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The Thought

Posted 5 February 2004, 11.56 pm by shaggy

I pondered at the forlorn path
The secret strength, the hidden math
By which, strong uncertain
Battles of mysterious portend
Shall be displayed to me

And as each thought passed
The uncontrolled mass
That whispers secrets to me
I felt unlearned
And, to the answers, yearned
As if they I could see

And what I found there
Chilled my blood and paled my hair
What I found,
That was previous underground,
The answers and questions, sound
Uncertain, staring, lurking
Piling upon my humours
Whistling the answers in rumours
Of no weak import
Was found, in my gaze,
Surrounded in the deepest haze,
-- Oh, that horrid gaze!
Those horrid eyes, that wicked maze!--
I found in that place
A deep, staring face
And I knew within my heart
--But where shall I start?--
I knew without a doubt
That this hideous beast was out
And sent against this world.

Time for Farewells I

Posted 5 February 2004, 4.10 pm by Lilith

This is the first of three poems in the set, and hopefully part of the foundation for the "Seasons" cycle (that I need to work more on). Since to me, fall seems the natural place to start (has nothing to do with Jewish New Year being in the fall, actually) writing the cycle, this will most likely be the first poem not only in the set, but in the entire cycle when and if I ever complete it (well, hopefully I will).

Any criticism is welcome, here or on the forum.
____________________________________________

1.

In the morning it was autumn
Dry seeds tap-dancing across the concrete.
A tired body demanding sleep, unsated
In the short hours before sunrise.
And the lapis of the sky was perfect,
Immaculate; but the leaves
Were still vividly green—
Casual attire to be replaced
By the evening dress of fall.
And the air was sweet and just
A little too pungent,
The smell of abandoned orchards.
Yes, it was autumn in the morning,
The time for farewells.

The autumn wind came,
A lover’s touch—too tender to endure
Without tears.
It will undress the forest—
Tear away the seductive silks
Of crimson, purple and gold,
Exposing the souls of trees
The gentle mist clinging to the rolling hills.
And I will see far away,
Knowing the coming of Fall.

This morning they stand unsuspecting,
And I watch them wait
For the coming of Fall,
The time of becoming.

Winter Sky

Posted 29 January 2004, 5.10 pm by Lilith

***

No snow this morning,
But mist clouds dimly
The city that isn't asleep.
The air is too dry
And the falling leaves whisper
And cover the ground knee-deep.

They rustle in piles where they fell,
And they gather
In nooks near old stone walls.
They wait for the first chilly steps
Of the season--
The blanket of first snowfall.

And skies like a platinum lake,
Thick and heavy
Look down on a city of gray.
And trees bow down
To the herald of winter,
The slow North wind of the day.

Welcome to V3

Posted 24 January 2004, 4.26 pm by Alexander

Hello, and welcome to AKPCEP V3.

Firstly apologies for the week of downtime, secondly a massive thank you to those of you who donated money towards the running costs of the site. Both of these factors inspired me to do a complete re-code of both the front and back end of akpcep. It doesn't just look different, folks - it is different.

On top of all that I've installed brand new forum software which is more feature-packed, faster and less server-intensive, which should lead to a faster more stable akpcep.

Lastly, you can now find akpcep at www.akpcep.com AND www.akpcep.net. Now go - update your email address in the Shed because they were lost in the database conversion.

And where possible, enjoy yourselves.

Server Move in Progress

Posted 18 January 2004, 9.08 am by Alexander

Just a heads-up for you all. We're moving servers, so expect a day or so when www.akpcep.com may not resolve, while the DNS transfers over from one server to another.

However, I have a few surprises for you all on the other side, so stick with us.

Night Watch

Posted 15 January 2004, 5.52 am by Villager

Enough! I'm fed up and I'm not taking any more of it. For the past three years I've existed in a cycle of self induced insomnia (yes, it still counts apparently) supported by all sorts of mechanisms to make me alert for a few hours of the day when I needed to get things done. Sleep and my body came a poor third in relation to whim and time restraint. As most of you will be aware, it's difficult to continue to function normally when you deprive yourself of adequate and regular sleep. That said, I became quite adept at manipulating my 'body-clock' to get the most hours of time awake when I wanted them. I'd grin and bear it when it became necessary. I tried to defy the need for sleep, and scored a partial victory. That is, with the help of adrenalin, caffeine, taurine, glucose-fructose syrup, and frequent siestas. After all, twenty-four hours isn't nearly enough time to get things done if you spend 8 of them sleeping, especially if they're so restrictive as to be at regular times.

Well, no more. I'm tired of massaging my battered body into accepting an unnatural pattern of existence with the assistance of stimulants. No more coffee. No more Lucozade. No more early morning runs. No more alcohol. No more staring at this damned screen for hours each night. From here I will stand or fall on my ability to function with a normal sleeping pattern free from the coffee/sugar binges that I've become so familiar with. My mismanagement has taken toll enough on mind and body alike. When it gets to the point where my doctor suggests an antidepressant tranquilliser to reregulate my sleeping patterns in order to prevent any further weight loss (I've steadily been getting further away from a healthy height/weight ratio over the past year) I think it's time to make a reappraisal of my habits and vices.

Although I certainly reached a point where I really did need to resort to artificial stimulants to get things done (assignments/work/staying awake between lectures) this isn't really about dependence. It's about influence. While I make no pretence that any of these things have true addictive powers, fact is I've proved highly vulnerable to their frequent use. In attempting to escape the inescapable limitations of my body I've given far too much importance to these stimulants to lift me out of the lethargy that results from poor sleeping patterns. It's a vicious cycle really, and one I've been more or less constantly inclined to remain within for a long time now. Well, it ends here. While it rather would be wrong to suggest such a thing as a 'normalisation', I'm going in search of something of a naturalisation of lifestyle, and discovery of that necessitates the absence of all those things I've misguidedly used in my long and tiring campaign to defy myself.

Kids!

Posted 30 December 2003, 4.21 pm by Jake

Here we go. Seven kids die in a car crash, and insanity ensues.

Wait, let me rephrase that. Seven underaged, unlicensed kids "borrow" a friend's car and decide to go speeding, dying in a violent crash that could have been avoided if THE PARENTS HAD ANY FUCKING SENSE, and insanity ensues.

" 'They were just out joyriding and a cop pulls them over and here we have seven deaths. I lost my only son,' Hurtt said. "

You call THAT joyriding? You call packing seven young kids into a car and hauling ass down the streets JOYRIDING? Where's your common sense, man? You and your fellow parents let them take off, knowing that something like this could/would happen, and now you're scrambling to point the blame somewhere else? Sorry, buddy. Their blood is all on the hands of you parents.

The cop didn't even get to pull them over, you idiot. Don't you dare fucking blame it on the cops. They were just doing their job, protecting the public from a gang of idiot juveniles who could have easily killed someone other than themselves.

" Troutman police Chief Eric Henderson said Officer Keith Bills chased the car for about a mile on U.S. 21 until it flipped over after hitting an embankment, crashed into a tree and then skidded to a stop upside down in a creek.

Bills, however, said he tried to stop the car only briefly, following it about 500 yards before it sped out of sight.

'It was swerving, slowing down and speeding up, just erratic driving,' Bills told the Statesville Record & Landmark. Bills said he did not see the crash, but found the wreckage later. "

Let me ask you something, Mr. Hurtt. If you were a small-town policeman, and you saw a carload of teens hauling ass past you, what would YOU do? I think you'd chase them, seeing as how it's your duty to uphold and enforce the law.

What kills me is that parents just don't take control of their kids nowadays. I remember when I did the same thing. I took my mom's truck for a ride right down the block to a girl's house, and got into deep shit. I didn't speed, I didn't drive erratically. Regardless, I got the bitch-out of a lifetime and was immediately grounded. That's proper parenting, folks.

I'm starting to think that parents aren't really all that they're hyped up to be. It doesn't take a Nobel laureate to get laid and essentially knocked up, and it obviously doesn't take a Pulitzer Prize-winning genius to raise a kid. We've learned that throughout the various news stories of "Baby chokes while playing with 17 year-old mother's purple double-headed dildo" and "20 year-old father tries to breastfeed infant, doesn't understand why it starved". Of course these are exaggerated, but the circumstances could be highly likely, because yes, people are THAT stupid.

Point is, if you're going to shoot your wad into a uterus and fertilize some eggs, you should be intellectually and judgmentally capable of taking care of whatever happens to fall out of your prom date's vagina nine months later. That's just common sense. You took on that responsibility when you decided not to wrap your wang ("One time without a jimmy cap won't hurt"), and figured that you'd just rather not waste time with pulling out before you came.

Being the "cool parent" is dangerous, because what kids think is cool differs vastly from generation to generation. I mean, look at the kids from my parent's era. They were born and raised in the fifties, and the worst things they did were drinking and racing cars. Oh, shit. Bad example. Well, they definitely weren't pulling stunts from "Jackass" and getting bent on cough syrup. That kind of shit was unheard of. Disobeying parents was a definite no. Parents seemed to be more assertive and sensible in that day and age.

Being the "cool parent" means that you let your kids get away with partying, going god-knows where, doing god-knows what and coming home god-knows when. You let them take other people's cars out for a drive, when they themselves have no license to drive legally. You let them do whatever they want, because you figure that kids will be kids, and that they're your children, so by extension they're indestructible. You survived the stoned-out sixties and the swinging seventies. For God's sake, you endured Eighties pop. You should be able to get through anything, and so should your children.

So, you absolve yourself of any blame, and let the kids do whatever they wish, because a) you don't have to waste time with any of that "responsibility" nonsense, b) it automatically makes your kids popular, and c) it's just a whole hell of a lot easier in the long run, because they WILL come to their senses, eventually. So, you let them sneak the occasional wine cooler, because they won't become alcoholics if you're there watching over them. You let them have girls over, because they won't fuck if the parents are around, and it goes from there.

And the cycle of irresponsibility continues, because if your kids are never accountable for their actions at a young age, how will they learn to be accountable ten years down the road? Jail? Rape? Addiction? Death? Hopefully it's not the latter, but in a case such as this, it's far too late.

I sympathize for the children. It's not THEIR fault that nobody took responsibility into their own hands and uttered a single-syllable word that could have made all the difference in the world. A word that, with it's presence, could have spared these seven rugrats their lives.

You know what that word is, Mr. Hurtt?

"No."

’02:05:02

Posted 23 December 2003, 7.47 am by Dragonfly

The pink throat of the bowl cupped
the bubbles of my piss
carefully like old
servicing hands
a foam of
so many airy marbles
like the primordial spittle of an
Aphroditian cock

my tadpoles, my
how they shine in the
dirty light.

It gurgled and washed
away my piss
sucking it away like a hungry
beast.

The sink
floods when I wash my hands
the bitch
never cleans.
I wash my hands
try to ignore the small
circumferencial stains
although its cleaner than before
like the floor, but
god it stinks
and the tub’s still bad as ever.
my
it bugs me that my
my nails are too long
and get
caught on my shirt
(like foam to an
empty glass) I scratch
and leave
to bury my head in sheets
still flushed with night.

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Doggybag/baggy_dog is an artist living and working in Barga, Italy. Click here to read about this piece in his own words.


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Hmph

80s candy bars were pretty good

only because i traded it for a candy bar in the 80's.

lol we all know you don't have a soul ghoti

my soul for some carbs...

But of course!

Yo ! Does this work ?

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