IndyGreen_Off_The_Wall

One morning I was riding my bicycle
in the country, I stopped on a bridge
over a small creek, to pee.
The noise made this giant..I mean giant
Great Horned Owl fly from under the
bridge and land on a limb not thirty feet
away.
This was the largest bird of prey I had
ever seen in the wild, he must have
been 3 feet tall.
He landed with his back to me and
turned his head all the way around and
looked at me like...you bastard.. You
just spoiled my dinner.
It was just after sunrise and I guess he
was waiting for some unsuspecting
animal to come to the creek for a drink,
then WHAM, dinner.
I will never forget the beauty of that
huge bird, nor the look he gave me.

You Spoiled My
Dinner

By Walt Hardester

It's Time
By . Crystalwizard

Two little words that strike
terror into the heart.

"It's time."

Those words sent icy chills
down my spine and caused
my heart to skip a beat. Not
that it matters in the least.

I looked up, through a thick
veil of darkness which was
rapidly descending and
shook my head.

"Come on!"

Why me? I'd done nothing.
Why was I here? Why was
this happening? I wanted
to scream, to plead, to beg.
Not that it would do any
good.

"Let's go!"

Terrifying. Those words, so
simple and easily said. Just
two little words yet they
brought with them horrors
beyond telling. I slid
backwards until the hard
wall stopped me and
cringed, then looked up
fearfully and watched as my
executioner approached.

"Let's go," the words
repeated. Rough hands
grasped me firmly and
dragged me against my will
over the hard, cold floor.
I fought. I struggled.
I tried...and failed.

"Stupid dog," the man
growled, watching me as
the cage door slammed
shut. "The groomers ain't
gonna kill you!"

This is the House       By
          Jaime Lee Moyer

This is the house that Jack built
in the woods where no one can see.
These are the dim-lit halls he walks
barefoot in the murky night.

This is the red oak floor
sanded too smooth for slivers.
This is the board that creaks
in front of a small blue door.

This is the way Jack's eyes gleam
in a house where no one can see.
This is the way he shivers.

This is the room where Jill lives
alone at the top of the stairs.
These are the sunburst windows
that Jill can never get open.

This is the lacy frost that
Burns skin when ever she tries.
These are the spiders who spy
for Jack from a web over the door.

These are the mice who tell him
when she sleeps or if she cries.
This is the way Jill trembles when
she remembers he wants her to lie.

These are the things that happen if
he thinks she has something to hide
These are the doors tight shut
in the house that Jack built.

This is the way they trap
the smallest noise inside.

Copyright © 2007 Jaime Lee Moyer

The Emerald Planet

Well hidden from Hubble's prying eyes
inside the Eagle Nebula's beak,
a world glows milky lime
among the towering gaseous pillars.

Beneath her atmosphere
of noxious chlorine gas,
copper mountains rust in the haze,
each jagged summit a dollop
of aquamarine cream
melting beneath that broiler
of a Sun,

green, like her child,
with a harsh stare burning
through fog to illumine emerald
lakes and verdant fields
of Lilly pads rocking on the waves...

Atop one pad poses a long-forgotten
Queen, her jade-spiked hair
sharp enough to ward off any suitor.
Her skin is unripe olive,
shining with oils the shade of Irish moss.
She counts her pterodactyl admirers,
circling overhead with their peridot eyes
and whistling malachite wings.
If only they would come closer...

Then she sighs deeply
and rolls onto her side, hoping to entice
with those strong, gloss-smooth thighs
and crystalline crown.
Despite its razored edges,
each spike scintillates
with key-lime arcs
of lightning during love...

Beyond her single-leafed throne
stand the Patina Cliffs,
then a canyon yawning wide
with polished turquoise teeth.
Deep inside the chasm,
a chlorophyll river carves
further through the rock.

Atop the tallest cliff
a forest thrives, lush
with ferns, mosses,
and beetles with polished
spearmint helmets
scuttling about, snipping free
juicy bits of leaf and frond.
Each soldier holds high his prize,
tensed like a sail against the wind
for the glorious march home
in triumph...
Scott Speck
01/09/2003

Y
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A D

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YOUR

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Third Cubical by Steve Jones

"Third cubical to the left," the clerk pointed,
raising his voice above phone voices and keyboard
rattles. "Can't miss it."
The clerk glanced after her as she walked toward
her objective, possibly with envy.
A blond bombshell, and of course she wanted to
talk to him.

He had changed his name, traveled halfway around
the planet, and even switched identities with some
one else. She smiled. Just a few more steps.

In the second cubical on the right; a no nonsense
brunette split her attention between a phone
and this visitor, sizing up a possible contender for
a man who had yet to notice her. This population
and their absurd diversions.

She took two steps and was met by a man rushing
out of the cubical, saying "I want it by lunch," who
tried not to plow into the beautiful apparition in
front of him. "Excuse me," the man said, hoping
she would speak, but having no time for idle
conversation. And then ... He stood as she entered
the cubical, his suit failing to obscure his finely
sculpted frame. His smoldering green eyes
gleamed mischievous as a smile touched his lips.

"Clever," he said, raising a hand. She nodded,
victorious, touching a finger to his shoulder.
"Tag. You're it."

The building exploded. The ground shook. A
hundred million pieces of rubble blew in as many
directions. The surrounding atmosphere filled
with dust hiding the sun and two small figures
propelled through the sky. Three nearby buildings
fell to the ground. Windows shattered five
kilometers away.

She landed in the alley behind a grocery store,
some twenty kilometers away. As she dusted
herself off to restore her image, she wandered out
to the street planning her next move.
He would be trying to find her.

Nemesis by Kelly Christiansen

I found it sitting on my desk,
staring at me with eyes as black as
the night between stars. Silent.
Motionless. Evil. Large pink ears
protruded from its head like
malicious radars, siphoning every
sound into its gargantuan brain.
Soft fur, grey with white speckles,
coated its body. Fur that begged
to be touched. Stroked. Cuddled.

I sat in my chair staring back while
I struggled with my socks. I swear
it laughed at me, though I heard no
sounds.

Evil. Pure evil. And it had landed
on my desk.

I dragged my pants onto my
shuddering body, picked the
monstrosity up by a tuft of its fur
and flung it out the open window
onto the newly mown lawn.

A soft step caused me to stiffen
and turn. Behind me, an innocent
child took her thumb from her
mouth and said: “Dad? Where’s my
Furby?”

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