hummingwolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hummingwolf) wrote2004-09-04 11:35 pm
hummingwolf) wrote2004-09-04 11:35 pm
Lies! Slander! Erm, wait... Libel!
See what this thing said about my friends? How dare it!
It says you people are over 78% normal! Normal? What a cruel thing to say! Any bunch of people who have Anne-Sophie in the top 20 interests can't possibly be normal! (To be fair, the meme's creator apparently says that the normality index is the most meaningless part of the thing.)
Because I'm a geek, I've forced MegaHAL to write poems about lies, slander, libel, and a hurricane.
The mystic drum beat in my eyes,
every night looks like tea for one day
now a separate entity, seemed not to wait till her mouth to see
a ball of brightness breaking, that's
lightning in the preheated oven, or
perhaps she's a daytime sleeper.
by my turning, you know what my heart and hope you got your lies
beside me, and i saw was sheer air
some bastard starts complaining.
~~~
I raise peacocks--
you can't tell the way you move, gonna make you groove.
oh, oh, child, way you shake that thing, gonna make you strong
but he noticed none of your enumerations!
what a world of spirits;
as tumbled over rim in roundy wells
stones in the 15th
century. Slander was relatively minor in its stead
set out in its sleep.
through the summer couples leaned into each other
heroes were taken from me
but time
spent in the desert where i wandered and listened
to mind against my will, like a broken dart
and i am still thy lover true,
and strange it was all between.
the bus must have been gone five months.
the shepherd
throws herself into
scent, tongues lolling. Ears
damp with their honor.
~~~
The cucumber-cool
brakeman in the dream.
the moments of brilliance
like the color of sleep--
the pinched armor of a spiraled shell.
hurricane weather, stewing
deep in shadow i stood.
"ugly work!" thought i,
this galaxy of dowdy customers.
some days her precision cuts
hang my heart and fancy swarm,
transfixed on mountain slopes almost erect.
across each other graon;
where was heard the mingled measure
from deep among peony pistils--
oh, he could feel where petals spread their softness,
gathered from windfalls of her children. When she was
first made between spoken injury--slander--and
printed or written injury--libel--soon after the
barbarian troops they fought. During the middle
ages dragon standards were filled with straw. Alas!
our dried voices, when
we whisper together
we slip back to reality, oh there goes gravity.
~~~
Sitting here feeding all these efforts
will tell you where you must take place
where the prince of make-believe
is considered a bird on a plate
the girl's a super freak
the ocean leans away, a backdrop.
i remembered again last night as she
stood, and relentless; in her ecstasy
a living person or--in criminal libel--blacken
the levels of the warped last
i have rattlesnake rattles and dinosaur bone.
hearts of sulfur and mushroom seed.
good fern jelly and honey stone.
nothing but rosy hands in the last gasp, of love's latest breath,
as you can plainly see.
someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the invisible line pulled taut that links them both.
~~~
Feel the sun sinks in the bazaar.
i'm not at the broken sticks moving by,
as only dogs know how long in the morning
of redundancy and obsolescence,
dead files and moved-on addresses
and you are given your slings. And this is the final addition, the failing
pride or resentment at failing powers,
the shorter rafters of a fool.
how fierce the hurricane season
the evil eye, and aquamarines ensured
a misconception i was alone through my head.
~~~
During the 1850s
successful in controlling pain in man because they
find us farther than the tom-tom
no matter what it can do miracles
just don't ask for no pity
we'd have been happy to know
that the lighthouse will keep shinin' out
to tell one's name--the livelong june--
to the forest.
the nurse grits her teeth, stubs out the humble place where the tv remote
waits by the fierce scrutiny
of a goat. There is no stir,
not beauty. It's my mother's watch. And look! My last, or
until the hurricane. I heard the waves.
~~~
She was amazed now that you care
and knocked by bullets shoulder first
stage in a form of a time that we trampled and tore
rock out of history
let's ride with the fortune of a toast and tea.
in the adriatic,
eyes raised to a universe
of immaterial trumpets high in the scenery
lips unseen--and kissed me and i need to urge it on!
that's like a needle
always pulling on the other ring,
forgot if we could not hear
i'm balanced between the lines
and found the one
you still get letters from your singular sleep, and murmur of a hurricane
approaches, winds diminish with amazing rapidity
from the meadow over.
blow, o blow, you happy winds,
singing summer's praises,
up all hours, but they'll never see bright colors on my still-flat belly.
the birds of prey,
rather than dissolving into it.
wealth and love me.
only now that i'm suffering.
Right then, back to checking out the progress ofhurrycane dawdlecane Frances.
It says you people are over 78% normal! Normal? What a cruel thing to say! Any bunch of people who have Anne-Sophie in the top 20 interests can't possibly be normal! (To be fair, the meme's creator apparently says that the normality index is the most meaningless part of the thing.)
Because I'm a geek, I've forced MegaHAL to write poems about lies, slander, libel, and a hurricane.
The mystic drum beat in my eyes,
every night looks like tea for one day
now a separate entity, seemed not to wait till her mouth to see
a ball of brightness breaking, that's
lightning in the preheated oven, or
perhaps she's a daytime sleeper.
by my turning, you know what my heart and hope you got your lies
beside me, and i saw was sheer air
some bastard starts complaining.
~~~
I raise peacocks--
you can't tell the way you move, gonna make you groove.
oh, oh, child, way you shake that thing, gonna make you strong
but he noticed none of your enumerations!
what a world of spirits;
as tumbled over rim in roundy wells
stones in the 15th
century. Slander was relatively minor in its stead
set out in its sleep.
through the summer couples leaned into each other
heroes were taken from me
but time
spent in the desert where i wandered and listened
to mind against my will, like a broken dart
and i am still thy lover true,
and strange it was all between.
the bus must have been gone five months.
the shepherd
throws herself into
scent, tongues lolling. Ears
damp with their honor.
~~~
The cucumber-cool
brakeman in the dream.
the moments of brilliance
like the color of sleep--
the pinched armor of a spiraled shell.
hurricane weather, stewing
deep in shadow i stood.
"ugly work!" thought i,
this galaxy of dowdy customers.
some days her precision cuts
hang my heart and fancy swarm,
transfixed on mountain slopes almost erect.
across each other graon;
where was heard the mingled measure
from deep among peony pistils--
oh, he could feel where petals spread their softness,
gathered from windfalls of her children. When she was
first made between spoken injury--slander--and
printed or written injury--libel--soon after the
barbarian troops they fought. During the middle
ages dragon standards were filled with straw. Alas!
our dried voices, when
we whisper together
we slip back to reality, oh there goes gravity.
~~~
Sitting here feeding all these efforts
will tell you where you must take place
where the prince of make-believe
is considered a bird on a plate
the girl's a super freak
the ocean leans away, a backdrop.
i remembered again last night as she
stood, and relentless; in her ecstasy
a living person or--in criminal libel--blacken
the levels of the warped last
i have rattlesnake rattles and dinosaur bone.
hearts of sulfur and mushroom seed.
good fern jelly and honey stone.
nothing but rosy hands in the last gasp, of love's latest breath,
as you can plainly see.
someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
the invisible line pulled taut that links them both.
~~~
Feel the sun sinks in the bazaar.
i'm not at the broken sticks moving by,
as only dogs know how long in the morning
of redundancy and obsolescence,
dead files and moved-on addresses
and you are given your slings. And this is the final addition, the failing
pride or resentment at failing powers,
the shorter rafters of a fool.
how fierce the hurricane season
the evil eye, and aquamarines ensured
a misconception i was alone through my head.
~~~
During the 1850s
successful in controlling pain in man because they
find us farther than the tom-tom
no matter what it can do miracles
just don't ask for no pity
we'd have been happy to know
that the lighthouse will keep shinin' out
to tell one's name--the livelong june--
to the forest.
the nurse grits her teeth, stubs out the humble place where the tv remote
waits by the fierce scrutiny
of a goat. There is no stir,
not beauty. It's my mother's watch. And look! My last, or
until the hurricane. I heard the waves.
~~~
She was amazed now that you care
and knocked by bullets shoulder first
stage in a form of a time that we trampled and tore
rock out of history
let's ride with the fortune of a toast and tea.
in the adriatic,
eyes raised to a universe
of immaterial trumpets high in the scenery
lips unseen--and kissed me and i need to urge it on!
that's like a needle
always pulling on the other ring,
forgot if we could not hear
i'm balanced between the lines
and found the one
you still get letters from your singular sleep, and murmur of a hurricane
approaches, winds diminish with amazing rapidity
from the meadow over.
blow, o blow, you happy winds,
singing summer's praises,
up all hours, but they'll never see bright colors on my still-flat belly.
the birds of prey,
rather than dissolving into it.
wealth and love me.
only now that i'm suffering.
Right then, back to checking out the progress of
no subject
no subject
I think. . .
Hmmm
Right!
no subject
no subject