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Harmonious_Echos

Emergency Surrealist System Check

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*game; for the dispelling of depression, anxiety, and other such cobwebs of the mind. Write something, anything, poem, note, anecdote, must include the three words at the bottom of the last post. Then post your own 3 words.

 

 

Lightbulb Bicycle Goldfish.

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"I dunno cousin, it looks like a unicycle to me. . ."

 

"That's 'cause the second wheel gotta be mounted horizontally so it gets the gyro motion goin'!"

 

"Ohhh. . ." Asmadeus nodnodnodded an' gave the heavy horizontal rim a push. The 'bicycle' wheel touching the ground wobbled madly to and fro encircling it all, and the illuminated flag of the Gnomish Empire whipped overhead on its long springy stalk, but not a drop of water slopped from the top of the bowl.

 

Meanwhile Minta hopped in Asma's interpretation an' pedaled the pedals as pugnaciously as possible. The ironclad paddleboat slewed around in the lake of Ak'Anon, while pairs of goldfish mounted at front and rear swam around their little bowls pushing paddlewheels of their own, charging capacitators and illuminating lightbulbs.

 

Their toolkits tipped over on the shore, spilling out. . .

 

chicken wire, velvet, stopwatch.

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Dressed in a velvet gown of white, she enters the ballroom. Not knowing that it was a trap! Chicken wire fell from above! Somewhere, in another part of the house she heard the ticking of a stopwatch. "I don't have all day Mr. Sanders, when will this new meal of yours be ready."

"That is colonel to you yank! And I just needen my ingredients....

 

 

thyme, spice, zest.

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"This Thyme, Zest, I'm gonna have your top!" yelled Pumpkin Spice from the Upper Rack. She'd had enough of Zest dumping Pepper over whenever she went out for a sprinkle.

 

 

Lemon balm, rain, astrophysics

Edited by Harmony

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The rain had been bitterly cold, and she found herself warming her feet in a bucket of hot water mixed with lemon balm.

The balm had been a gift she did not know what to do with, left on her doorstep by who knew who. It might almost have been flattering to have a secret admirer if it weren't so worrying; all the more so because it was a complication she did not need so soon after the stress of travel, preparation and presentation at the recent astrophysics conference.

Discarding the thought, she turned her mind to simpler, happier days of bright sunlight and idle chatter.

 

Orange, drinkbottle, thorough.

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The drink-bottle was empty of faerie wine '69,

That famed brew, bad for you, drunk to last drop.

It wasn't orange, it wasn't silver; it's flavor didn't rhyme,

It dissolved goblets in fuming clouds sitting on the bar.

 

A very upper-class high-brow elixir with quite a kick,

It is hardly thorough, quite expensive in cost - definitely not rural.

I paid a fortune for one drink-bottle (it was all I could afford),

I took a sip, I took a gulp, I thought "oh my lord!"

My arse is bleeding, my eyes popped out - they rolled upon the floor -

They' ve leapt back into my head, and now I'm stumbling out the door.

 

My drink-bottle's empty of faerie wine '69,

I'll drink it no more.

 

twitch, four, fish

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Quills, iron and raw fish, four dozen pike staves and many nails,

A quartermaster's work is never done.

I see him handle surprises with not even a twitch; broken cart wheels, recent arrivals, raised prices and news of distant events.

And this man, this epitome of competence, is my enemy. I must tread carefully if I am to make progress.

 

Unknown, present, tread.

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Thick boots tread heavily on the rain-damp earth, marking his progress as the young man stumped up the hill. "Glad I left these clothes bagged" he thought, shrugging into the flannel shirt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made a time-jump to this present, and the warp destinations were never very precise. He wished he could figure out a way to warp with his clothes on; it could turn nasty when he unintentionally warped in public...

 

(this was very obviously taken from the movie the Time Travellers' Wife, and I apologize--I couldn't think of anything better on the spur of the moment)

 

Celery, propane, window pane

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As the 'celery" is snapped and chopped and added to the roiling boil of stew upon the ancient, rickety 'propane' stove. The Elder is asking the Council to decide on a punishment for Garl, whose improper actions with the Whittenden Clan Head's eldest daughter. It seems he spent many days (or perhaps nights is more appropriate) following and stalking the young woman. He would likely have continued his misbehavior, had he not been caught, red-handed, peering in her 'window pane' very early one morning, apparently watching her sleep.

 

The Council is full of men with rumbling stomachs, and the Elder decides to wait to continue the meeting until the stew is finished and doled out to each in his or her turn, according to rank within the Village.

 

 

dollop beer influential

Edited by GeldrinHor

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A dollop of green,

And a splotch of red.

Blue splattered between,

Jusht slike thissh,” she said.

 

A swig and a gulp,

Too gone to keep track.

Color dripping pulp,

A blurrrry attack.

 

Beer, saké, or wine?

Inconsequential.

The alcohol? Fine,

Now that’s influential.

 

____________________________

 

alchemy, sensual, fractal

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The lazy spirals of the incense were memories,

The red tips smug eyes now.

The moonlight kissed flesh that never glimpsed sun -

Intertwined, inseparably, drying sweat initiating sensual shivers.

The silver-yellow made fractal rainbows inside the curtain of crystal beads.

A sudden shiver, a murmur, a lazy kiss, and by the ancient alchemy of lusts

Tumescent rises from slumber and the dance begins again.

The moon smiles slyly, never surprised.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------

 

foolish, smile, defenestrated

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We wake to a smile of sunshine,

Our hearts are light and gay,

But the bottom of a multi-paned wall,

Defenstrated our joyous spray.

 

We wish that wisdom came early,

For the Elders can't always admit,

The foolish come home from a ball game,

Then to others, less talented, submit!

 

Oh to be one with Nature, our souls,

Have given great harmony bound,

But to trees that have grown tall and powerful,

We hear nary a whisper of sound.

 

_____________

pickled : motor scooter : Hopscotch

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Little Anne loved hopscotch. He brother told her she was dumb, to like such an old-fashioned game, but she loved it anyway. It was just hopping and counting; it was so simple! Not like riding her motor scooter. She'd had enough of trying to make that dumb thing work. Right now it was laying on its side in the garage, pickled in its nasty-smelling oils & fluids that had seeped out after she'd crashed it into the wall. Yes--she definitely thought it best to leave it alone.

 

 

 

Cloud, Gremlin, Prestidigitary

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