Dysl3xiA +revisited+worDs f
linto worDs BackwarDs
fliPPinG meaninG and floPPinG
linG into a puDDle on the PaGe
inDiviDually,, losing lttrs
as they move
lines and Phrases mix
creatinG a somethinG
Nihongo in JapaneseNihongo in Japanese
It's nihongo in Japanese
Where writing is in the mouth
And English gets omitted
While listening comes from the page
Where writing is the mouth,
Speaking is incomprehensible
While listening's on the page
Written over by wordy pictures
Speaking the incomprehensible,
Sense is made from nonsense
Written over in wordy pictures
Filling the air with untold ink
Still making sense from nonsense,
Mouths just bubble on,
Filling the air with once told ink
Written from a backwards mirror
Mouths keep bubbling on
Hearing the unspoken text
Writing in a backwards mirror
A voice scribbles words on the air
Seeing the unwritten text
From which English is omitted;
A voice scribbled words in the air:
It's Nihongo in japanese.
Congratulations, we are...Congratulations,
We are a community
Where nobody buys just one.
We have the latest models in all the colors.
There may never have been
A better time to buy.
We've done the math!
First catch of the season.
Make smiles happen
At a fraction of the price.
The best gift this year...
Drink up; these values are refreshing.
The products you use most
For less, every day!
Family fun packs are totally affordable!
Our prices will please you.
Our service will impress you.
Dare to compare.
Goodbye creative freedom,
Hello Beaten Path.
Everything must be
smooth, clear, haunting;
Don't expect changes--
We sealed out the ingredients for life.
Turn out the lights,
The Boss of You.
Drag me to Hell.
Hopelessly Yearning For You Airu Hikkaru sighed, staring across the class room at the object of his affection: Colin Rights, the young American exchange student who's popularity rocketed through the roof on his first day. He was a social butterfly, everyone in the class knew him well. He was easy to spot in a crowd too; if he wasn't surrounded be a group of excited students, then his hair stuck out like a beacon. Blond among a sea of black. His hair wasn't the black-bleached-into-blond that so many girls wore, it was the real thing. A rare hair color in Japan. Of course, everything about Colin was rare from the clothes he wore to the words he used when he spoke.
Airu sighed again, wishing that such a perfect being cold be his; but it could never be. He had never spoken to the exotic youth, had never drawn his eyes, his name probably wasn't even known to Colin let alone his existence. What hurt more than that thou
Should Have Seen Him Coming Dark passages stretched out in all directions on the TV screen wall. Kei smirked as he reviewed the tenth floor security camera tapes; no sign of his entry. Too bad the cameras werent set up better; they might have seen him coming.
Every department store hed robbed lately had the same problem: too many blind spots in their surveillance. Such a travesty made him want to go into the security field himself just to set up a challenging system, one that hed spend more than ten minutes figuring out a way past. He wanted one that forced him to delve into his bag of tricks instead of simply mapping out a safe rout with no cameras.
The night guard on the floor behind him groaned, regaining consciousness. It took her long enough Kei quickly fastened his famous white mask over his blue eyes and turned to the bound burnet behi
Searching for You //Too many 'to be' verbs... Third sentence in a row starting with 'It'... Same adjective used three times in one paragraph... Pretty good plot, though... Nice character development.... Maybe this Shireese is worth supporting through to publication, with some work...//
I glanced up from the manuscript in my lap to stare across the table at Miko. He looked exceptionally beautiful, clad in a simple light blue tank top and jeans -his usual attire- but today he let his hair down. I stared for a while, eyes tracing the way those long silky black strands fell about his golden skin and over his slanted eyes, finally responding with a witty "Hm?"
"Well, are you going to eat your pastry?" he asked, his own pastry half on his face and half still in tact on the plate in fr
Star Gazing Silence drifted on the warm breeze, disturbed ever so slightly by the gentle rustling of leaves. The meadow stood empty, save for the small duck family floating in a pond near the center. Cain's eyes scanned the green grassland before him anxiously for any sign of a person. Properly satisfied that he was alone, he settled himself into the grass beside the small water hole. He hardly ever had any time to himself, and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. His father's servants never gave him any peace. Though he didn't mind the women, sometimes it grew tiresome to have so many chittering females about all at once.
He sighed and flopped backward to look at the sky. It was beautiful hazy dusky blue, a sign that the sun would be gone soon.
Summer. His favorite season. He loved their warmth, the animals that pl
Waiting Patiently for You... Upbeat party pop poured out of the cafe jukebox; not many of these ancient music devices existed in public domains nowadays, but nobody minded when they were there. Well, almost nobody. Across the room, sitting in the only occupied red booth seat sat Samuel Thither fidgeting away. His lunch date was running late -a whipping thirty minutes- and the song filling hid ears only made the thoughts playing through his mind all the more difficult to ignore.
Who writes songs about avoiding people anyway? He pondered miserably, trying to focus on the drink menu still held in his hands.
The green haired waitress kept stopping by periodically to see if he was ready to order, emphasizing to him that she had other customers to cater.
I must look like I'm loitering or something... One trembling hand straye
In the School After Hours Beautiful ballroom music floated down the empty halls of the school as though ushered by a ghost. No one stood around in the halls to listen to the music; there was no one around to hear it. School had called out hours ago, and the students had all gone home. By now, even the teachers had made their way out of the establishment. Those that still inhabited the school were the janitors, and the owner of the mysterious music filling the nights silence. To any passer-by, the music could presumably have originated from the janitors growing weary of the eerie noiseless air they worked in night after night, but to a certain student hidden in his English teachers classroom, the music was his escape from the world. He sat erect in a generic plastic chair, arms holding a silver flute poised to his lips. Slender fingers played across the many keys in time with the music flowing from the CD-stereo on the desk beside him. The shrill