This XML file does not appear to have any style information associated with it. The document tree is shown below.
<livejournal>
<entry>
<itemid>154733</itemid>
<eventtime>2013-09-07 21:17:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2013-09-08 01:17:04</logtime>
<subject>My North Star</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other I am in the present, Caught at the end of a desert of unemployment. I am in the past, Just driving furiously east to a hopeful job at Coca Cola I am in the future, Telling myself it will work out. Present self Gives past self assurances Look to the heavens Out there in the glorious hills of North Dakota At night Under the stars As you drive through the echoes of Wounded Knee Tragedy of the past below Inspiration for you above There is something worth coming back for And her name is Julia. Future self assures me In the warm smiles And the flashing heart The dancing eyes The dimples and embrace Of my Beloved Believing in me Always. Always. Always. Graced I am With a veritable constellation of friends, loved ones and family All guiding my way towards a better future But center in the eye of the Hunter's moon Upon which I began my quest so long ago Present self sings songs of love to past self Future self sings songs of joy And hope And Present self has the advantage That I have heard them with the ears of the flesh And I know these things are true For the love is real And she is real So drive on rider Drive on. East is north And north is sure and true.
</event>
<security>public</security>
<allowmask>0</allowmask>
</entry>
<entry>
<itemid>154985</itemid>
<eventtime>2013-09-14 00:23:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2013-09-14 04:23:15</logtime>
<subject>Antibiotic Quantum Resistance</subject>
<event>
By Emmit Other The fundamental ashes Rebirth, redeath, rebirth The quantum foam consumed Ever growing maw at the heart of all things Even stars die That seeming unending vitality of life In spring seems unending Chasms of fearsome dimensions Crossed one grain of sand at a time Suddenly tiny puddles by comparison But there is an underlying theater to it all The space bent by Gravity's will The celestial chorus around me The drums the drums the drums A thousand righteous fools Throwing off the chains of entropy Celebrating life itself The dance is all there is And even those on the edge Those in the shadows Move and sway to that primal rhythm that is life The music sways The ritual burns And the sun is born anew But my heart is black And my soul is char No egg of flying mythology Stirs in me this eve There are sands Circling round the nether eschelon Of my hourglass fixed in Heaven's unyielding stare But old tricks and treasures Shall not a star birth this night Not for me Not tonight Move along sir Move along There is no mana here See it Taste it Touch it But not a whit Not a jot Will it for thee sing. Fare thee well celebrants Birth thy dreams in revels Beat and tambor and sway Make the magic happen somewhere But alas I cannot stay.
</event>
<security>public</security>
<allowmask>0</allowmask>
</entry>
<entry>
<itemid>155185</itemid>
<eventtime>2013-09-20 18:34:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2013-09-20 22:34:59</logtime>
<subject>
Inspirational Counterpoint of the Surrealism of the Underlying Metaphor
</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other Full Solophist hadn't really been the same since the crash He'd been late for his latest signing And the trains had stopped working. Members of the Masked Hoard Running through the streets Bashing the old, the young and the weak with sticks Shooting those who dared challenge them. Now he walked with his first edition "Ode To Things I Believe And Damn The Consequences" Filling the holes of his soles His suit had been worn down slightly As he ran from the latest pogrom. Eventually he ended up in Free Town. That last bastion of reality The wall stood firm The hoards tried by hook or by crook to bring it down. The town liked Full And put him in charge of the weekly book club. Life of some semblance had to go on Even if those outside Were trying to kill every single one of them. Full was mildly put out When Bo (Who was admittedly a bit of a dick) Cancelled the weekly book club meeting To discuss defense of the wall From the atomic battering ram The hoard had just created. The plans were drawn Every man, woman and child took up whatever they could Hoping to defend themselves But Full was sipping a glass of Chardonnay '49 That he had salvaged from the dead man Down I85 on his way to Free Town. The hoard attacked Beneath the glittering full moon His moon How bright it was How cherry red <------------------Note the more consistent use of imagery!!! It was at the blood red Spray of mist The Hockey Mask mom made With her ice skate Katana As it beheaded the kindergartners five feet away from him. The wall fell And Full was the last inhabitant of Free Town standing. His lasts words were As they proceeded to eat him alive "I think that your performance was rather amusing But you really should have tried a bit more Meisner As you tore the heads off the screaming children." He tasted good with Ketchup.
</event>
<security>public</security>
<allowmask>0</allowmask>
</entry>
</livejournal>
No comments:
Post a Comment