Das Schönste am Altbekannten
ist das Neuentdecken.
+++Europäische Geschichte+++ by fantom125
+ + + 1871 + + + 1914 + + + 1939 + + + 1953 + + + 1968 + + + 1992 + + + 1998 + + + 2014 + + +
Da ist endlich Gras über die
das kommt schon wieder
so'n Panzer daher ...
this is Fan Tom calling. I'm here to see some talents of the world and to show the world some talents of me. I'm curious for your work, your interests and your critics, and wanna show some of my works which is mostly photography, but sometimes literatures too!-)
Hope you enjoy it! I do.
Thank you so much,
Fan Tom, Phantom !-)
Current Residence: Dresden, Saxony, Germany, Europe, Earth
Favourite cartoon character: Fred Flintstone
ErneutLiebe mich wie eine Farbe
male mich auf deine Haut
wo auf meiner deine Seele
sich ein buntes Schloss erbaut
Liebe mich wie eine Waffe
liebe mich wie ein Gedicht
wie ich Narben hinterlasse
zeichne mich auf dein Gesicht
Liebe mich wie ein Verräter
hast den Schmerz ja nie gescheut
richte mich mit Worten hin
dann beginnen wir erneut
A Saga of CerealLet us sing of Albert Braithwaite and his quest! His voyage to the supermarket! His mission to buy cornflakes!
And so he approached the supermarket and gained entrance.
Everywhere there were temptations that sang to him. But his wisdom was strong. Do not look directly at the showy sirens who would take your gold. Rather look down towards the own brand items. For they are better value.
He travelled on.
In his path were clusters of creatures with tongues to talk, but neither eyes nor ears to perceive him. His many requests of “Excuse me, please. I’d quite like to get through” went unheeded.
Temporarily defeated, he retreated and found another way through the maze.
But the glamour was becoming stronger. He felt his reason starting to leave him. Taking shelter by the cheese and onion crisps, he produced pen and ink and captured the words as they floated from his mind.
And lo! Albert strode forward, looking neither to the left or right, but keeping his path straight and tr
Stone Age Zombie Apocalypse Gorg not move three days. I count to make sure. Sun up, sun down. Gorg not move. Sun up, sun down. Gorg still not move. Sun up, sun down. Gorg not move at all.
We call him dead and dig hole for him. It seem right. No animals eat Gorg. We think Gorg like that.
We bury Gorg. We move on. Gotta stay close to mammoth herd. We need food. Pretty sure Gorg understand. He dead, after all.
But then strange thing happen.
Hot times come. Cold times come. Hot times come back.
Gorg comes back.
Not sure what happened. Was it prank? Gorg not funny before he dead. Mostly Gorg yell and hit things. Good hunter, Gorg.
But now Gorg kinda funny. He not hunt mammoth. He kill Rahg first night back. Then Rahg get up. He help Gorg kill others.
I too scared to fight. I run instead. They chase after me.
They strange now. They no get tired. They no need eat. Except eat people.
Gone Is GoneOnce upon a time,
The start of a fairy tale,
Happily ever after,
Should be the summative.
The toad was but a toad,
The tale a moralled fable,
The lesson being,
The end is not yet written.
Happily at this moment,
Throw the toad to the pond,
What is gone is gone,
Once upon a time.
SchreibenSchreiben ist Licht
Spur des Einsamen
Wind und Harfe
und des Mondes
gelesen zu sein
gelesen zu sein...
...former employee Kevin Prometheus insisted that the software had never belonged to MountOlympus, and that the company had illegally claimed ownership.
“It was developed with the intention of being free and for the good of humanity,” he declared earlier today. “That’s why I decided to make it available to everyone. It was time to stand up to them.”
MountOlympus maintains that it was within its rights to refuse free access to the software and demands that Prometheus be prosecuted.
Sky Lord @_thun_da_bolt
@_prometheus_k How brave...
Sky Lord @_thun_da_bolt
@_prometheus_k Hope you thought it was worth it—taking on a big company like that.
Sky Lord @_thun_da_bolt
@_prometheus_k Because those who play with fire get burnt.
Kevin Prometheus @_prometheus_k
Had enough of attacks by ‘company supporters’. Not going to be around for a while.
“Hello, my name is Dr. Asclepius.
Tip of My TongueAlison had been wrong in thinking she wouldn’t know anyone at the party. She was barely through the door when she spotted an old school acquaintance, someone she hadn’t seen in over twenty years.
She gave him an enthusiastic wave. The man looked at her in bemusement and Alison hurried across.
She came to a dead stop. What the heck was the bloke’s name? She frowned. Probably best to try and dig it out before going any further or this could get embarrassing.
Alison gestured vaguely at the stairs. “I’m just going to…”
The man nodded, looking even more bewildered, and Alison scampered away.
She shot up the stairs, found an empty bedroom, climbed out the window and down a drainpipe, and then sprinted off in the direction of the Misplaced Vocabulary Office.
The attendant frowned at her as she dashed in. “I’m just about to close up, you know.”
Alison put her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
Beloved Friend (Poem)Beloved Friend
A wide frozen lake that I'm observing.
Tears slowly sliding down my mottled skin.
I can't find the words, thus let a deep moan
Replace shamelessly what is left untold.
A warm and gentle breath spreads into the night,
Softly touches my neck, caressing it right
At the same moment her arms embrace me.
Oh beloved friend, forget what you see.
She looks at me, silent, letting the wind speak,
Murmuring words of love. Agonising hint,
Hissing at my ears, assuring I'm weak.
Her eyes, beautiful; might her heart be flint?
With my chapped lips, I draw a tender path
On her fragile face. “How gorgeous!”, I gasp.
My fingers on her hand, gently moving when
Time suddenly stops; shall everything end.
Beloved friend, I'm watching you disappear,
Taken away by this snow storm. While I fear
That my heart should bleed and my tears should fall
From now, endlessly or until Death's call.
This poem was originally written in French. Here it is :
Un grand lac gel&