I, Razz

[razz]

I just found a folder of mine. I lost it about a year ago, and it has a bunch of essays and poems I liked too much to throw away. I figured I'd share some with you (aren't y'all lucky? )

Be warned however, a few of these may be (or are) offensive or cruel. I'll try to explain my reasoning if I can. and with one or two I'll tag spoilers and NSFW. Matt, if you think for any reason one should be removed, I have no problem with it.

This first one was for an assignment for Social Studies back in 9th grade. The teacher asked us to do some sort of writing assignment on what we thought the opposing country was thinking during a war. I ended up with WWII and chose Germany, so this is from the viewpoint of Hitler. I tried to stay out of the whole religious crusade thing though.

Der Fuhrer

Hurrah France has fallen!
Deutschland is the best.
We now control most of Europe,
we must now take the west!

The U.S. fights against us now,
those worthless, arrogant fools!
they must fall, und Russland too,
and come under our rule.

We must preserve the German Race,
But mein Third Reich ist doomed!
But one day we shall rise again
Und that day shall come soon...

I can't remember why I thought this way, but now I think that Hitler must have been confident that someone would carry on and lead Nazi Germany after his death. Nope. Nobody tapped the glass.

[The Lady of Shadows]

razz i'm so glad to see you finally posting your work. i know it's hard to do but it's good to get your thoughts out there.

i am very interested in your first piece. i find your take on hitler's mood at the end of the war very interesting and the dichotomy between his actual state of mind, and the state of mind you put him in is fascinating to me. i know it's been a long time since you wrote it but can you elaborate a little on why you chose to make his mood so positive and forward thinking?

i know we talked about this a little already, and if you really can't remember that's cool. i just find the dichotomy so striking. were you perhaps saddened by the state in which germany found itself after the war?

[razz]

Actually that may be part of it. i think Germany is a great country, it's an interesting place, and i want to travel there some day. But I can't help thinking that WWII wasn't just Germany's fault. After all, the main reason Hitler came to power was because of the depression, which was in turn caused by the other European powers, who demanded that Germany pay for ALL expenses of the war, and claiming it was completely their (Germany's) fault. If Germany had just risen up, beaten the living shit out of France and Britain, then settled back, i think they would have deserved it. But I think on of the reasons one such as Hitler came to power is because people were desperate, and Hitler told them what they wanted to hear. And the reason they were desperate was because of the result of WWI. So first Britain and France destroyed that country, which allowed a dictator to rise up and destroy itself (along with many other countries) even further. I DO want Germany to rise again, just not as a nazi country.

[Jean]

it would be a very sound reasoning if you replaced "the only reason" (repeated twice) with "the main", or, better, "one of the main reasons"

[razz]

good point. I know it wasn't the only reason, thanks for pointing it out, Jean

[LadyHitchhiker]

You are going to laugh out loud but this is funny and true. This is the first time I've ever read this thread and last night ALL I dreamed about wast Hitler!!!

[razz]

Okay, this is a joke, really. We finished reading Tears of a Tiger, as i have repeatedly complained about, and we now have to report on the book, in various ways. one of the options was to write and perform a song. I was just going to make a copy of the book review i made and use that, but then i watched scenes of "Who's Line is it Anyways?" and got this idea. I showed it to a few friends, and the four of us are going to perform it.
Ladies and Gentlemen; the Tears of a Tiger Irish Drinking Song

Oooooohhhhh
hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!

Once there were four kids
they were very drunk
and when the car swerved off the road
it hit a wall and went THUNK!

One went through the windshield
But he was still alive
then the car exploded
and that was when he died

Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!

Andy couldn't live it down
Rob's death was his fault
so he went to therapy
they released him after three months

then his girlfriend left him
he said he was done
then he skipped school one day,
killed himself with a shotgun!

Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!

He broke up his parents marriage
when he shot himself
All of his friends were angry
i bet he's rotting in hell

It's like some horror movie,
a bad one, that's for sure!
the passenger then the driver...
it's Final Destination Four!

Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!

Now there's only two of them
it started off with four
but one died in a car crash
the other aired out his dome

I say the book was horrible
that's all that's to be said
and if you make me read it again
I'll cleave off my arm instead

Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!
Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy-didy-didy-die!
Oh, hidy-didy-didy-didy
Di
dyyy
Diiiiii
dyyyyyyy
diiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!!!!!!

[razz]

Never before has the title of this thread seemed so fitting. right now Razz and Robot seem perfectly synonymous.

sounds i don't want to hear, haunt me
things i don't want to touch
I put the mirrors away.
my brain wants to talk,
but my lips won't move and my pen won't write
My heart is a battery that's never charged.

[Woofer]

Never before has the title of this thread seemed so fitting. right now Razz and Robot seem perfectly synonymous.

sounds i don't want to hear, haunt me
things i don't want to touch
I put the mirrors away.
my brain wants to talk,
but my lips won't move and my pen won't write
My heart is a battery that's never charged.

Your best so far (of what I have had the privilege of seeing). Haunting and familiar.

[Jon]

Nice work Razz. It seemed heartfelt.

I regret this is my first visit to this thread.

[alinda]

Razz, your full of surprises, nice writing.

[Jon]

Razz, your full of surprises, nice writing.

And full of s&it!

[razz]

Razz, your full of surprises, nice writing.

And full of s&it!

Duly noted, moving on:

Here's a piece I wrote earlier as a bit for a site I lurk. I post a bit of a story for them every day, and needed filler for tomorrow. It are zombie apocalypse poem, kinda ¬¬

Under Crimson

It was on a still night I saw you there,
standing beneath a dead streetlamp on a corner,
lost, alone. Your hooded head was bathed in pale
moonlight, which shone on your frightened
face under your crimson hood.

The streets were empty, as they often are now,
covered in debris and death. I saw
your surprised face, when our eyes met.
We stood under the street light, and I led you home
to safety, where we hid in a crimson painted room.

The years passed, and we left our sanctuary,
and we found others like us, who longed for company
in those silent streets, where crimson stained dead walked.
Our numbers grew and yet we remained traveling,
Looking for a home in this bloodstained world.

I remember when I last saw you, beautiful you, and I hope
one day we shall meet again, in a brighter place, where
the only Crimson is on your hooded shirt, and people smile more.
I hope that perhaps we may stay together forever then, and
until then, perhaps it is the crimson that ties us.

But for now, I have this rose, Crimson of course,
which I give to you. I wish I had kissed you
when I had the chance. When you were still by my side,
and all the pain in the world was far away from us,
alien and nothing more than a shade of crimson.

You looked almost peaceful, as if you only slept.
I cried, and I kissed you as I should have, long ago.
As I sit at your grave, I remember that kiss, and how
my tears left streaks on your face, which stayed
motionless under a veil of shining crimson.

[razz]

There was a Body in the River

It must have come from upstream overnight, for I had stood on the riverbank the previous night, watching the bats fly in the fading mango sunset. There had been no dead body snagged there as I watched the sun sink behind a small tree studded hill, which had become little more than a black curve, cutting unto the mango hue, and later a compliment to the deep starry indigo. The moon had reflected off the flowing waters, which had been devoid of life, save for the occasional fish which flitted fleetingly across the surface, and the corpse had certainly not been there then either.

I had arrived at the camping spot around noon, yesterday. I liked being in the deep countryside of the forest, where there was nobody around to bother me, and really no signs of human presence save for the occasional drone of a wayward airplane, or the remains of a long-overgrown dirt road. I found an old cabin once, when I had first begun my venture into the wilderness, away from all the things that had filled me with a faithless grief – war, poverty, taxes, law, the Ice Capades – but hadn’t stayed long. I didn’t trust the place; it wasn’t far off a main road, and I didn’t trust roads either. People could come along, and that would ruin the entire point of leaving civilization behind After only a few days, I had packed up what I could scavenge from the house, and continued deeper into the woodland.
That was the last sign of civilization I had seen for several months, and now this cadaver, this corpse makes an appearance, pale and nearly naked. I sat on the riverbank, examining the lifeless figure. It bobbed face down in the water, waving with the current. The only thing which kept the current from taking it away was the only garment it wore: a pair of torn faded red boxer shorts caught on a branch jutting from a tree and into the stream. Its back was covered in gashes and lacerations, which gaped wide open; washed a clean pale pink by the current. The head was caved inwards, and a large portion of the lower back was chewed and ribbons of flesh hung freely, swaying in the water. It was pitiful and I hated it.

And why shouldn’t I? I had been free from the outbreak for months, safe and happy in the wilderness. I worked hard, and I enjoyed the few moments I could relax. I actually came to enjoy the fresh air and pleasant walks down old game trails. I’d hike for hours, looking for the perfect spot to settle down and set up camp, maybe for a week, or only a day. It was hard a lot, but I grew used to it. Instead of a radio, I’d tune in to the birds, and my evening news would be the melancholy chorus of a timber wolf, which could carry for miles on a still night, longer if I was downwind. My weather report was the activities of the wildlife, and the clouds in the distance. Everything I used to know and love seemed distant and alien to me now, as distant as the charcoal black smoke pillars rising from cancerous industrial parks, and the monotonous hopelessness of yesteryear.

But this corpse, this goddamned corpse was not distant, and it brought everything that I had brought everything I had left behind right back to me, packed like a disgusting present tied with a morbid little bow. It was a present I did not want. Why was that thing here, in my forest? What made it think it had the right to float there in this peaceful sanctuary? It angered me, and I briefly hoped it would somehow rise and wade through the current towards me so I could kill it a second time. But of course, it did not. It was a corpse after all.

I considered walking away, just turning around and packing up my belongings, leaving the cadaver to float at its leisure. I’d travel for a day and set up camp somewhere else, maybe the mountains or in a field of wild wheat. I could see myself doing it too. I couldn’t though, and I knew it. I could move hundreds of miles from this spot, but my mind would keep returning to the intruder, and it would certainly drive me mad.

I stood, and I looked around the riverbank for something to use as leverage, and spied a long, dead branch. I dug it out of the leaves and took it by the thick end, holding it like a spear. I slid down the muddy bank of the river, and stood on a small atoll of sand. I reached out with the stick and a jabbed the corpse. The end of my pole met where the branch was holding the corpse in place, and I poked the corpse several times. After a few tries, the stick freed the undergarments from the branch and the body tumbled away.

The body flipped over, revealing the gruesome front of the cadaver, covered in several more gashes and bites from countless scavenging fauna, and for a moment, I hated the pitiful mess even more. It was a powerful irrational rage I felt, and I suddenly wanted to dive into the river and mash the thing to a pulp. I almost did too, but the current took a firm hold of the body and pulled around the bend, and out of sight.

[razz]

a few thousand beam bucks to whoever tells me what this one means, cuz I'm at a loss xD

Listen.
Do you hear it?
That light drum beat,
echoing through the streets,
reverberate off walls and buildings, off
mountaintops and reflecting through hallways
and crawlspaces in every crack, nook, and cranny of the
city. The drumbeat cries, solid, unwavering, and I can see that
you can hear it, and feel as if you are drawn, to answer its shout with
your own in a powerful hoot or scream or bellow, but the question of whether
or not it is hear is both irrelevant, and generally redundant, for I know you can hear
it, as can everyone else. The real question, is whether or not you understand its meaning.

[flaggwalkstheline]

a few thousand beam bucks to whoever tells me what this one means, cuz I'm at a loss xD

Listen.
Do you hear it?
That light drum beat,
echoing through the streets,
reverberate off walls and buildings, off
mountaintops and reflecting through hallways
and crawlspaces in every crack, nook, and cranny of the
city. The drumbeat cries, solid, unwavering, and I can see that
you can hear it, and feel as if you are drawn, to answer its shout with
your own in a powerful hoot or scream or bellow, but the question of whether
or not it is hear is both irrelevant, and generally redundant, for I know you can hear
it, as can everyone else. The real question, is whether or not you understand its meaning.

I like that
I think it's about not understanding whats going on...

[razz]

idunnolol ¯\(°_o)/¯