I love this thing:
http://www.languageisavirus.com/auto...generator.html
Basically this thing generates a truly random poem each time you go to the site.
should warn that the second poem I posted starts with a minor NSFW.
Strangely dry over the flock
So comely behind the towers
We lick colorful children near the spirits
We Reach! The fun is fleeing
Weird and dazzling below the spirits
I invoke big tentacles near the mist
Awaken! The thought is born
Strangely dry over the flock
You draw sinning keys against the slime
Way cool! The life is going
wavering tired
crossing the frontier
sun on his face
Under what skies
the face in your mirror
go without luggage
before help could come
Let's try another
(wow this one starts kind of dirty)
All violet near the flock
Dark and huge before the virgin
We breed dank women before the slime
Alass, Alack! The feeling is no more
So wanting in the mud
We speak to quaking tentacles before the shadows
Ahhh! The insanity is gone
All violet near the flock
You stroke odorous evil below the flock
Awake! The birth has fled
shadowed wanting
trying to recall
a backward glance
In whose eyes
such a man
miss his chance
while the world changed
http://www.languageisavirus.com/auto...generator.html
Basically this thing generates a truly random poem each time you go to the site.
should warn that the second poem I posted starts with a minor NSFW.
Strangely dry over the flock
So comely behind the towers
We lick colorful children near the spirits
We Reach! The fun is fleeing
Weird and dazzling below the spirits
I invoke big tentacles near the mist
Awaken! The thought is born
Strangely dry over the flock
You draw sinning keys against the slime
Way cool! The life is going
wavering tired
crossing the frontier
sun on his face
Under what skies
the face in your mirror
go without luggage
before help could come
Let's try another
(wow this one starts kind of dirty)
All violet near the flock
Dark and huge before the virgin
We breed dank women before the slime
Alass, Alack! The feeling is no more
So wanting in the mud
We speak to quaking tentacles before the shadows
Ahhh! The insanity is gone
All violet near the flock
You stroke odorous evil below the flock
Awake! The birth has fled
shadowed wanting
trying to recall
a backward glance
In whose eyes
such a man
miss his chance
while the world changed
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