From MegaHAL.
Doesn't make much sense to me, but anything with references to music, Avalon, and penguins is clearly meant by the electronic daemons as a message for
penguinboi, so who am I to argue?
Sing
sing a song.
la la la, oh music swims back to his face
means anything, then surely mine,
he'd keep on gazing at the equator.
although flightless, penguins probably descended
from flying ancestors whose wings
comes the wind
blows down off mt. Caribou
the ice was there,
so long?
because my love to her
it is all a test that i carry a sword, that i longed to talk to him?
was it humility, to feel so helpless just watching you
bring on the violet,
to soft growth twice constrain'd in leaf and flower,
dost dream in terraced avalon
a sense of being on a stone:
he did his very best to look at the musee d'orsay
among the boulders plays a blind-
fold game of life
to listen to me
deep
in the aspect and her eyes:
nothing of him that doth fade,
but it was you
in the mud?
in a man's desire
this is a penny earned.
------
I liked the imagery in last lines of another artificially unintelligent poem today:
"the brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
and the sliding of the milky way over the noodles."
Doesn't make much sense to me, but anything with references to music, Avalon, and penguins is clearly meant by the electronic daemons as a message for
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Sing
sing a song.
la la la, oh music swims back to his face
means anything, then surely mine,
he'd keep on gazing at the equator.
although flightless, penguins probably descended
from flying ancestors whose wings
comes the wind
blows down off mt. Caribou
the ice was there,
so long?
because my love to her
it is all a test that i carry a sword, that i longed to talk to him?
was it humility, to feel so helpless just watching you
bring on the violet,
to soft growth twice constrain'd in leaf and flower,
dost dream in terraced avalon
a sense of being on a stone:
he did his very best to look at the musee d'orsay
among the boulders plays a blind-
fold game of life
to listen to me
deep
in the aspect and her eyes:
nothing of him that doth fade,
but it was you
in the mud?
in a man's desire
this is a penny earned.
------
I liked the imagery in last lines of another artificially unintelligent poem today:
"the brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,
and the sliding of the milky way over the noodles."