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Randomly Generated Poetry


PincerClaw420

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Pay attention to the duke,
the duke is the most royal lord of all.
Now purple is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the duke is imperial.

I cannot help but stop and look at the feathery turkey.
Never forget the decorated and light turkey.

How happy is the cunning duckling!
Are you upset by how wily it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the duckling so clever?

A sidestep, however hard it tries,
Will always be wooly.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the sidestep,
Gently it goes - the soft, the hirsute, the muddled.

The head that's really wooden,
Above all others is the chair.
Now awkward is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the chair is woody.

I saw the the annoying tomfool of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the goose.
Does the goose make you shiver?
does it?

Also some five star reviews:

"I will never forget decorated and light turkey thanks to the vivid imagery created by this author."

- The Daily Tale

"This poem is so overwritten! Take the scissors to it and cut out all that ridiculous alliteration. Less is more."

- Enid Kibbler

"I love poems that beg the reader to bring something to the table. Anonymous brought duck and I brought kittens. It made for quite a weird read, if I'm honest."

- Hit the Spoof

"' Duck' is a topic far too neglected in modern poetry. I'm so glad Anonymous chose to tackle it."

- Zob Gloop

"With alliteration like 'Down, down, down', this will surely win awards."

- Betty Borison

"No, it does not tear me apart to see the the duckling so clever!"

- Smedley Smoo

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Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My enemy is cunning,
And so are you.

Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
Curls are blonde,
And so is your hair.

Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
Stems are slender,
And so are your legs.

Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
A head is grey,
And so are your eyes.

Foxgloves in hedges,
Surround the farms,
List is long,
And so are your arms.

Daisies are pretty,
Daffies have style,
Sunlight is dazzling,
And so is your smile.

Waterfall is beautiful,
Just like you.

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See the sleeping of the bats,
I think he's angry at the at-bats.

He finds it hard to see the ant,
Overshadowed by the excellent bog plant.

Who is that standing near the bowl?
I think she'd like to eat the stole.

She is but a compassionate acting,
Admired as she sits upon a subcontracting.

Her weird car is just a zebra,
It needs no gas, it runs on libra.

She's not alone she brings an aardvark,
a pet goat, and lots of reflex arc.

The goat likes to chase a bats,
Especially one that's in the diplomats.

The bats shudders at the academic spouse
He want to leave but she wants the doghouse.

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One day at a dress shop,
I met a man selling socks,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some fawkes.

"Got any fawkes?" asked I.
"For that's how I'll spend my money."
"No fawkes here!" said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely shoes,
I'll give you a very fine price."
"I'd rather have some clews."
The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally springy,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn't what I would call swingy,
Great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I'm a bit tall.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty natal.

So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the dress shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
"I can help you I believe."

"Socks, fawkes, you shall find.
Shoes, clews, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to Camden Market.

So to Camden Market I decided to go,
In search of the fawkes I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling apples,
Crisps in many shades.
There were even stalls selling dapples
People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather tall
I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was at all natal.

Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, "For you, I have some fawkes!"
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some shoes and socks.

"But how did you know?" I asked,
"Do you want them or not?" she did say.
Silently, the fawkes she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?

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Pizza

Free verse by Anon


I saw the the hearty food product of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the pasta.
Does the pasta make you shiver?
does it?

I cannot help but stop and look at the second slice.
Never forget the 2d and minute slice.

When I think of the cheeseburger, I see a greasy meat.
Does the cheeseburger make you shiver?
does it?

When I think of the burger, I see a greasy fish.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the burger,
Gently it goes - the sappy, the cuckoo, the clownish.

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Cabbages Are Ugly

Clad babes gobble.

Amino sugars romance.

Bitten terriers lurch.

Bank balances equilibrate.

Accurate balances equilibrate.

German bloodhounds loiter.

Ecological balances reconcile.

Subordinate treasuries beckon.

 

Adverse balances distribute.

Ravenous hounds bay.

Early wallflowers covet.

 

Unusual pets fondle.

Gentle pets fondle.

Like terriers canoodle.

Yellow wallflowers lurk.

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send this to ur crush

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My observation is keen,
And so are you.

Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
Arms are wiry,
And so is your hair.

Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
Hands are hairy,
And so are your legs.

Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
A shirt is blue,
And so are your eyes.

Foxgloves in hedges,
Surround the farms,
Pink is pale,
And so are your arms.

Daisies are pretty,
Daffies have style,
Societies are friendly,
And so is your smile.

A banana is beautiful,
Just like you.

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Sure

Whose king is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite sad though.
It really is a tale of woe,
I watch her frown. I cry hello.

She gives her king a shake,
And sobs until the tears make.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The king is streamline, scary and deep,
But she has promises to keep,
Until then she shall not sleep.
She lies in bed with ducts that weep.

She rises from her bitter bed,
With thoughts of sadness in her head,
She idolises being dead.
Facing the day with never ending dread.

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WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL YOUR TURTLE

 

Whose turtle is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite angry though.
He was cross like a dark potato.
I watch him pace. I cry hello.

He gives his turtle a shake,
And screams I've made a bad mistake.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The turtle is happy, fast and deep,
But he has promises to keep,
Tormented with nightmares he never sleeps.
Revenge is a promise a man should keep.

He rises from his cursed bed,
With thoughts of violence in his head,
A flash of rage and he sees red.
Without a pause I turned and fled.

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