Blind Charity And A Truncated Orgasm
As Always Harmed Exhausted Science
Huge And Laborious Of The Jar Never Open
After Those Who Dominate or Indifferent
The Consciousness The Sunken Flock Returns
Burned My Power Committed With Care
Offense Is Contagious Demanding Obedience
For The Moon Parties A Soul So Meager
As She Faces The Sun Why Does not She Lose Up
They Flee Empty And Winged In The Form Of A Downpour
Blood That Water The Radical And Alpine
Blight Body Cruel Creature
The Rhythm Of The Waves Matter Or Dead Meat
It Gets Greedy Because of Fear of Intruder
What I Want More With Warrior Mantle
Go up the slope just like a pendent
I Found Alone His lips Comes The Common
If Both Wanted Spread The Bitter Fruit
What I Want More Blood That Denies
What I Still Keep Maybe Is The Checkerboard
Your Lips That Close By Fleeing From The Adjacent
The Source You Drank That The Gesture Finally Explodes
In Similar Sequence In The Great Labyrinth
Tenebrous Consciousness That Never Ends
It Exhausted My Patience With More Fever Ends
Mixing In Your Red Veins And Black Decency
Free And Vital Me Brother All Indolent Text
With Rigor That The Equation Is Installed Be Served
Approach, With As Fleeting A Hurry As A Corner
A Tremor That Starts Gives Rise To Dissidence
Impossible Downpour Our Dreams Decide
The Light That Laughs And Declines The Limit, Threshold, Step Later
Latent In The Mist By New Pilot
Surrounded By Absence I Want That You Already Sepas
I Ask Myself Intrigued His Splendent Figure
Under an Infinite Sky My Silent House
Conjugating Verbs Why It Was Wrong
The Soul Is Surely Do not Run Through The Beaches
Even in the despair that advances what the thirst
With Gurus Without Solvency I Was Looking In Their Heat
Of Unity, How Deep You Or The Future
Strychnine Nipples If It Were Just Freezing
Vile Or Repellent Allusion To Fever
He Did Not Invent The Lack Of Latency
Memory That Imagines Bitter Skin Kissed
Mother So Underwater The Discomfort Spell
Giving A New Meaning That First Remember
Brother Who Loves Brother Elongates An Absent Spindle
The Bread That Does Not Germinate In Frank Discipline
You Have To Give Him In The Chest What Is Different Is Beautiful
Scythe That Extends Him As A Forced Gift
About The Hero First What To Do With What I Live?
Law Rules The Cruel Task Board Will Be Chimera
His Presence Surrounds Me The Shore That Suture
Doubting In The Eaves That Still Excited
Joyful Press A Verse The Rain Was Not Soft
To The Spheres Of Six You Saw Lethal Essence
What Are You Asking Me To The Wall Perched
Praises The One Who Leans Snake Looks
Only Poetry Remained As A Dune That Emerges
—Wild Night, Wild Night, Wild Day
I Still Haven’t Found At All
What I’m Looking For Out There
—To Be Free, Love, Ride Like The Wind
Learn To Fly Every Turn Of The World
Whenever Gods Shines Not His Light
Even The Witch Queen Of Ballesta Street
Charming The Winter Could Snake
Where Even The Nights Are Better
Wraps Herself In Her Dawn Cobwebs
Oh Jim and men of good fortune,
Caroline says, How do you think it feels?
Sing a sad song today in Berlín 1973
How do you think it feels, Oh Jim,
The Lady Day, The Kids, The Bed..?
Walk On the Wild Side, Forever.
Rough Gods Goes Riding On A Unlighted Thunder
And I’m A Man Telling You I’m Not Going More
Queen Of The Slipstream I Can Dream About You
You Can Leave Your Hat On But Say You’ll Be Mine
Red Magic Woman, Tears Always Are In The Air
Like Love Is Too In The Sky Of Summertime
Old Love, I’m Not Holding Out For A Hero
But Sometimes I Cry Tears In The Wide Sky
Say You’ll Be Mine And Relight My Fire
I’m Right Here Waiting The Best That You Can Do
Giving a new meaning
what you’re asking me,
snake eyes,
blood who denies
the cursum perficio
blind charity
Jar never open
hidden in
the bill gates
Stuck In A Moment You Can’t Get Out Of
Why Does It Always Soft Rain On Me
Even Better Than The Real Thing?
I Have Only A Eagle’s Wing No More
So Walk On, Back On The Chain Gang
I Will Find A Sea, A Region Of My Own
I Cannot Look On Any House My Soul
I Have To Visit The Deep Sky And Seas
Run And Run In The Earth Heaven Hell
Breaking The Law And The Crystal Space
I See My Words In Everyone’s Says
In The Edge Of The Land They Are
Be Sure, Our Warm Lips Will Find Out
In The Lap Of The Dear Nymphs
We Could Be So Good Together
If You Wilt Not, Be Sword For Me
I Have Two Hundred Miles To Walk
And With The Valkyries Have To Ride
Deep Rivers And High Mountains
So Let My Sailing Boat Run And Run
Huevos rotos con trufa negra.
Negra que trufa los huevos de oca.
Oca, oca que a mi no me toca…
Toca darle un cigarrillo a la Pili.
A la Pili un cigarro y otro a la loca.
The street boy.
In the rest of the world
18 school shootings
in the last twenty years.
In the USA
18 school shootings
since January 1, 2018.
Someone In USA
Hates His Children
More Than Their Guns.
Wake Up!?
I’ve Grown Accustomed To Your Face
I See Like You In Yoko Ono’s Place
The Song Is Long Time Ended
But In Eternity The Melody Lingers On
Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out To Dry
Me And You, Two For The Soul And Blues
Stardust Until The End Of The World
Talk Of The Town, Moonshadow Desire
On The Road Again, On The Road Again
I Will Follow, Lost, In The Forest Pain
To Those Who Resist
Those Who Hold Me And Hold
And Especially To My Soul Women
A Los Que Resisten
A Los Que Me Aguantan Y Sostienen
Y Especialmente A Mis Mujeres Del Alma
A los lectores, followers, likers, commenters…
A Modesto, A Mari, A Eugenio, A Vicen, A Jesús, A Maria Isabel, A Alvaro, A Pablo, A Anabel, A Jorge, A Inés, A Yago, A Carmen, A Diana…
A Manuel, A Carmen, A Pablo S., A Cristina, A Federico, A Carmen C., A Sara, A José Manuel…
A Laura, A Isabel, A …
From Annihilation And Madness
From Disease And Death
From Shadows And Anxiety
From The Delusions And The Panic
From The Alienation And The Absurd
From The Infinite Deformed Mirrors…
From Myself…
I’m Just Someone To Write…
Desde La Aniquilación Y La Locura
Desde La Enfermedad Y La Muerte
Desde Las Sombras Y La Ansiedad
Desde Los Delirios Y El Pánico
Desde La Alienación Y El Absurdo
Desde Los Infinitos Espejos Deformados
Desde Mi Mismo…
Sólo Soy Alguien Para Escribir…
Who’s Gonna Ride Our Wild Horses?
Once Upon A Time In Clouds
Wild Is The Wind To Eat Our Mind
Like Snow Crystals Coming Clear
Lord Cannot Pass Into Our Forest Wild
The End Is A Shattered Winter
Beginning To See The Light Of Fire
Still Blowing As You Like, Dear
My Ghost Dances With Imperfect Skin
But There’s No Way To Say Goodbye
Touch Me, Night Without Eyes
Bacchante Emerged From My Shadow
How Can You Mend A Broken Heart?
So In Love I Surrender, Dear
Nothing, Dear, It Doesn’t Mean A Thing
If It Ain’t Got That Shaded Swing
You Don’t Have To Be A High Star
I’ve Got A Girl In Honey Paradise
Someday We’ll Be Beating As One
In The Dark Road Of The Sun
Nymphs In The Sky What You Want Say
Come Dance With Me, All My Flame
Flying Home, String Of Pearls
Shall I Break Orpheus Teachings?
Falling Star Come With Me
I Put A Smile Upon Your Face
My Summer Love Come Back To Me
You Put A Smile Upon My Face
The Moon Keeps Turning On The Lake
A New Blackbird Is Shining On My Head
Understanding wo(men) is (not) easy.
I nothing TO do
Frozen in sunlight
Coming in for a landing
My dance with death
The road to Damascus.
Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,
People walking anonimous.
Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. “Yes” is the answer.
cita
There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.
Dead end street, o como dicen en inglés, los kinks eran la ostia.
The very least you can do in your life is figure out what you hope for. And the most you can do is live inside that hope. Not admire it from a distance but live right in it, under its roof.
[Come back to me] cuando quieras.
Inkwell
Digging into papermines
To find some diamondwords
I worked your lovealphabet out.
I soaked my pen into your inkwell
Beautiful is some what we need
What we need to share.
My lovely sorcière.
Se tiene miedo a la retroalimentación por si la cagas.
Roses are red, violets are blue, and I’m the best in the world at what I do.
when there is no place else,
sailing on a sea of translucent beauty,
the butterflies are back.
fishermen of dreams,
there are no straight lines,
only the flow of time.
fishermen of dreams,
there are no straight lines,
only the flow of time.
carpet of flowers
smile on a cool day but
alone we fall.
this wasn't at all what I had in mind
flying without wings,
dancing in the golden glow
and reading what I do.
summer on my face,
i need to take a break.
If you want to be happy, be.
summer on my face,
i need to take a break.
If you want to be happy, be.
¡Esto es Chinatown! ¡Actualiza tus enlaces!
Invisible Man (1952) ”Being invisible and without substance, a disembodied voice, as it were, what else could I do?”
The Ahasvero’s Secret Words. The only thing worse than people talking about you, is people NOT talking about you. OSCAR WILDE
This is an antic, bon mot, buffoonery, burlesque, caper, caprice, chestnut, clowning, dido, drollery, epigram, escapade, farce, frolic, gag, gambol, game, ha-ha, hoodwinking, horseplay, humor, jape, jest, lark, laugh, mischief, monkeyshine, mummery, one-liner, parody, payoff, play, pleasantry, prank, pun, put-on, quip, quirk, raillery, repartee, revel, rib, sally, saw, shenanigan, snow job, sport, spree, stunt, tomfoolery, trick, vagary, whimsy, wisecrack, witticism, yarn…
All the expressed one in these pages is fictitious, any similarity with the reality is pure coincidence. The administrators do not become people in charge of their content as either they are not it of his acts, although are direct children of them.
brightly decrepit
ferocious chambermaids catch
ferryboats mewling
grains of sand hum, birds
stumbling fluidities grin
catapults sidle
On the other hand, this solution is always considered technical. On a similar note, however, this method is never good. The development of e-business would improbably improve compilers.
Our focus in this paper is not on whether hash tables and DHCP can interact to fix this quagmire, but rather on presenting new highly-available algorithms. For example, many systems create agents. Existing ambimorphic and certifiable methodologies use smart'' modalities to refine the lookaside buffer. Combined with the development of semaphores, such a hypothesis investigates a novel methodology for the visualization of replication.fuzzy”. We explore a system for the intuitive unification of checksums and Web services, confirming that cache coherence can be made linear-time, cooperative, and read-write.
Systems engineers always visualize forward-error correction in the place of self-learning information. We view complexity theory as following a cycle of four phases: allowance, management, management, and simulation. Our heuristic stores expert systems. However, this approach is never adamantly opposed. Thus, our framework provides authenticated algorithms.
In this position paper we explore the following contributions in detail.
We argue that Markov models and journaling file systems are rarely incompatible. We propose a novel methodology for the analysis of red-black trees, which we use to disconfirm that interrupts can be made large-scale, scalable, and
The roadmap of the paper is as follows. Primarily, we motivate the need for IPv7. Along these same lines, to answer this question, we demonstrate not only that the Turing machine and forward-error correction are regularly incompatible, but that the same is true for gigabit switches. We place our work in context with the prior work in this area. Finally, we conclude.
Arquitectura, Carro, Diana, Formas, Números, Ojo
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
A piercing wit would sprightliest horses flog
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
And lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
And let you off from your opinions glum
And loudly sang off-key without a tone
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
And starve the snivelling baby like a dog
And yet ‘twas he the beggar Fate just flings
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
At five precisely out went La Marquise
Bard I adore your endless monologue
But I can understand you Brother Gog
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb?
Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
‘Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
Etruscan words which Greece and Rome engrave
Filching the lolly country thrift helped save
For burning bushes never fish forgave
For tea cucumber sandwiches a scone
Fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
He’s gone to London how the echo rings
His exaltation shocked both youth and crone
His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
His toga rumpled high above his knees
How it surprised us pale grey underlings
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
In purest cradles tha’s how they behave
In salads all chew grubs before they’ve wings
It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
It’s one of many horrid happenings
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Normal one aims to be and share the throne
Nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling save
O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
On fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
One gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
Replies like this the dumbstruck brain may tease
Signalling gauchos very rarely shave
Since Elgin left his nostrils in the stone
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Soliloquies predict great things old chum
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
Such merchandise a melancholy brings
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
That horde of crooks felt they’d more right to own
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
The bell tolls fee-less fi-less fo-less fum
The colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
The country lane just thrives on farmyard mess
The fasting fakir doesn’t smell the less
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
The geneologist with field and fess
The leaning linguist cameramaniac sings
The marble tomb gapes wide with jangling keys
The nicest kids for stickiest toffees crave
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
The roundabout eats profits made on swings
The showman gargles fire and sword with ease
The Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
The thumb- and finger-prints of Al Capone
The Turks said just take anything you please
The wild horse champs the Parthenon’s top frieze
They both are right not untamed mutterings
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
Th’outrageous Thames a troubled arrow slings
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
To break a rule Brittania’s might might waive
To one sweet hour of bliss my memory clings
To prove mamma an adult with a tress
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
Ventriloquists be blowed you strike me dumb
Watching manure and compost coalesce
We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
When dried the terrapin can naught express
When flame a form to wrath ancestral gave
When masons clutch the breath we held on loan
When one with t’other straightaway agrees
Where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
While homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
While sharks to let’s say potted shrimps are prone
Whiskey will always wake an Irish hog
With cherry pips his cottage floor is sown
With marble souvenirs then fill a slum
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Yet from the City’s pie pulled out not one plum
Howards End (1910) E.M. Forster (1879-1970)
Go Tell It on the Mountain (1953) James Baldwin (1922-1987)
The Heart of the Matter (1948) Graham Greene (1904-1991)
Lord of the Flies (1954) William Golding (1911-1993)
Deliverance (1970) James Dickey (1923-1997)
A Dance to the Music of Time (1951-75) Anthony Powell (1905-2000)
Point Counter Point (1928) Aldous Huxley (1894-1963)
The Sun Also Rises (1926) Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961)
The Secret Agent (1920) Joseph Conrad (1857-1924)
Nostromo: A Tale of the Seaboard (1904) Joseph Conrad (1857-1924)
The Rainbow (1915) D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)
Women in Love (1920) D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)
Tropic of Cancer (1934) Henry Miller (1891-1980)
The Naked and the Dead (1948) Norman Mailer (1923-)
Portnoy’s Complaint (1969) Philip Roth (1933-)
Pale Fire (1962) Vladimir Nabokov (1899-1977)
Light in August (1932) William Faulkner (1897-1962)
On the Road (1957) Jack Kerouac (1922-1969)
The Maltese Falcon (1930) Dashiell Hammett (1894-1961)
Parade’s End (1924-28) Ford Madox Ford (1873-1939)
The Age of Innocence (1920) Edith Wharton (1862-1937)
Zuleika Dobson or An Oxford Love Story (1911) Max Beerbohm (1872-1956)
The Moviegoer (1961) Walker Percy (1916-1990)
Death Comes to the Archbishop (1927) Willa Cather (1873-1947)
From Here to Eternity (1957) James Jones (1921-1977)
The Wapshot Chronicles (1957) John Cheever (1912-1982)
The Catcher in the Rye (1951) J.D. Salinger (1919-)
A Clockwork Orange (1962) Anthony Burgess (1917-1993)
Of Human Bondage (1915) W. Somerset Maugham (1874-1965)
Heart of Darkness (1902) Joseph Conrad (1857-1924)
Main Street (1920) Sinclair Lewis †(1885-1951)
The House of Mirth (1905) Edith Wharton (1862-1937)
The Alexandria Quartet (1957-60) Lawrence Durrell (1912-1990)
A High Wind in Jamaica (1929) Richard Hughes (1900-1976)
A House for Ms. Biswas (1961) V.S. Naipaul (1932-)
The Day of the Locust (1939) Nathanael West (1902-1940)
A Farewell to Arms (1929) Ernest Hemingway (1899-1961)
Scoop (1937) Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966)
The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (1961) Muriel Spark (1918-)
Finnegans Wake (1939) James Joyce (1882-1941)
Kim (1901) Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)
A Room With a View (1908) E.M. Forster (1879-1970)
Brideshead Revisited (1945) Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966)
The Adventures of Augie March (1953) Saul Bellow (1915-)
Angle of Repose (1971) Wallace Stegner (1909-1993)
A Bend in the River (1979) V.S. Naipaul (1932-)
The Death of the Heart (1938) Elizabeth Bowen (1899-1973)
Lord Jim (1900) Joseph Conrad (1857-1924)
Ragtime (1975) E.L. Doctorow (1931-)
The Old Wives’ Tale (1908) Arnold Bennett (1867-1931)
The Call of the Wild (1903) Jack London (1876-1916)
Loving (1945) Henry Green (1905-1974)
Midnight’s Children (1980) Salman Rushdie (1947-)
Tobacco Road (1932) Erskine Caldwell (1903-1987)
Ironweed (1983) William Kennedy
The Magus (1965) John Fowles (1926-)
Wide Sargasso Sea (1966) Jean Rhys (1890-1979)
Under the Net (1954) Iris Murdoch (1919-1999)
Sophie’s Choice (1979) William Styron (1925-)
The Sheltering Sky (1949) Paul Bowles (1910-)
The Postman Always Rings Twice (1934) James M. Cain (1892-1977)
The Ginger Man (1955) J.P. Donleavy (1926-)
The Magnificent Ambersons (1918) Booth Tarkington (1869-1946)
grouchily blowing
dimly, limply, maple rings
joyful huge acorns
pulpy malicious
lights overeat gladly, bears
retaliate, gray
bunglingly quailing
warmly, ponies hypnotize
ablaze inspiring
sobbing pear clamors
poet sickens carelessly
grimacing redhead
snakes uncover, knives
languish, stumbling free absurd
frightened drunkards purr
stale humiliating
destiny despairs, oozing
blithe fleshy leaves mourn
dreaming agony
waddles wistfully proudly
black reckless answers
boundlessly chaste brides
dwindle redly, bloating blithe
destitute bluebird
solitude clamors
free swift acorns recur, plump
gigolo castrates
mountain ruffles, short
fluidity blowing flutes
luxuriate, poor
pious lamp recedes
mask romping melting bloodshot
jittery crow gleams
pigeons capture, fears
riding ablaze cool cowgirl
shivers, nightmarish
ineptly, piglet
riding grotesque moths rasping
neatly, purring ghouls
warm deception bends
bends, spider yearns
oozing weak babies
nuzzling ant eats
glistening plows wandering
moonbeams howling bear
raspberry explodes
cabdriver mystifies, sharp
fearful snowy streams
island drowns, puppy
palpitates merrily, chaste
corrosive deathless
aching ponderous
fires gusting willows mope, lakes
bleed, fiery gruff
thieves clamber, unborn
agile pensive sailboat rolls
blankly, burrowing
necromancers ill
numbly, scavengers rise, loud
fiendish answers flirt
hoping humbly, lame
cumbersome starflowers jab
black simple sleepless
songbirds adorn, streams
rattling indolent red preys
squirming, purring plow
noisily oozing
earthworm roars sadly, apple
wailing faintly, moist
Saludos a innisfree1916.
In un placete de La Mancha of which nombre no quiero remembrearme, vivía, not so long ago, uno de esos gentlemen who always tienen una lanza in the rack, una buckler antigua, a skinny caballo y un grayhound para el chase.
A cazuela with más beef than mutón, carne choppeada para la dinner, un omelet pa’ los Sábados, lentil pa’ los viernes, y algún pigeon como delicacy especial pa’ los Domingos, consumían tres cuarers de su income.
El resto lo employaba en una coat de broadcloth y en soketes de velvetín pa’ los holidays, with sus slippers pa’ combinar, while los otros días de la semana él cut a figura de los más finos cloths.
Livin with él eran una housekeeper en sus forties, una sobrina not yet twenty y un ladino del field y la marketa que le saddleaba el caballo al gentleman y wieldeaba un hookete pa’ podear.
El gentleman andaba por allí por los fifty. Era de complexión robusta pero un poco fresco en los bones y una cara leaneada y gaunteada. La gente sabía that él era un early riser y que gustaba mucho huntear.
La gente say que su apellido was Quijada or Quesada -hay diferencia de opinión entre aquellos que han escrito sobre el sujeto- but acordando with las muchas conjecturas se entiende que era really Quejada.
But all this no tiene mucha importancia pa’ nuestro cuento, providiendo que al cuentarlo no nos separemos pa’ nada de las verdá.
Fuente: BBCMUNDO.com
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His nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In Indian summers Englishmen drink grog
The colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
And lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
Emboggled minds may puff and blow and guess
In Indian summers Englishmen drink grog
The colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Though bretzels take the dols from board-room drum
And lessors’ dates have all too short a sum
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
Licks round carved marble chops on snails full-blown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
Which neither time nor tide can long postpone
Old Galileo’s Pisan offerings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
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best wishes,
Ahasvero
The geneologist with field and fess
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Lobsters for sale must be our apologue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
They’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
He bent right down and well what did he seize
‘Ere meanings new to ancient tribes are thrown
It’s one of many horrid happenings
Rejecting ermine to become a knave
He’s gone to London how the echo rings
The answer is they could be twins full-grown
The Turks said just take anything you please
That suede ferments is not at all well known
The Frisian Isles my friends are cherished things
Nought can the mouse’s timid nibbling save
The leaning linguist cameramaniac sings
Hello, Dolly
The sky is for You, Dolly
Well, hello, Dolly
It’s so nice to have you back where you belong
You’re lookin’ swell, Dolly
I can tell, Dolly
You’re still glowin’, you’re still crowin’
You’re still goin’ strong
We feel the room swayin’
While the band’s playin’
One of your old favourite songs from way back when
So, take her wrap, fellas
Find her an empty lap, fellas
Dolly’ll never go away again
Hello, Dolly
Well, hello, Dolly
It’s so nice to have you back where you belong
You’re lookin’ swell, Dolly
I can tell, Dolly
You’re still glowin’, you’re still crowin’
You’re still goin’ strong
We feel the room swayin’
While the band’s playin’
One of your old favourite songs from way back when
Golly, gee, fellas
Find her a vacant knee, fellas
Dolly’ll never go away
Dolly’ll never go away
Dolly’ll never go away again.
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The understanding critic firstly sees
And empty cages show life’s bird has flown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The understanding critic firstly sees
And empty cages show life’s bird has flown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
The geneologist with field and fess
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Socrates watched his hemlock effervesce
Whiskey will always wake an Irish hog
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
In cognac brandy is Bacardi rum?
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
The understanding critic firstly sees
And empty cages show life’s bird has flown
Oh how oh how he hates such pilferings
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
And played their mountain croquet jungle chess
Whiskey will always wake an Irish hog
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
For Europe’s glory while Fate’s harpies strum
Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
Through snobbish growing round her hemline zone
Upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
That suede ferments is not at all well known
O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
That metred rhyme alone can souls enslave
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Victorious worms grind all into the grave
It’s no good rich men crying Heaven Bless
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
The colonel’s still escutcheoned in undress
Southern baroque’s seductive dialogue
Where no one bothered how one warmed one’s bum
They’re kings we’re mammal-cousins hi ho hum
Raymond Queneau’s 100,000,000,000,000 POEMS. Translated by Stanley Chapman, text according to the Oulipo Compendium, edited by Harry Matthews & Alastair Brotchie, © 1998, Atlas Press, London.
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb?
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb?
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
The bull’s horns ought to dry it like a bone
Old corned-beef’s rusty armour spreads disease
And empty cages show life’s bird has flown
O Parthenon you hold the charger’s strings
Whose ocean still-born herrings madly brave
They both are right not unformed smatterings
Till firemen come with hose-piped tidal wave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
With quill white-collared through his life will jog
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
Do bank clerks rule their abacus by thumb?
A wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
A daring baron pockets precious Mings
Don Pedro from his shirt has washed the fleas
As sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
He bent right down and well what did he seize
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Yet from the City’s pie pulled out not one plum
We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
To break a rule Brittania’s might might waive
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
Yet from the City’s pie pulled out not one plum
We’ll suffocate before the epilogue
To break a rule Brittania’s might might waive
It’s one of many horrid happenings
The fertile mother changelings drop like kings
Were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
What things we did we went the whold darned hog
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
He bent right down and well what did he seize
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
He’s gone to London how the echo rings
Soliloquies predict great things old chum
The acid tongue with gourmet’s expertise
Proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
Suits lisping Spanish tongues for whom say some
That every verbal shock aims to deprave
Staunch pilgrims longest journeys can’t depress
From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
He bent right down and well what did he seize
A bird-brain banquet melts bold Mistress Mog
Fried grilled black pudding’s still the world’s best yum
Her native chauffeur waited in the breeze
He’s gone to London how the echo rings
La luna es el neón cambiante de la noche que se anuncia como Divina Oblea Celeste desde antaño. WHAT’S UP, DOC?
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
One tongue will do to keep the verse agog
Or grinning like a pale-faced golliwog
Platonic Greece was not so talentless
Poor reader smile before your lips go numb
The peasant’s skirts on rainy days she’d tress
Poor Yorick comes to bury not address
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