bump in order to pots poetry
Of a darker time,
One we could possibly see,
Is a bunch of loser haikus that no one cares about!
#ownt
I didn't tag that post.
Which makes me the biggest loser.
A loser tends to be toast.
Losers don't know how to rhyme.
pow pow bam this is prose
art of an otherwise brighter time
- KobaBeach
- screw it lion time. we are so f***ing back
- Posts: 6929
- Joined: 11 years ago
- First name: David (evil)
- Pronouns: he/they
- Location: Portugal
- https://koba.talkhaus.com/
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
2deep4me
2014 IGF Grand Prize winner erryone
2014 IGF Grand Prize winner erryone
#1 mega cd enjoyer AND "making fun of"-er
MaGL Patch Collection / vg backlog spreadsheet / animu list / mcmangos / steam
oogggghhhh games aren't art Fuck You Roger Ebert *kills him with a hamemr*
MaGL Patch Collection / vg backlog spreadsheet / animu list / mcmangos / steam
oogggghhhh games aren't art Fuck You Roger Ebert *kills him with a hamemr*
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
reposting my story since backup. keep in mind that due to this being from a long time ago these do not reflect the current condition of the story. but i dont care.
discreet ephebe currently occupies some 105 pages and is really really bad. i will upload more recent pictures if it comes to that
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
she was standing at first, for a second, and then she was sitting and it seemed like the single motion she put into the action was with such poise and grace that he was in love with the woman that had just entered the bus. this had happened before to the man but not in such a way that his chest thumped loudly like shoes in a dryer and his heart performed pirouettes. the woman was so alluring that she radiated and the bus was full of the light emerging from her pores. golden hair that came from the scalp and descended down to her shoulders and lower but he could not see any further because she sat slouching and her hair disappeared into a crevice of her back and the fake leather of the seats. in her hands was a large book. he tried to read the title but he could not because her hand obscured it so he saw her thin fingers with wrinkles on the knuckles and she did not grip the book too tight, and her skin was pallid so that she was practically ethereal. the man imagined a ghost of a girl that sat with him and nearly stopped because his heart screamed when she opened the book and her eyelids went half way down so she looked sleepy, but if you looked closely she was focused to see each word and understand it, embrace it. was she different?, the man thought when his mind went off to the other women he had owned for this short second here on this same bus every day as he rode off to work. was she different from all the other girls he had known more than anyone else for a fleeting moment, surrounded by dulled voices and these other people who would not compare to the girl because of small reasons? a mole on a cheek, a woman with hair that parted a half of an inch to far from the left side of her head, another with a lower lip that bulged and then a loud one whose feet were slightly hairy at the top, curling gently for two millimeters. the girl did not make him nervous. most girls made him nervous but instead she gave off good vibes that would have brought a smile to his face had he not stopped himself. she was only an aisle away, had she noticed him staring at her with eyes very wide? only now did the bus start its journey resulting in a deep moan from the interior and the disembodied voices grew even louder. he couldn’t even say a word now, not to her, not to anyone. he nearly closed his eyes but he didn’t. he didn’t know why he refused to close his eyes because every other girl just like her could only bring forth vivid fantasies of their lives together. he images first when they kiss, and then the exact date they call their relationship official, and then finally when they remove themselves from each others lives as he knows they would. love cannot last forever so he chooses to embrace this and take beauty in the final moments they speak and turn it into something more romantic than anything else. their goodbyes mean something more than what they seem to mean when uttered but if he can remember them and think about them for hours he suddenly attains a deeper insight into the words they say but now when he looked at the girl with blond hair he didn’t see that at all. all that was ahead was something bright so he tried to reach over but she neglected to remove her attention from the book because it was more important than the stranger on the bus whose arms reached over slowly. his arm trembled at first but once it was a fourth of the way there it no longer did because of her inviting presence. at this moment she was shining brighter than ever before and the man could not even see his own figure or his hand, only the silhouette of the girl that felt one million miles away. she was not that far though, she was right here and he looked to her chest and saw her breathing that was slow and calm. this was only an excuse though, because a second after he saw her breathe he stopped and looked at her bosom. she was not well endowed but that did not matter because what features she did have were accentuated by a purple tee pulled over a red one. it looked awful, the two colors all over her like that, but clothing did not matter. only the girl mattered right now and she was the most important thing in the entire world to him because her alone could make his life happy in the mundane moments like this, riding on a bus seated by an old woman who in hindsight probably knew of the man’s ogling but did not comment because she could only think of the young love and was optimistic about the two, wished the man good luck if he were to speak to her, but he did not. his arm was locked, one fourth of the way there, until he put it down. if she did not notice him now she never would. the man thought that he could stroke her cheek so gently and break the wall between them in an instant but he would only startle her, because she was divinity and after he looked down to examine his body he was not, if a male name rhymed with plain that was him and it would always be him. he wondered how far he was from his stop so he took his eyes off the girl and looked out of the window she sat near but it was only a blur. when he tried to focus he couldn’t and instead his mind strayed to the girl that still read the book with a red cover and yellowed pages. did she read the book or just look at the words in order? the pages were turned very quickly, so fast that it seemed impossible to read so fast but the man knew his friend that read fast because you get that way when you read often, so he thought the girl read a lot and when he looked in the reflection of her glasses he could see the grey of the fake leather seats in front of her as well as everyone except for the people who sat on the right aisle in the front seats who instead saw a wall with chipping paint. she had to be different he affirmed himself so he nearly spoke to her but the bus stopped, not at the man’s stop, but her stop, because she closed the book without a bookmark and left so the man tried to catch a glimpse of her rear but she had none because of her bony figure and he nearly shouted but didn’t, and the girl walked off and the man fell silent as well as the old lady, and soon it felt like the whole world had fallen silent when the bus again began to move away and the blurs in the windows became fluent and the man thought of the girl but the girl thought of her book, and the sun peeked above buildings and the entire sky was flaxen and fair.
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
I'M NOT GOING TO READ ALL OF THIS UBLESS YOU SPACE IT......midibreak wrote:she was standing at first, for a second, and then she was sitting and it seemed like the single motion she put into the action was with such poise and grace that he was in love with the woman that had just entered the bus. this had happened before to the man but not in such a way that his chest thumped loudly like shoes in a dryer and his heart performed pirouettes. the woman was so alluring that she radiated and the bus was full of the light emerging from her pores. golden hair that came from the scalp and descended down to her shoulders and lower but he could not see any further because she sat slouching and her hair disappeared into a crevice of her back and the fake leather of the seats. in her hands was a large book. he tried to read the title but he could not because her hand obscured it so he saw her thin fingers with wrinkles on the knuckles and she did not grip the book too tight, and her skin was pallid so that she was practically ethereal. the man imagined a ghost of a girl that sat with him and nearly stopped because his heart screamed when she opened the book and her eyelids went half way down so she looked sleepy, but if you looked closely she was focused to see each word and understand it, embrace it. was she different?, the man thought when his mind went off to the other women he had owned for this short second here on this same bus every day as he rode off to work. was she different from all the other girls he had known more than anyone else for a fleeting moment, surrounded by dulled voices and these other people who would not compare to the girl because of small reasons? a mole on a cheek, a woman with hair that parted a half of an inch to far from the left side of her head, another with a lower lip that bulged and then a loud one whose feet were slightly hairy at the top, curling gently for two millimeters. the girl did not make him nervous. most girls made him nervous but instead she gave off good vibes that would have brought a smile to his face had he not stopped himself. she was only an aisle away, had she noticed him staring at her with eyes very wide? only now did the bus start its journey resulting in a deep moan from the interior and the disembodied voices grew even louder. he couldn’t even say a word now, not to her, not to anyone. he nearly closed his eyes but he didn’t. he didn’t know why he refused to close his eyes because every other girl just like her could only bring forth vivid fantasies of their lives together. he images first when they kiss, and then the exact date they call their relationship official, and then finally when they remove themselves from each others lives as he knows they would. love cannot last forever so he chooses to embrace this and take beauty in the final moments they speak and turn it into something more romantic than anything else. their goodbyes mean something more than what they seem to mean when uttered but if he can remember them and think about them for hours he suddenly attains a deeper insight into the words they say but now when he looked at the girl with blond hair he didn’t see that at all. all that was ahead was something bright so he tried to reach over but she neglected to remove her attention from the book because it was more important than the stranger on the bus whose arms reached over slowly. his arm trembled at first but once it was a fourth of the way there it no longer did because of her inviting presence. at this moment she was shining brighter than ever before and the man could not even see his own figure or his hand, only the silhouette of the girl that felt one million miles away. she was not that far though, she was right here and he looked to her chest and saw her breathing that was slow and calm. this was only an excuse though, because a second after he saw her breathe he stopped and looked at her bosom. she was not well endowed but that did not matter because what features she did have were accentuated by a purple tee pulled over a red one. it looked awful, the two colors all over her like that, but clothing did not matter. only the girl mattered right now and she was the most important thing in the entire world to him because her alone could make his life happy in the mundane moments like this, riding on a bus seated by an old woman who in hindsight probably knew of the man’s ogling but did not comment because she could only think of the young love and was optimistic about the two, wished the man good luck if he were to speak to her, but he did not. his arm was locked, one fourth of the way there, until he put it down. if she did not notice him now she never would. the man thought that he could stroke her cheek so gently and break the wall between them in an instant but he would only startle her, because she was divinity and after he looked down to examine his body he was not, if a male name rhymed with plain that was him and it would always be him. he wondered how far he was from his stop so he took his eyes off the girl and looked out of the window she sat near but it was only a blur. when he tried to focus he couldn’t and instead his mind strayed to the girl that still read the book with a red cover and yellowed pages. did she read the book or just look at the words in order? the pages were turned very quickly, so fast that it seemed impossible to read so fast but the man knew his friend that read fast because you get that way when you read often, so he thought the girl read a lot and when he looked in the reflection of her glasses he could see the grey of the fake leather seats in front of her as well as everyone except for the people who sat on the right aisle in the front seats who instead saw a wall with chipping paint. she had to be different he affirmed himself so he nearly spoke to her but the bus stopped, not at the man’s stop, but her stop, because she closed the book without a bookmark and left so the man tried to catch a glimpse of her rear but she had none because of her bony figure and he nearly shouted but didn’t, and the girl walked off and the man fell silent as well as the old lady, and soon it felt like the whole world had fallen silent when the bus again began to move away and the blurs in the windows became fluent and the man thought of the girl but the girl thought of her book, and the sun peeked above buildings and the entire sky was flaxen and fair.
also i now wonder if you have serious art skills because i wonder if uou drew your avatar, its very pretty uvu
also holy crap kobabeach did you draw that it looks awesome
spatula
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
yes i do have serious art skills but not a large amount of it is online.Hazelnut wrote:I'M NOT GOING TO READ ALL OF THIS UBLESS YOU SPACE IT......midibreak wrote:she was standing at first, for a second, and then she was sitting and it seemed like the single motion she put into the action was with such poise and grace that he was in love with the woman that had just entered the bus. this had happened before to the man but not in such a way that his chest thumped loudly like shoes in a dryer and his heart performed pirouettes. the woman was so alluring that she radiated and the bus was full of the light emerging from her pores. golden hair that came from the scalp and descended down to her shoulders and lower but he could not see any further because she sat slouching and her hair disappeared into a crevice of her back and the fake leather of the seats. in her hands was a large book. he tried to read the title but he could not because her hand obscured it so he saw her thin fingers with wrinkles on the knuckles and she did not grip the book too tight, and her skin was pallid so that she was practically ethereal. the man imagined a ghost of a girl that sat with him and nearly stopped because his heart screamed when she opened the book and her eyelids went half way down so she looked sleepy, but if you looked closely she was focused to see each word and understand it, embrace it. was she different?, the man thought when his mind went off to the other women he had owned for this short second here on this same bus every day as he rode off to work. was she different from all the other girls he had known more than anyone else for a fleeting moment, surrounded by dulled voices and these other people who would not compare to the girl because of small reasons? a mole on a cheek, a woman with hair that parted a half of an inch to far from the left side of her head, another with a lower lip that bulged and then a loud one whose feet were slightly hairy at the top, curling gently for two millimeters. the girl did not make him nervous. most girls made him nervous but instead she gave off good vibes that would have brought a smile to his face had he not stopped himself. she was only an aisle away, had she noticed him staring at her with eyes very wide? only now did the bus start its journey resulting in a deep moan from the interior and the disembodied voices grew even louder. he couldn’t even say a word now, not to her, not to anyone. he nearly closed his eyes but he didn’t. he didn’t know why he refused to close his eyes because every other girl just like her could only bring forth vivid fantasies of their lives together. he images first when they kiss, and then the exact date they call their relationship official, and then finally when they remove themselves from each others lives as he knows they would. love cannot last forever so he chooses to embrace this and take beauty in the final moments they speak and turn it into something more romantic than anything else. their goodbyes mean something more than what they seem to mean when uttered but if he can remember them and think about them for hours he suddenly attains a deeper insight into the words they say but now when he looked at the girl with blond hair he didn’t see that at all. all that was ahead was something bright so he tried to reach over but she neglected to remove her attention from the book because it was more important than the stranger on the bus whose arms reached over slowly. his arm trembled at first but once it was a fourth of the way there it no longer did because of her inviting presence. at this moment she was shining brighter than ever before and the man could not even see his own figure or his hand, only the silhouette of the girl that felt one million miles away. she was not that far though, she was right here and he looked to her chest and saw her breathing that was slow and calm. this was only an excuse though, because a second after he saw her breathe he stopped and looked at her bosom. she was not well endowed but that did not matter because what features she did have were accentuated by a purple tee pulled over a red one. it looked awful, the two colors all over her like that, but clothing did not matter. only the girl mattered right now and she was the most important thing in the entire world to him because her alone could make his life happy in the mundane moments like this, riding on a bus seated by an old woman who in hindsight probably knew of the man’s ogling but did not comment because she could only think of the young love and was optimistic about the two, wished the man good luck if he were to speak to her, but he did not. his arm was locked, one fourth of the way there, until he put it down. if she did not notice him now she never would. the man thought that he could stroke her cheek so gently and break the wall between them in an instant but he would only startle her, because she was divinity and after he looked down to examine his body he was not, if a male name rhymed with plain that was him and it would always be him. he wondered how far he was from his stop so he took his eyes off the girl and looked out of the window she sat near but it was only a blur. when he tried to focus he couldn’t and instead his mind strayed to the girl that still read the book with a red cover and yellowed pages. did she read the book or just look at the words in order? the pages were turned very quickly, so fast that it seemed impossible to read so fast but the man knew his friend that read fast because you get that way when you read often, so he thought the girl read a lot and when he looked in the reflection of her glasses he could see the grey of the fake leather seats in front of her as well as everyone except for the people who sat on the right aisle in the front seats who instead saw a wall with chipping paint. she had to be different he affirmed himself so he nearly spoke to her but the bus stopped, not at the man’s stop, but her stop, because she closed the book without a bookmark and left so the man tried to catch a glimpse of her rear but she had none because of her bony figure and he nearly shouted but didn’t, and the girl walked off and the man fell silent as well as the old lady, and soon it felt like the whole world had fallen silent when the bus again began to move away and the blurs in the windows became fluent and the man thought of the girl but the girl thought of her book, and the sun peeked above buildings and the entire sky was flaxen and fair.
also i now wonder if you have serious art skills because i wonder if uou drew your avatar, its very pretty uvu
also holy crap kobabeach did you draw that it looks awesome
read everything i write or else you are wrong.
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
hello i have rewrtten this comic hello my name is
comic One: hello
comic two: hello
comic three: have you ever been to quebec ieveryones like either racist or not canadian
comic One: hello
comic two: hello
comic three: have you ever been to quebec ieveryones like either racist or not canadian
- KobaBeach
- screw it lion time. we are so f***ing back
- Posts: 6929
- Joined: 11 years ago
- First name: David (evil)
- Pronouns: he/they
- Location: Portugal
- https://koba.talkhaus.com/
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
There needs to be a reference to this in AZCT
#1 mega cd enjoyer AND "making fun of"-er
MaGL Patch Collection / vg backlog spreadsheet / animu list / mcmangos / steam
oogggghhhh games aren't art Fuck You Roger Ebert *kills him with a hamemr*
MaGL Patch Collection / vg backlog spreadsheet / animu list / mcmangos / steam
oogggghhhh games aren't art Fuck You Roger Ebert *kills him with a hamemr*
- Leet
- Well, hello, Smith ( ´-`)ノ
- Posts: 3025
- Joined: 11 years ago
- First name: Chie Arale
- Pronouns: she/her
- Location: Harman's Room
- https://leet.talkhaus.com/
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
kill and replace [AOD]
raocow will never know
WAIT HE MIGHT READ THIs
spoilers for a super duper mario 223432 thing 23432 x x seventy
raocow will never know
WAIT HE MIGHT READ THIs
spoilers for a super duper mario 223432 thing 23432 x x seventy
Well it is a decent hack but sometime its just too repetitif there no level that actually pop in your face and your like oh yeah that level they all ressemble themselves and just monster along the way.
Blood Ghoul wrote:Sometimes it seems my blood spurts out in gobs, as if it were a fountain's pulsing sobs. I clearly hear it mutter as it goes yet cannot find the wound from which it flows. Before I met you, baby, I didn't know what I was missing.
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
any time i want to post my serious work here i get afraid that it will be overshadowed by the other stuff MY FUCKING STOMACH HURTS
Re: art of an otherwise brighter time
this is beauty
d̀͢͏̷͢ȩ̢͡͞͠-̸̢͟҉g̶̡͟͞҉e͞͏͞͞͠n͢҉e̸̛͠͞r͟á̡͠͡ţ̛́͜i̧̛o̵̢ń̴͠͝͝
dA
dA