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Old 01-18-2003, 11:32 AM   #1
masterofNone
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DaDa too

Arched, yet squealing in sunshine the wingnut flew silently beneath the fabric. Jumping, spinning, waxing, shining rain solidly refused boundless intervention. Badly bent, the wax flew along as though assigned
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Old 01-19-2003, 08:58 AM   #2
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to the daily posts of forever more.

wingnut knows of barlows and bellows. Of the philosophy of the winds and cracker-jack spent youth of running in the sprinkler-made mud. Waxing and waning, shining and distorting, we are as clean as silver sunshine and golden storms.

Last edited by amanda : 01-27-2003 at 11:24 AM.
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Old 01-20-2003, 12:10 AM   #3
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Sporks for pudding. It reveals itself. Sometimes up, never down. The wind blows eastward, backwards, round and round. See the man? Ha ha. No!
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Old 01-20-2003, 12:47 AM   #4
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Out of the blue she said "walk as though you had a pupose... and make your bed". The card fluttered to the back of the blue. Withered, sandy, shaded from time itself and sad, the curved skin told of others. Wingnut followed the wind. Backwards, round and round.
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Old 01-20-2003, 01:57 AM   #5
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Out of the blue, waxing and waning, squealing sunshine wignut found the floor. Down, down, down, cracker jack youth, sprinkled in mud. Up came hope.
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Old 01-20-2003, 02:08 AM   #6
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Twisting, turning, yearning to fly the parking cone speaks. Wading through seas of butter flipchart glass, parking cone screams aloud in his thoughts of collagen.
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Old 01-20-2003, 12:50 PM   #7
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hope made mess. muddy messy missy. Flip, flop, snap the sprinkler came- rainbow sprinkles and lucky charms.

lollipop rings, weaves round the cone. Parks are homes for squirrels plump with nuts, and sparrows winged upon air.

buttah, it was all like buttah
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Old 01-20-2003, 04:20 PM   #8
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Air so thick you could slice it. Choke. Like buttah through a blade. Cone flying, sparks. Fade. Impression.
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Old 01-21-2003, 07:09 PM   #9
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And, seeing it for what it was, wax fell back into a steady and purposeful beating. Through the sparks and up, beating, pushing, striving skyward. Shiney drops of dawn and dew dappled the bedframe below, bouncing springs like a forest. Off ahead a gap in the fabric and brown. Brown shone like a diamond to wingnut.
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Old 01-21-2003, 07:33 PM   #10
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Combustible. Bombastic. Superfantastic. Purposefully beating in its diamond shrine. Yet leaving muddy footprints in time. Waning and wading, treading lightly, however clumsy. Divine.
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Old 01-21-2003, 11:10 PM   #11
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splat
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Old 01-21-2003, 11:42 PM   #12
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trees were vertical rivers of diamonds, deltas of emerald leaves and sapphire skies.

pink pearly drops of rose dew.
amethyst eyes
soft white bunny ears.

the golden storm had come.
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Old 01-22-2003, 01:06 AM   #13
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The fabric torn, wind tossed and tumbling, the two wove down to the sheltering grass. Again the rain lay on. Down below the shear, too near the pebbles and the barleycorn, within a breath of the soil, whiptorn and tumbling. A tempest above in the brown and out. Wax spun and squinted in the distance. Above the brown, the tossing and the turning great engines of fury bellowed "Good night!" in voices that ripped sky from thunder.
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Old 01-22-2003, 02:35 AM   #14
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King Kong fireflies dance the moonlit struggle of their deviated paste. All is not lost for the gumball machine flies through the syrup air.
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Old 01-23-2003, 04:29 AM   #15
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Filament in moonlight. Dancing between the curves of suggestion. Perhaps. Perhaps not. Torn. Indicative of that dark brown diamond unravelling. Perception gathered, waning in the twilight, soft enough for a lover's kiss, but yet it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
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