hummingwolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hummingwolf) wrote2005-09-18 08:07 pm
hummingwolf) wrote2005-09-18 08:07 pm
Big Harvest
Harvest moon,
begins to curl toward your heart;
naked nonduality dawns within;
while elements exhaust their element: drop
like a rumor without any echo
of enemy tent-poles. You brooded in the night
like we have stayed at home and continue it.
--MegaHAL
On Weather Underground, they have storm advisories for the following: Tropical Storm Philippe and Tropical Storm Rita in the North Atlantic; Hurricane Kenneth, Tropical Depression Lidia, and Tropical Storm Max in the East Pacific; Tropical Depression Vicente in the Western Pacific; and Hurricane Jova in the Central Pacific. Anyone else finding this really, really impressive?
Higher up, we have a good chance of more solar flares coming from "hyperactive sunspot" 798, plus (of course) a lovely Harvest Moon.
In a completely unrelated link, Eternity Travel will "give the discerning, God(s)-fearing ancient Egyptian consumer the tools and information to plan for a safe, speedy, comfortable trip to the afterlife." Be sure to look for the promotion code so you can get extra debens to pay for your tomb and mummification. And remember: Unused debens are non-transferable and are not considered legal tender in the afterlife.
In honor of tonight's moon, MegaHAL has more poetry for anyone interested:
The harvest moon has been inscribed
below this thirsty, thrift-encrusted height,
where several varieties were raised to produce
mechanical trick
could be established by breaking crumbs
off the wooden salad bowl:
so i could not love the gods is up in pieces.
no, sit tight here, guard your own shoes
if odysseus had returned intact with his brother.
~~~
To the little elfin face of time
always here to drink the harvest is over
i'm lovin' it
too high
and donated to the water.
~~~
Deep inside she sang, the goddess roamed through town,
except old women gathering herbs on the roof
sheltering the harvest-hut
of friendship:
in the genius of the same, i walked through doors marked no admittance.
~~~
Harvest moon--
when the lights are soft with sorrow,
have out our washing
machine wash cold
and salt spray sweeps the unattended decks.
shouts of dead leaves crawls;
or do you cook rice
stuck in the skies.
i can write this. Our names on the sea
joy to you who are rich,
for art is a luscious triangle;
it's cut to the soul of the longest river
the opulent horizon and obedient skies
which may not have a garret of old time were
woven by ladies in their eyes
ponder our love. Touch my feet and wheels.
now...
only stars and of rain,
with ruins piled and unapparent woe,
gloriously you are where
last summer scrubbing mud from potatoes
and wondering if you hear that? Real pulpit talk:
you must accept gently like a puff
and they gazed in wide wonder, at the very model of a razor trying to get things done. You're a pro.
~~~
Harvest moon,
there ain't a woman to blame,
if she slight me when he bent him over the railing
the women giggling, the men pretending calm,
with sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew,
we must at last to hold in light esteem,
and honored among wagons i was too great
is the world single-handedly
raise a glass, enjoy the scenery
stretched from the fondling of silk stockings,
and to terrify the sky
the bottom of the south,
wolf of the sun,
they hadn't any feet.
something like your mother.
begins to curl toward your heart;
naked nonduality dawns within;
while elements exhaust their element: drop
like a rumor without any echo
of enemy tent-poles. You brooded in the night
like we have stayed at home and continue it.
--MegaHAL
On Weather Underground, they have storm advisories for the following: Tropical Storm Philippe and Tropical Storm Rita in the North Atlantic; Hurricane Kenneth, Tropical Depression Lidia, and Tropical Storm Max in the East Pacific; Tropical Depression Vicente in the Western Pacific; and Hurricane Jova in the Central Pacific. Anyone else finding this really, really impressive?
Higher up, we have a good chance of more solar flares coming from "hyperactive sunspot" 798, plus (of course) a lovely Harvest Moon.
In a completely unrelated link, Eternity Travel will "give the discerning, God(s)-fearing ancient Egyptian consumer the tools and information to plan for a safe, speedy, comfortable trip to the afterlife." Be sure to look for the promotion code so you can get extra debens to pay for your tomb and mummification. And remember: Unused debens are non-transferable and are not considered legal tender in the afterlife.
In honor of tonight's moon, MegaHAL has more poetry for anyone interested:
The harvest moon has been inscribed
below this thirsty, thrift-encrusted height,
where several varieties were raised to produce
mechanical trick
could be established by breaking crumbs
off the wooden salad bowl:
so i could not love the gods is up in pieces.
no, sit tight here, guard your own shoes
if odysseus had returned intact with his brother.
~~~
To the little elfin face of time
always here to drink the harvest is over
i'm lovin' it
too high
and donated to the water.
~~~
Deep inside she sang, the goddess roamed through town,
except old women gathering herbs on the roof
sheltering the harvest-hut
of friendship:
in the genius of the same, i walked through doors marked no admittance.
~~~
Harvest moon--
when the lights are soft with sorrow,
have out our washing
machine wash cold
and salt spray sweeps the unattended decks.
shouts of dead leaves crawls;
or do you cook rice
stuck in the skies.
i can write this. Our names on the sea
joy to you who are rich,
for art is a luscious triangle;
it's cut to the soul of the longest river
the opulent horizon and obedient skies
which may not have a garret of old time were
woven by ladies in their eyes
ponder our love. Touch my feet and wheels.
now...
only stars and of rain,
with ruins piled and unapparent woe,
gloriously you are where
last summer scrubbing mud from potatoes
and wondering if you hear that? Real pulpit talk:
you must accept gently like a puff
and they gazed in wide wonder, at the very model of a razor trying to get things done. You're a pro.
~~~
Harvest moon,
there ain't a woman to blame,
if she slight me when he bent him over the railing
the women giggling, the men pretending calm,
with sidelong flowing flakes that flock, pause and renew,
we must at last to hold in light esteem,
and honored among wagons i was too great
is the world single-handedly
raise a glass, enjoy the scenery
stretched from the fondling of silk stockings,
and to terrify the sky
the bottom of the south,
wolf of the sun,
they hadn't any feet.
something like your mother.
no subject
no subject
Ooh, Philippe is a hurricane now. Since it's nowhere near a land mass, hardly anybody cares.