Sweven
Member

HI Someone stands on a cube peak

Honest Love
Invited inside from the howling cold and knee high snow. Old school mate yearns for honest love. Set out through storms to seek out a love deeper than fancies, flings, or psychotic soul mate things masquerading as 'meant to be'.

La Raylee
Impossible hills and steep tilted tracks are no match for Sisters crowded car. Rollercoaster home. I wander streets, find a white sand path laid straight through skinny trees. City blacks out. Back to the house. Cram into the car. Escape. In a toss of snow dusted trash, a baby lifts her head, squeaks. Under her a raggedy man stirs. He is Barry or Jerry of sector 74. "Take her to warmth. Her name is La Raylee. It's also Ophelia." We take her though our car is crowded and our hearts are uncertain. Try to outrun the end that will soon come.

Stairwell Secret
A slave to the hospital again. Below the lowest floor in the stairwell lies a secret room. It is littered with cobwebbed mechanical parts, disassembled. We break often to sift through the secrets stored there, believing some treasure awaits.

Wall Crawlers
Highschool hallway. Aerobics broadcast from wall mounted televisions. Most ignore it. Some of us get sucked in. Instructor climbs a wall like spiderman. As a joke, press back against the wall. Surprise, we can crabwalk backward up to the ceiling. Others join. We wall crawlers storm through institutional halls.


Team Robot - Competition Day 1
{will figure out competition points later}

HI
Old handsaw standing on end, wobbling
Lines of light pour upward into a narrow stream

Soup Spiral
'Free food. At park.' bings the cell before shifting into a crumpled page. Find the place. Spiral stand of starving souls await their share of turkey and dumpling soup. Finally I am there. The remains are perogy dumplings spattered with turkey strands. Take my share. Stroll away.

Project
Dread the test ticking nearer. Accidentally project my music and slideshow onto the wall. It can't be closed. Shame prickles at sight of severely pixilated images. A cousin asks to study with me. She is a merciful distraction from the projected mess on the wall.

Unclean
Some doors are half there, some not there at all. Still they crowd in and make use of the stalls. Mine is a mess of crumples, pools, graffiti choked walls. Mop. Wash. Turn for sanitizer. Turn back and behold a small boy slapping about in the filth of the bowl. Clean him as well while holding back swells of vomit attempting to spew. The father flings clots of Christmas carols and toilet paper ribbons our way. Snap. 'Not my toilet... not my toddler.' Abandon the unclean.


Team Robot - Spring Competition 2025

LUCID: Secret Street

See the secret street. It steals one away from tourist traps and lofty lodgings a-glimmer. They prey on starving wallets and sweet sheeple minds. Stride the secret street up into the lull of a desolate shire. Cross into the curl of a sun bleached grin lined with faded lights screaming Come On In!

Just beyond the yaw lies an ancient way of steely playgrounds, glimmering arcades, and music yanked from distant yesterdays. An elegant swirl of gold frosted stairs leads ever upward and then we are there. Rivendellian hall of golden fires, unceasing spirits, unfaltering food.

See them now, they three. Especially he, who left this life behind. Their chatter and laughter rekindle a spark, relighting my heart where once only yawned an imploding dark and festering shriek. Try steal the scene with canon fire. A barrel too narrow can't capture all. Refocus. They have lingered on.

Upon fur topped bunks he sits and grins. Finally capture reflections of him. Now it's they three and me. Reluctantly leave the swell of the secret street. There tilts a sign that rustily screams intersection of Tragedy and Queen. Now back into the bite of the beast that chews away all worth.

Moon has fallen. Great statues shake. They groan and quake. A gargoyle sheds graven skin, growls, grows, spreads its wings. Glare into each others emptiness.

Reassure my trio, my reformed katet, "It's okay. I know how to stop it. I've dreamed this before..."

Lucidity storms.

"I'm dreaming now..."

Wake.

Happy Lucid Dreaming Day. Adding the couple of lucid encounters I had this month so far.

10th

A shifty sound. Wake! Behold gentle night and a strange shadow that shivers midst shadow. Rectangular head upon skeletal frame. Stare into the glare of too tiny eyes. Grimace at the sight of dagger lined lips. "It's a dream. Are you trying to scare me?"

Wake

Sit up. "Still dreaming." Look for the thing. It is gone. "You can't scare me," I sing to whatever will hear. "I am invincible as long as I have this..." Put out my palm. Nothing. Try three more times and finally flourishes my totem. A crystal ball enwrapped in waves of flames floats above my flattened palm.

Wake

Sit up. "I was lucid. Must write this down." Reach for my journal. "Is this still a dream..."

Wake

Sit up. "I was lucid." Reach for my journal. Scribble the shapes of my dreams.

30th

Bridge Glitch
Keep crossing the same bridge no matter which ways are taken. "Time to make our own roads," I say while scanning ditches for escape.

Orality
They greet by giving oral sex as if merely shaking hands. Not that desperate to converse, I sit. I think. I write.

Intercedings
Bewitched by northlight ribbons, brave the snow and starlit unknown. Camera will not see. Phone will not wake. Seasons shift from drifts to mud to drifts again. People need, need, need. Can not even love the lights. Always interceding.

HI
Phantom serpents of light spill and twist together into a slow spinning galactic dance.