tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75184013485330572712012-02-16T02:03:59.905-08:00GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.comBlogger131100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-58287239578793023332008-06-17T01:51:00.000-07:002008-06-17T04:09:36.431-07:00

Whispers and torturesLingering sadnessIn a deep brown, a lureA nervous deceptionHesitant touchAnd mutual perceptionThis treachery feels pureThe path of enigmaQuestions unansweredAn outcome unsureDelectable passionsAll too muchYet in our fashionWe are causeAnd cure

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-71154344772710118452008-06-17T01:50:00.000-07:002008-06-17T04:08:55.512-07:00

There was a wish that floated around the thoughts of Ryzar. Fuelled by a fairytale and undying hope. He had reached the lowest rock which had no way of being crawled under so he let his mind go in to defining ideals. Short fantasies where triggered by an image of beauty, letting him escape from the gloom that was the make up of his existence. He held a photograph between trembling fingers and

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Neither pride nor shame motivated the murderer to voice his deeds. He wanted the world to understand the motives and to find at least one person who would care for him in his entirety. His acts had followed necessity but he had fallen short of the count. Four lives taken to save one. That was the deal but he had only taken three. So the one he had willed to save had perished as if to even a

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-8349519320864951482008-06-17T01:46:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:48:20.477-07:00

He walked through the hidden garden at dusk clipping a different flower from each bed. His prying eyes judged on shape alone as all colour was lost with the rising moon. His silent pace mingled with the shadows as he searched for symbols of sensuality and love. Petals were folded upon themselves, protecting from the darkening sky what they so openly offered to a glorious sun. Their velvet texture

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-81632386168463454642008-06-17T01:43:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:45:40.226-07:00

At first view the star was invisible. He shook the picture dry then placed it in his inside pocket where it would stay for the weeks ahead. Always close to his heart when the weather was wet and cold.One evening he sat on his bed writing when the need to view a dream overwhelmed him. He got up and fished out the photo. Gazing at it as he lay it on the bed next to his notebook. Laying down on the

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The message said: The future is bright. An opportunity wrapped in love is waiting for you on distant shores. Ryzar's dreams were touching real. The heart had taken him to where he wanted to be. The disappointments of life were fading, the Sun was rising as were the eyebrows of his enemies. A promise was made and the cogs of a new life rolled in to motion and thus they all believed for a while

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I heard the voice of reason wondering if you will ever rise from your slumber. Thinking back to the incident and trying to fill that void in your mind. Maybe you took a blow to the head and your friends are gathered around a hospital bed where you lay, holding your hand. That could be why the inexplicable happens around you on a daily basis. All those events that defy logic could be seeping in to

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-57771412696306979852008-06-17T01:37:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:39:36.528-07:00

He ventured on to the web not knowing if he was spider or prey. Step by step he discovered that he could be either or he could be both. The world became smaller with each step yet any understanding of purpose still seemed to elude him. New friendships were seeded and old foes rediscovered all in preparation for his return to the birthplace. Blood had made contact and had bid his presence but he

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-20570049503730732412008-06-17T01:35:00.000-07:002008-06-18T11:56:06.324-07:00

Blood ties can make you belong or rip your soul apart. We are simply educated that blood is thicker than water. Then we find that water is life and life is what is most precious. We see the world and shrink in fear as it seems so alien to our beliefs yet we are part of it all. Poverty and injustice define our right from wrong. Happiness is defined by a smile and a Hollywood moment. We fight with

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-68854340144539552372008-06-17T01:32:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:35:33.661-07:00

Ryzar's mother was finishing her days in a mental institution where she spent her time talking about working for her father. In between folding pieces of paper in to a small phallus and manically flapping her legs open and shut she would describe the back room where she learned her trade. The room contained one bed, one bedside table and a jar of condoms (she liked to call it the killing jar).

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-2171598465301018762008-06-17T01:31:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:32:34.756-07:00

The phone rang at midnight. Ryzar looked at it but didn't answer. It was probably a married woman in a middle age crisis or an old flame wanting a new spark. Either way he preferred to ignore the call. He was plugged in to a machine, searching for a soul and a remedy for pain. The phone stopped ringing and he started to wonder who it was, if he should of answered, maybe it was the call he had

GeoSolushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16552402735929569531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7518401348533057271.post-8727177279876959262008-06-17T01:28:00.000-07:002008-06-17T01:30:44.960-07:00

In this place even the butterfly is a blade. The sweetest thought is dressed in violence, blood lust is formed in infancy and the end is always a reason to wipe everything out. Hope circles survival as each and every one runs on instinct. The moral code is a variable and every thought pivots on the elimination of the other.In this place peace cannot exist without war. Hate is defined as a form of

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The lights dipped, the curtain rose and a fluffy white rabbit hopped across the stage as curses and a top hat came from the wing. An old lady ran on to the planks fetching the hat as she pursued the rodent, then both disappeared behind the curtain. Laughter prevailed the empty stage then rumbled down to a male squeak near the back row. There were a few seconds of silence before the magician made

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