without any warning,
     
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