667

Last night I was sifting through some old-old papers and books in my office and ran across some treasures that I have not laid eyes on in over twelve years. Every time I see these three numbers I always remember good times in the company of friends. 667, Neighbor of The Beast Productions was the brain trust of three like minded and very talented people. It was an ambitious project that unfortunately never really got off the ground but it was a really fun project to work on. The basic principal of the endeavor was to produce and self-publish our writing possibly making a profit in the process. It's too bad that a group of young adults with no professional experience or contacts just did not know the first thing about how to go about making it work. In any event, I have put up a few samples of what we did those years ago for nostalgia. Any of the original authors are more than welcome to have all of the work that I have collected sent to them and you also have the right to have me take your entry off of this page. I hope you are more flattered than angry!

Neighbor collaboration

THE RIDE- by A.C. Baker

and J.A. Chesney

One way or another, everyone goes for the ride.

For some, the ride is short

For others, long.

Most all of us fear the end.

Because we know it’s a one way trip.

No one gets off ‘till it’s over,

And no one ever comes back.

Some find great wealth along the way,

Some find gutters to sleep in.

The ride itself is different for us all,

But the end result is always the same.

Be you man, boy, woman, or girl

You are already on the ride,

But none of us are really in the drivers seat.

And we’ll all find out what the end is...

...Soon enough.

667, Neighbor of The Beast Productions. LTD.

E.P. Schudlich

LIFE, WHAT IS IT WORTH?

“Life, what is it worth? Is death the most terrible thing?” I think many people have pondered over these two simple questions. Many of these people probably faced great dispair or tragedy at the time they questioned life and its worth. I believe that life is very cheap and pointless. One lifeform feeds off another in an endless circle. Like a dog chasing it’s tail, life is completely without meaning. Organisms, no matter how simple or complex, are born only to die after a short period of life. To me, life is utterly worthless because it is so unnecessary. In the eyes of the eternal universe, life is nothing but cheap fodder to be thrown to the hungry jaws of death. And what of death? Is it the most terrible thing? I would say that death is not the most terrible thing to be faced in life. Rather, it’s the anguish and suffering, both mental and physical, that’s endured while living that is most terrible. Life fears death because physical pain is associated with it, but once life becomes death what difference does it make?

E. Schudlich III

J.A. Chesney

Right! - by J.A. Chesney

You’re always right,

And whether you’re right

or exactly right,

You’re still right.

But sometimes you’re just right,

But right just the same,

And sometimes you’re quite right,

But never almost right,

And NEVER like me,

Because you’re right,

And when you’re right,

you’re right.

And you,

You’re always right.

-----------------------------------------------------

1996- by J.A. Chesney

I don’t want to see what will be,

Don’t want to know what lies ahead

One more year, will it ever get better?

I don’t think it will

New years kisses,

Lots of beer and champagne,

But not one kiss,

And not a drop for me

I don’t want to do it all over again,

One more year,

I’m tired, I’m alone,

Tears drying in my eyes,

Happy new year

A.C. Baker

ALONE- by A.C. Baker

Alone.

No thoughts.

No wants.

No desires.

Alone.

Nothingness.

Unblinking.

Only breathing.

Barely.

Alone.

Heart slowing.

Slower still.

Stopped.

Alone.

Cold.

Still.

No tears.

Darkness.

Alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------

WAR - by A.C. Baker

On the ground, there he lay.

With nowhere to go, nothing to say.

Blood was soaked into the stone,

The bodies around him were nothing but bones.

There in the silence he wanted to cry,

Not one tear left his eye.

He rose to his feet and looked around,

The carnage he saw held him spellbound.

One by one shots were fired,

The ending result was what he desired.

He fell to the ground, his soul was gone.

And with his death, came the dawn.

GLFWDA

Artists

I recently ran across some work from these awesome artists and thought I would throw up some of their work here.

Richard Yang:

Florin Badita:

Darryl Taylor: