explosivelimes » Stories

Just a Bit of Silliness Really

explosive — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 05:15:45 +0000

It is a very large tree. The bright pale moon in the sky overhead is completely obscured by the thick and massive branches. It is dark. The bark had been blackened by fire long ago. It had been many years since leaves had grown on this tree’s now barren and twisted branches. The tree loomed on the top of the highest hill in town. A town that once thrived beneath the shelter that the once lush and living tree provided now lies in ruin. At the foot of the hill only a few disheveled huts lay scattered across the landscape.

A Bit Of Silliness Really

explosive — Tue, 27 Nov 2007 18:22:53 +0000

Once upon a twilight mist
when all the aged served a dish
I sat beside my greatest fear
and listened close as it came near

Once upon a morning dark
when all men wandered in the park
I sat inside my little shell
and listened hard, I listened well

Once upon an evening bright
when all men had seen the light
I sat alone in darkness still
and listened by a window sill

Once upon a moonlit day
when all else had passed away
I sat between two monstrous toads
and listened while this story told

(repeat as desired)

Moments of Magic

explosive — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 04:53:10 +0000

Lyrics?

explosive — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 03:40:24 +0000

So I’ve been hanging out at Starbucks the past couple of nights, even when I’m not working. For the most part I was trying to get into a place that’s different, or inspiring. There are a couple of song lyrics I wrote, and as of yet I haven’t been able to put to music. Usually the process of writing songs begins with a tune on the guitar. I find it incredibly difficult to begin the other way around, but I really think these are some of the most creative words intended as songs I’ve written. Anyway. Enjoy!

Nothing More

never see the light of day so stay inside the way your eyes look tonight come and see me please don’t let me be the one and only reason you live without a love and care so stare me down your frown abounds because you care too much to touch this soul control the things you need to take and fake your way to the top don’t stop and think about the hurt you feel be real don’t hide behind lies that try to bring you down again.

Sit still and feel this is real so real. Breathe in and laugh relax stand back. Reach out spread life end strife. This. This is nothing more than love’s attempt to speak.

windows explode reveal the whole how worlds collide oh my they die within they’re dancing prancing like the stars go far and reach beyond they long to hold your outstretched hand understanding nothing but what’s left not right they might be there not fair for you or me to be and bring you down again.

Sit still and feel this is real so real. Breathe in and laugh relax stand back. Reach out spread life end strife. This is love. Nothing more than love. Let it speak.

Sound

explosive — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 04:47:16 +0000

I had this idea the other day when I was doodling this; how cool would it be to write an entire book like this? My second thought was; do you know how long it would take to write an entire book like this?

Just Silly

explosive — Sun, 30 Sep 2007 04:46:17 +0000

A young boy who lived with aborigines jumped high in the air with the greatest of ease.

He knew that his knees would buckle under the pressure of approaching oak trees.

But then all of a sudden up blew a cool breeze that as luck would have it gave him allergies.

He let out a sneeze which propelled him to safety in a pile of leaves.

The boy was relieved.

More Poems

explosive — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 21:06:01 +0000

A young boy was sitting, a sitting one day.
A young girl passed by and said, “Hey! Wanna play?”
So they jumped on the swing set and swung to and fro.
Before too long the young boy had to go.
“Thank you.” He said, and smiled a big smile.
“I’ve got to go home. I’ll be gone for a while.”
Then off like a shot he flew up in the sky!
The young girl was sad, ’cause he never said “Bye.”

–

One day a ninja was out hunting prey.
His black suit was hot in the middle of the day.
So he slipped in the stream to cool himself down.
But when he got out, he looked all around.
The village had crowded ’round every side.
‘Cause he wasn’t careful the poor ninja . . . was emberrased.

The moral is children, to take special care.
If you are a ninja, always beware.

Same villagers may sneak up on you one day,
but a few ninja stars will sure scare them away.

Probably.

–

There once was a clumsy young lady.
Who always fell over daily.
She fell on her face,
but did so with such grace,
it was like a ballet with arms flailing.

Poems

explosive — Sat, 08 Sep 2007 02:06:55 +0000

It’s been kind of a slow day today. I’m sick with a sore throat and runny nose. Yippie!! Here are a couple of short story slash poems I wrote. Enjoy!

Once upon a time there was a strange little man.
This strange little man had a weird looking hat.
He took off his hat to scratch his odd looking head,
then went off to sleep in his bizarre looking bed.
The end.

Once upon a time a cool tune was played.
It rang through the land all night and all day.
One morning a farmer heard the sweet song.
He up and ran off and was gone for too long.
His horses all cried, and the sheep were not fed.
Since he never came back they all wound up dead.
The end.

Poor, Poor Man From The Hill

explosive — Tue, 31 Jul 2007 13:50:39 +0000

Remember this post? :)

This was a collaborative effort between me and my brother Craig. Enjoy!

The Creativity Tree

explosive — Fri, 20 Jul 2007 04:39:40 +0000

Once upon a time there was a seed. It grew to become the most grand tree in the whole forest. The tree’s name was, Creativity.

One look upon it’s crusty bark and gnarled roots would inspire you to run away screaming into the night. (Later to be devoured by wolves because we all know how foolish it is to run screaming into the night in a forest.)

One taste of it’s sap would send creative juices surging throughout your body. (Or maybe what you felt was poison oak clogging your innards.)

Stand strong Creativity. May your Earthy roots never dry up and shrivel to become the catalyst of yet another creative forest fire.