Peredhil

Huh. that would make interesting research. I'd like to read the results of that.

The scientist-priests of society, who explain the forces that move through humanity in terms that reduce and reassure, tell us that all energy is a vibration. Our senses are detectors, that decode particular frequencies of vibrations. So the skin detects infrared, while the ear decodes the vibrations we call sound, and the eyes decode the frequencies we call sight. It is not that way in all creatures, for instance, the common Honey Bee is blind to the color red, seeing it as black, but in turn sees the wonders of ultra-violet that we cannot. In the Land of Listeners, there was a very peculiar adaptation unique to them. They had another organ of perception. Not an ear, or an eye, but something else. Let's call it an eyear. With their eyes they could see body language and with their ears they could hear the tones of a voice, but the eyear let them hear the special metalanguage that surrounds our normal human communications. It decoded the body language's nuances and the intonations of voice and precisely identified whether the person was being sarcastic, or loving, or lying, or genuine. Was that hug lustful or comforting? The eyear removed all doubt. It was as if all people spoke the language of the other lands around them, but at the same time, communicated in a rich, vibrant language of all their own, all at the same time. Pity the poor person who entered the Land of the Listeners from any other land. They constantly spoke in ways that miscommunicated and confused the Listeners, their spoken words at variance with their metalanguage. Their lips said, "yes" while their eyes screamed "no no no", for example. Oh, they tried, and if they lived there long enough, they developed some facility, as a deaf person can mimic the inflection and enunciation of speech, and yet... Can you picture the both sides, struggling to communicate? The confusions, the misunderstandings? The poor Tourist constantly confused because what they said was being taken by the Listeners in all the wrong ways, deaf to their own metalanguage, while the Listeners, acutely social, had trouble accepting that the Tourist really could be so *stupid* or rude or crass. "Really. I mean to say, I know they don't have an eyear but they do have eyes and do have ears and surely they can understand why you don't tell THAT joke in front of my GRANDMOTHER. It was like a person with no nose farting in public continually and unaware it could be offensive! There is a time and place that even a Tourist should know!" Even the educated Listeners had trouble truly understand what it felt like to be a Tourist, and the Tourist always felt how alien they were to the Listener's society. Can you understand both sides yet? Having the form of autism to lesser or greater degree that our scientist-priests label "Asperger's Syndrome" is like being a Tourist in a land of Listeners. Well, no, it isn't really, but for purposes of understanding, perhaps you'll accept this parable instead of the inexpressible truth?

How refreshingly fun. I like your whimsical yet melodic style here. This was fun to read aloud, like some Dr. Seuss are.

I really like this. Thank you.

Scary.

ooooh, companion piece, entwined fraternal twinned poems. I like it! The other depressed me, the anger in this one is easier to bear. something psychological about me there... "She still wears that agony line on her face", I like the figure of speech in this line. evocative of memories. Which of y'all will write the third poem of the set, from his point of view?

depressing read, but I like poems that tell a story. good to see you posting poetry.

(Happy birthday Yui-chan!!! I hope some day we'll write together again.))

you draw so much better than I that it sit here in silent respect. wow. Polite Huggles

Snypiuer - there isn't anything original, it all draws on our common perception of "reality" if nothing else. The delight is seeing how someone else views the same chair, person, whatever, and how they choose to share it. Please! Don't be discouraged. I, for one, am really looking forward to reading how YOU choose to present your perceptions. You've been the catalyst for this, the spark plug that has excited the imaginations. Claim victory! Polite hugs of affirmation and support

Home

Just found this. I think it counts as brilliant, for the ability to bring back a multisensory memory I rather not remember...

ouch!

Hammerzeit!

When a puppet's strings are broken, What to do? What to do? Crawl if it can. Writhe if it must. Roll like a tube that's flattened a bit. Inch with dug teeth and nails, scraping digits and toes. Rumble ᅟTumble ᅟᅟDown ᅟᅟᅟStairs ᅟᅟᅟᅟIs ᅟᅟᅟᅟᅟEasier. Ooze like slowly drying blood. Knotty strings to constrict another for a ride. But there are always trailing broken strings, ᅟᅟᅟᅟExcuses. Though determination is the motive power, No failure is defeat: That only comes if ᅟᅟᅟYou ᅟᅟJust ᅟGive Up.

choo-choo

Dine

feel free to use my crowd

Awww, she is just cuter than a bug. And fun too. Added her as my Myspace friend. =)

oooh! thank you. sounds like something I'd like. *goes to check out her music.*

Stale! Welcome back. Hugs Politely

I give good hugs. hugs that reassure and love and help people feel safe. I'd hug until someone who wasn't touchy stabbed me in the stomach, eviscerating me, and ended the hugging spree.

Makes me think there is music to make this a song. Good meter and great imagery.

a-HA! Size does matter! I've long suspected it...

*blush* I'm so glad you said something about this; I'd forgotten I wrote it at a dead run, wishin' to get it down before it fled my head. Fixed the worst of the spelling and grammar. Saw a trick shoot holding his rifle barrel pointing to the dirt, talking to the audience. He turned and the barrel came up as his hand was the fulcrum and he fired it, bam bam, and two cans went flying. I guess the sight stuck with me.