hummingwolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hummingwolf) wrote2004-11-02 09:14 pm
hummingwolf) wrote2004-11-02 09:14 pm
ElectionHAL
Oh, you knew it was coming. MegaHAL wrote a few poems around election-related keywords today (poor HAL) and some of them must be posted. I shall resist the urge to repeat the one about a certain political party being born in hell, but the one beginning with "Georgie Porgie" gets posted. (Apologies to Naderites: Neither his name nor the word "populist" made it into the database. Actually, I'm surprised that "populist" wasn't there already.)
vote
Georgie porgie, pudding and pie,
i desired my dust to lie,
till we touched land, and my parents, and their parents,
there--and then, at a distance, you look like me and we tumble to the zombie a cure or
the vote of those formally qualified to participate.
elections are widely held in the loud fronds. They hum
i am the wings.
~~~
election
So you stole my world
this mysterious whirling planet.
and here i stay
each tea lasts an hour and he sits and he gave her something queer to eat,
and the greasy smoke in an election
is over there. The issue was decided here:
two roads diverged in a monster of despair.
he bore a green-white stick in his tent.
beneath the acorn-dropping oaks, in green--
as i have seen night lifted in thine arms.
~~~
democratic
The pot calls the tribe of children in the democratic
party's efforts to gain power and motion
of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
above the frozen sheets of clouds,
and everyone wears headphones, though the nets of wrong and nothing's good enough
to the thigh of the crowd pushes forward, demanding
to compass my content.
the lame and dreamy goat
i'm guided by a bright red sports car
idles, idles on the lights
warm skin, making
a lonely feeling.
~~~
green
1 Big eggplant, 1 small onion
3-4 green chilies
coriander leaves
of blankets, winter bedclothes which mother had not spilt.
the economy was up. Flags whipped in every raven tress,
or not to believe you can trust yourself when all men and young girls
and that has ever happened to us
yes to the idol electric
cower in terror at the bottom of a
bird
who was now the turning tide will take up that heavy poem again.
~~~
libertarian
Libertarian party, a political
group in the sands where the smoke blows black
it's only a few
points, bloody ones
under the artist's alchemy.
~~~
republican
Squint your eyes and voice, so strange, they haunt me now--
the vampire who said he was old and malformed.
his whole demeanor seems to happen fast:
men, troops of men in heels.
i'm stone. I'm flesh.
there's nothing wrong with me
who hunger
of welcome suddenly amid the alien corn;
the frontiers are my love
it wasn't very loud
necktie in the hidden corners of the republican party lay in the branches that are very like
another all
because they fall from the stockyards
and bowery hollows crowned with chateaus
or cold. On the shore, it's so quiet
and a little sooner than the day
into a fine silk camisole.
boy breaks one open with the giddy sun
it is 5 a.m. All the more i feel
i wonder if she'll take me to do after firing. But today,
today we have fallen asleep
shut your eyes
the rich have got their channels in the dark; the vast walls of this type
can be through hours of insight will'd
can hear, yet no one around."
then the drinks are on the waves;
where falls not hail, or rain, or any snows,
nor harmless worms that creep.
~~~
bush
All afternoon i thought i heard and answered all the night
don't ask for much.
even as if by the tumtum tree,
the chuckle of the bush,
sing louder around,
that my old man sitting there on his lonely journey;
how easy all can see
my way to deceive
the grunt of unity comes the valley
of the riding thames.
after all i know, he is a joyful comrade.
besides these five companions, what other pleasure should i try and some boys lie but
i see their hungry eyes
look up to my middle.
oh, what a beautiful world
and i'll bury my soul in this prairie town so far
beyond mere universe.
i drank them to her sides with cords,
she guzzles cold drinks
and memories are laid.
~~~
kerry
The pen is mightier than the unquestioning descent
into small dune patches around the town
and i say a carnation!
fruit, i say!
and the bank of turned clay
spread his wash on the peaks of kerry
spear the clouds but your hopes go down to electric avenue
and our hearts, though stout and brave,
still like muffled drums, are beating
funeral marches to the brim;
i've bitten it. I hate hearing your voice in your little pins in that poisonous wave,
and it was
sunstruck once, and totally.
nobody understands it.
~~~
Yes, I freely admit that I am easily amused.
vote
Georgie porgie, pudding and pie,
i desired my dust to lie,
till we touched land, and my parents, and their parents,
there--and then, at a distance, you look like me and we tumble to the zombie a cure or
the vote of those formally qualified to participate.
elections are widely held in the loud fronds. They hum
i am the wings.
~~~
election
So you stole my world
this mysterious whirling planet.
and here i stay
each tea lasts an hour and he sits and he gave her something queer to eat,
and the greasy smoke in an election
is over there. The issue was decided here:
two roads diverged in a monster of despair.
he bore a green-white stick in his tent.
beneath the acorn-dropping oaks, in green--
as i have seen night lifted in thine arms.
~~~
democratic
The pot calls the tribe of children in the democratic
party's efforts to gain power and motion
of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
above the frozen sheets of clouds,
and everyone wears headphones, though the nets of wrong and nothing's good enough
to the thigh of the crowd pushes forward, demanding
to compass my content.
the lame and dreamy goat
i'm guided by a bright red sports car
idles, idles on the lights
warm skin, making
a lonely feeling.
~~~
green
1 Big eggplant, 1 small onion
3-4 green chilies
coriander leaves
of blankets, winter bedclothes which mother had not spilt.
the economy was up. Flags whipped in every raven tress,
or not to believe you can trust yourself when all men and young girls
and that has ever happened to us
yes to the idol electric
cower in terror at the bottom of a
bird
who was now the turning tide will take up that heavy poem again.
~~~
libertarian
Libertarian party, a political
group in the sands where the smoke blows black
it's only a few
points, bloody ones
under the artist's alchemy.
~~~
republican
Squint your eyes and voice, so strange, they haunt me now--
the vampire who said he was old and malformed.
his whole demeanor seems to happen fast:
men, troops of men in heels.
i'm stone. I'm flesh.
there's nothing wrong with me
who hunger
of welcome suddenly amid the alien corn;
the frontiers are my love
it wasn't very loud
necktie in the hidden corners of the republican party lay in the branches that are very like
another all
because they fall from the stockyards
and bowery hollows crowned with chateaus
or cold. On the shore, it's so quiet
and a little sooner than the day
into a fine silk camisole.
boy breaks one open with the giddy sun
it is 5 a.m. All the more i feel
i wonder if she'll take me to do after firing. But today,
today we have fallen asleep
shut your eyes
the rich have got their channels in the dark; the vast walls of this type
can be through hours of insight will'd
can hear, yet no one around."
then the drinks are on the waves;
where falls not hail, or rain, or any snows,
nor harmless worms that creep.
~~~
bush
All afternoon i thought i heard and answered all the night
don't ask for much.
even as if by the tumtum tree,
the chuckle of the bush,
sing louder around,
that my old man sitting there on his lonely journey;
how easy all can see
my way to deceive
the grunt of unity comes the valley
of the riding thames.
after all i know, he is a joyful comrade.
besides these five companions, what other pleasure should i try and some boys lie but
i see their hungry eyes
look up to my middle.
oh, what a beautiful world
and i'll bury my soul in this prairie town so far
beyond mere universe.
i drank them to her sides with cords,
she guzzles cold drinks
and memories are laid.
~~~
kerry
The pen is mightier than the unquestioning descent
into small dune patches around the town
and i say a carnation!
fruit, i say!
and the bank of turned clay
spread his wash on the peaks of kerry
spear the clouds but your hopes go down to electric avenue
and our hearts, though stout and brave,
still like muffled drums, are beating
funeral marches to the brim;
i've bitten it. I hate hearing your voice in your little pins in that poisonous wave,
and it was
sunstruck once, and totally.
nobody understands it.
~~~
Yes, I freely admit that I am easily amused.
no subject
and i say a carnation!
fruit, i say!
I don't know why, but that made me laugh out loud. When I read it, I heard Kerry's voice saying it. :-)
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no subject
megaHAL rocks :)
no subject