"robotnik" poems - Hello Poetry

The Wyg burns the separate strands above a wooden pyre. The Wyg ushers in The Line. Mixing new colours with a robotnik slave-hand, the Wyg manipulates The Line as no other in existence has done before or since, except for Exalted Steve Ditko, he who studied with Exalted Paul Rubens. The Wyg pays credence to the commeroration of Mars, watching over its distant skies and hallowed sand dunes, which burn as only fires can. However, those of us with seeing stones where eyes ought to be can only see the embers that scatter across the wasteland, settling as the hallowed Mars-dust. In communication with the Mars Moth-Man, on nights where Earth-glow streaks across exalted Azuul, the Wyg scrapes Mars Moth-Man's moth wings for the powder of the scales and uses the powder for hallowed rites of manifestation. Only in the temples of Azuul can one conjure The Line, and many materials are required.

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Feb 17, 2023

Feb 17, 2023 at 5:10 PM UTC

Isaace

The Wyg— He Who Resides In Azuul

The Wyg burns the separate strands above a wooden pyre. The Wyg ushers in The Line. Mixing new colours with a robotnik slave-hand, the Wyg manipulates The Line as no other in existence has done before or since, except for Exalted Steve Ditko, he who studied with Exalted Paul Rubens. The Wyg pays credence to the commeroration of Mars, watching over its distant skies and hallowed sand dunes, which burn as only fires can. However, those of us with seeing stones where eyes ought to be can only see the embers that scatter across the wasteland, settling as the hallowed Mars-dust. In communication with the Mars Moth-Man, on nights where Earth-glow streaks across exalted Azuul, the Wyg scrapes Mars Moth-Man's moth wings for the powder of the scales and uses the powder for hallowed rites of manifestation. Only in the temples of Azuul can one conjure The Line, and many materials are required.

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No longer in that postition. (No longer robotnik— the robotnik man-clock.) No longer seated there— square— Fantasisng about The Line. We are no longer haunted by ******* imprints— Let it be said. Now control the ethereal days— When they come to pass. Now, manipulate The Line in new ways— If it does not break. The Line bends but it does not break because it bends for me now! And, at the end, decide whether or not it shall be perceived as real, Or merely perceived as a figment of the imagination. So now, we are in that position even when there is nothing there: We are peddling, or writing, Or etching a single line. And this is how we shall expand... Cycling past ourselves….

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Jan 31, 2023

Jan 31, 2023 at 6:54 PM UTC

Isaace

Cycle Past Yourself

No longer in that postition. (No longer robotnik— the robotnik man-clock.) No longer seated there— square— Fantasisng about The Line. We are no longer haunted by ******* imprints— Let it be said. Now control the ethereal days— When they come to pass. Now, manipulate The Line in new ways— If it does not break. The Line bends but it does not break because it bends for me now! And, at the end, decide whether or not it shall be perceived as real, Or merely perceived as a figment of the imagination. So now, we are in that position even when there is nothing there: We are peddling, or writing, Or etching a single line. And this is how we shall expand... Cycling past ourselves….

18

Robotnik soul, rejoice! for we have lifted our cbyernetic hand. Connected to the edge of infinity, our slave-hand is lifted and shifted! Mothered by wires we be— join us! Our eyes glow like the burning coals which lit the primordial beaches upon which Man first copulated with technology. We are at the mercy of the mechanical spider, Hansrubik. All hail Hansrubik, our arachnid slave-master!

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Jul 27, 2024

Jul 27, 2024 at 8:37 AM UTC

Isaace

Cybernetic Future

Robotnik soul, rejoice! for we have lifted our cbyernetic hand. Connected to the edge of infinity, our slave-hand is lifted and shifted! Mothered by wires we be— join us! Our eyes glow like the burning coals which lit the primordial beaches upon which Man first copulated with technology. We are at the mercy of the mechanical spider, Hansrubik. All hail Hansrubik, our arachnid slave-master!

6