Fate's Quill
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Distributed Denial-of-Poetry Attack
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Hello, Dalí!
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Eat Verse You Hack
I sent each person one line and asked them to think of a follow-up. Then I put them together. Unattributed lines are mine, about one per stanza - they were written before the players began contributing.
I'm sorry I couldn't include everybody in this little exercise. The logistics of it were just too difficult. There are 100 of you.
To the players:
First of all, many thanks for your participation. You all did very well, and the resulting mish-mash is way better than I expected.
Secondly, you may notice that I mutilated your words a bit. This was mostly to work out irregularities in meter, but also to tweak some inconsistencies between lines. I'm sorry if my changes make your blood boil. You have my permission to downvote up to 10 (ten) of my writeups.
these poems make a little too much sense.
the first poem is
omegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pie
While cryptanalysts in go-go boots recalculate the tide,
Pharmacists on pogo sticks mock those who never tried.
They cruise downtown to get themselves a leg of chicken fried -
Pumpin' up the bass beats, gettin' them sterilized.
Below the surf, Poisedon sings about a virgin bride;
Enciphered strippers dancing 'round him accentuate the slide.
Curséd is the bride-to-be that bears a blood-free guilt
But that's okay; I'll just take my tool and thrust it to the hilt;
Because I know you like the feel of a minstrel so well built
When night and dream reveal the tongues of angels on your quilt.
They tied me down and bade me drink a poison (flavored lime),
And though the hempen ropes did chafe, I'd thank them for this crime.
Above me swirled the Milky Way, majestic and sublime;
Upon the fertile ground I lay and tapped my toes in time.
"Get off that cloud! I'll not stand down as mortals claim the sky,
Eat this bread and drink this water - that's fantastic fucking rye.
Be not proud! Beneath your cities deception and assassins lie -
omegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pomegranite pie."
the second poem is
The Saucing of the Gander is Rarely Overlooked
There comes a time when every man must set his house ablaze
To pull his roots and start a journey that lasts for many days.
The flesh that beats against the rock is hard with ancient callous,
The skin that creeps upon the bone is filled with aching malice.
He wears his boots and flags a lorry to drive himself away;
With armored heart and dreams of glory he'll find his life one day.
But flashing lights are booze-keen cops, so is his goose not cooked?
Could the Jack Daniels bottle between his legs really be overlooked?
He longs to see it pass from him, this dire and poisoned chalice,
But takes it in to cure his heart from everlasting malice.
Outside the car, be ready, for you know that you are hooked
And the saucing of the gander is rarely overlooked.
From 'round the bend, a familiar whoop - a troupe of drunken nuns!
His knives gone dull and knuckles sore, he'd nothing left but guns.
Pistols spoke and sisters fell - the order is undone!
He'll march today toward sacred land, and battles yet to come.
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