Populus Ex Machina: Ryland by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Populus Ex Machina: Ryland
"If we don't get out of here, we're going to die!" Ryland yelled, but everyone just stared at him. He scrambled to his feet and staggered over by Jack and the professor guy, Ed something he was sure his name was.
"You knew about this didn't you!" By the time Ryland made it to them and grabbed onto Jack's collar, the pilot and the rest of the council were there. He swung on the pilot and punched him in the face.
"You must have seen it! You know we're gonna die! That's why you haven't even tried to get us home!"
The pilot jumped up from the floor where Ryland's hit had flung him and threw himself back at Ryland. Just before his hands coul
Populus Ex Machina - Ed by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Populus Ex Machina - Ed
"Yes, um, well," he started, then cleared his throat. "I think we may have crashed a bit farther from home than we thought. About 250 million years farther."
Ed took a peculiar joy in being so dramatic. Very rarely had he been in a position to deliver a news flash like this. He felt rather like the newscasters who covered the Hindenburg crash, JFK's shooting, the moon landing, and the discovery of actual life on Mars. He figured the shock of just where they were hadn't sunk in yet, and the bump he'd taken on his head during the crash may have had something to do with that. And that was a Lystrosaurus, a real live one. This was better than
Populus Ex Machina: Jack by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Populus Ex Machina: Jack
This is Earth Orbital Control to transport ship 7432.
Go ahead EOC, this is transport ship 7432.
Begin final approach, drop your speed to half, and prepare to disengage from your main engines in 5 minutes.
Roger, EOC. Beginning final approach, speed to half, and preparing to disengage from main engines in 5 minutes.
Back in the cabin, a flight attendant stood up in front of the passengers right as a light flashed on with a little ding.
The Captain has turned on the seat belt sign. Please, everyone, sit up straight, secure all loose objects, and if needed, help the passenger to yo
Snow. A suffocating blanket of blankness. Featureless and cold damn cold. And dark. Even when the sun is up, its never really up. Clouds, haze, and obtuse angles make it impossible. The darkness seems to intrude, over-power, subsume, and finally, control you. You are no longer yourself, you are the darkness, and cold, and bleak nothingness of winter. Poets claim snow is like a blank slate, a winter wonderland of beauty and shining diamond-like snowflakes falling on two lovers walking in a park, with Christmas lights on every tree and a cup of cocoa in every house. They know nothing of true winter. Even the trees know the lie, all
The silence surrounds me like a tomb, my things arranged around me like the treasure interred with Egyptian mummies, standing quiet sentinel to my restless night. The heat is bad enough, but the humidity is the real killer. It gets so bad that you can't tell if your skin is slick from the air or your own sweat. Another example of imperfection in the human design, sweating only makes things worse when the air can't even hold onto the moisture it has, like a naïve, idealistic addict on his first trip to Vegas, his money burning a hole in his pocket, and I'm the unwilling house, raking in the moisture hand over fist…and under arm and chest and b
The glow from the 78" TV flickered across their faces as they flipped the channels.
"Today, for the low, low price of-"
"-four dead people in-"
"-a smooth circular motion-"
-"you have to see to believe!"
"Turn it back to the Wolf," Patrick's mother, Annette, said. Her waxen features turned a deathly shade of blue in the warm glow as her husband, Peter, complied, changing it back to the 24-hour news feed.
"Tonight! Breaking! Pollution and air-borne viruses have gotten worse, now only 10 minutes is enough to kill you! What YOU need to know to keep you and your children SAFE! But first, how do you make the perfect ice cream sunda
Clouds crawl across the sky.
Days like this should never die.
They do. It makes me cry.
From my bed, I see it all.
I see dusk fall,
throwing shadows against the wall.
These bars aren't real.
These wounds won't heal.
I'm trapped here of my own accord.
These thoughts of mine can't be ignored.
I stare for hours at the floor.
I pound the door.
I don't want to think any more.
I slip back into bed.
A crazy thought enters my head:
"What if I'm dead?"
I grab my ears,
twist my head and squeeze out tears.
How many more years?
These bars aren't real.
These wounds won't heal.
I'm trapped here of my own accord.
These thoughts of mine
The rain flashes
overhead in the lightning.
I'm sick of the wet.
I'm sick of the fighting.
Lieutenant yells
"Drop!"
I inhale mud.
The jungle explodes,
pieces of light
fly all around me.
The clouds break apart,
the moon struggles through.
The stars look beautiful.
Populus Ex Machina: Ryland by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Populus Ex Machina: Ryland
"If we don't get out of here, we're going to die!" Ryland yelled, but everyone just stared at him. He scrambled to his feet and staggered over by Jack and the professor guy, Ed something he was sure his name was.
"You knew about this didn't you!" By the time Ryland made it to them and grabbed onto Jack's collar, the pilot and the rest of the council were there. He swung on the pilot and punched him in the face.
"You must have seen it! You know we're gonna die! That's why you haven't even tried to get us home!"
The pilot jumped up from the floor where Ryland's hit had flung him and threw himself back at Ryland. Just before his hands coul
Populus Ex Machina - Ed by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Populus Ex Machina - Ed
"Yes, um, well," he started, then cleared his throat. "I think we may have crashed a bit farther from home than we thought. About 250 million years farther."
Ed took a peculiar joy in being so dramatic. Very rarely had he been in a position to deliver a news flash like this. He felt rather like the newscasters who covered the Hindenburg crash, JFK's shooting, the moon landing, and the discovery of actual life on Mars. He figured the shock of just where they were hadn't sunk in yet, and the bump he'd taken on his head during the crash may have had something to do with that. And that was a Lystrosaurus, a real live one. This was better than
Why Did The Chicken Cross The by QBCPerdition, literature
Literature
Why Did The Chicken Cross The
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Not to get to the other side.
For that side was no different than his
and offered no place to hide.
Perhaps he crossed to say he had,
Bragging rights at the bar.
Perhaps the cattle dared him
to race the speeding car.
Why don't we ask him ourselves
and put it all behind us?
For only he can say for sure
why he created all the fuss.
Alas we cannot ask him
and the truth will not be told.
For upon return, a semi came
and ground him in the road.
The rest is speculation
battered 'round on idle days.
And from this comes a lesson:
Always look both ways.
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home,
as long as it's huge with a big yard to roam.
Way out in the suburbs on my perfect green lawn,
with my wife, my two kids and my dog looking on.
The pool is an in-ground for when we stay here,
and the cabin's just perfect; not too far or near.
With the hibachi burning and the steaks nice and thick,
if our neighbors want seconds they'd better be quick.
My wife's new Explorer and my red Corvette
look great by the boat that we just had to get.
My credit card limit has risen again.
Which is great, 'cus there's always much more I can spend.
Our bills are atrocious but we can get by
livi
My heart's desire puddled at my feet
You've softly just said "No"
I'll never find another who can meet
The beauty that you show
I bravely laid my heart out on the line
To finally let you in
Now I see I wasted too much time
Shyness my only sin
Had I spoken up sooner, maybe then
Your answer would have been good
Now I wait for never, 'cause only then
Can I redo what I should
This is my own personal perspective
Maybe yours is not the same
Changing your mind's not my objective
It's to release; not to gain
I know you never wanted to hurt me
And for that I'm truly glad
Because now, I'll never have to see
How it would feel if you h
On a bed you entered my life
We held you asleep in our arms
Your first bed was in our room
To keep you out of harm.
Your bed then moved to the room next door
But in you ran when thunder rolled.
Later you stopped us from tucking you in
You claimed you were too old.
And in that bed you left my life
Your laughter comes no more.
Alone in darkness now you sleep
While I sleep on the floor.
I drive straight ahead, hovering around 40.
It's great to get out of there and
I'm pleased at what appears ahead.
The bright yellow sun shines out of a clear blue sky.
Yet, in my rearview mirror are big, gray clouds ripped
By intense, but rare, flashes of lightning.
I look at the people on the opposite side, driving
Out of the pleasant day and into the maw of the storm.
I feel sorry for them, wondering why they chose that path.
Ahead the road curves, throwing me into limbo.
To the right is the bright, clear day,
To the left is the angry, black storm.
I'm balanced between them, high wire, no net.
They pull at me with wind, whippin
Across the horizon a brief, bright burst of lightning heralded the coming storm. Jason knew he should head back home, but he figured just a few more miles couldn't hurt. He pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor and his car jumped onto the onramp. He had just turned 16, and while his car wouldn't win any beauty pageants, he still felt very proud of it. He named it Shelly, to the rampant amusement of his friends.
The wind began to howl as he finally decided to turn back for home. Another flash of lightning revealed the wet road ahead of him. His headlights picking up the dashed white line as luminescent bursts of white again
Green grass flooding, blue skies too, and the grey clouds come alive
we're helped by our "allies", but the bad guys sit and hide.
Build a bomb in Bangladesh, and ship it to Beirut
by the time somebody figures out, there won't be time to shoot.
Our terror level won't go up, 'cuz the plans aren't decades old
the "leadership" won't know a thing, and the people won't be told.
The only way to win this "war", and help to save the Earth
is to stop and try to figure out, why do they hate us first.
After that we need to change and respect all ways of life
help the poor and destitute, and minimize their strife.
Respect all cultures, big and s
Current Residence: Appleton, WI Favourite genre of music: anything but country and rap Operating System: Windows 7 MP3 player of choice: Winamp Shell of choice: Conch Favourite cartoon character: Stewie Personal Quote: "And most of all, my God, how does she make her eyes do that?"
Favourite Movies
Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind and High Fidelity
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Blues Traveler & various others as my mood allows
Favourite Writers
currently: Terry Pratchett
Favourite Games
Life (not the board game..or the cereal for that matter)
Tools of the Trade
My mind
Other Interests
anything and everything...except that, that's gross
I would like to read more of your work, but seeing as they are very long, I do not have the time to read much more tonight. Though I do believe I will begin watching you, to see more in the future, and as a quick link to your other works.
I don't draw...I paint pictures in others' minds with my mad word spinning skillz..yeah, I think that's how I'm supposed to say it now-a-days. You know, girls only want guys with skillz.