tofa: Julia preview of a mandelbrot (Default)
2010-10-19 05:06 pm
Entry tags:

I point at you and scream "apocraphy, APOCRAPHY!".

Ablout our ableations
we must retreat from
our tarnations.

In six to four hours
let that be c
will the world awaken to me
existence such a marvelous thing
when paraphrased... ergo me?

Sowards tooneristic nonstronsity
Alliterated tap, tapping veers
knocked upon the step.
Too steep the step steers to
stripand my stumbler... slumber.

To what doomish dome of dustish depravity
which deliquently I am didated to decieve,
or did I mean "desolate dreary descitude"
it hardly matters now as
demands it does dogmatic dread
and dolefully does it do
Because I mean many the milliners the mercentile man.
Or was it that...
I knit nannies and neenish narts, not now nor never?
I cannot, by rights, recall.

Sowards tooneristic nonstronsity
Alliterated tap, tapping now vies
knocked upon the step.
Too steep the step steers to
stripand my stumbler... slumber.
When the world awakes.

Visceral visual viscitudes, I fear, will
Vie vehemently upon and decry me.

For sweatingly sweet too swot to see
volumtuous vociferous viands
vocate my sight and sea.

In six to four hours
now let that be d
As you see;
c plus d equals b
or three, as if it
is b it surely is d plus c
but c times d is zero or
the square root of
b squared minus four a c
as near as it need be
because later it was determined
to be d.

In six to four hours
let that be p
will the world awaken to me
existance such a marvelous thing
when paraphrased... ergo me?

So quote ye thus this:
"Ablout our ableations
we must enure to
our tarnations".
And aspare you to nat cost not some nasturtiums.

... Sorry recursion.
tofa: Julia preview of a mandelbrot (Default)
2010-06-24 01:39 am
Entry tags:

Withered Home

Rent and withered my mind is torn
twixt unstable base and suffering banked
Scant is this landscape
frequented oft by that beast forlorn

For what am I now to do.
That great monolith must be put
"To be or not to be
that is the question".
Is it noble of my mind to cease?
Or must it suffer the endless convolutions?

But such is the void
into which from my lofty mantle
I have peered.
I know that there is no refuge
in being or not.
Surely Hamlet that tired prince
Could have perceived the foul mind
that doth delude.

I did once proclaim vociferously
with majesty in my beat
"For how strangely is my
suffering beleaguered by
the events of my existence"
Such rose tinted spectacles now
cast far, too far away. Sway
oh sway demented fields in your morning mist
do not dread this.

I know now that I have returned
sweet in its way exquisite
to end perhaps this Haiku.
"The behemoths beleaguer benevolently"
For surely they must as
my homecoming long overdue
is upon us. My mind, I am returned.

Rent and withered my mind is torn
twixt unstable base and suffering banked
Scant is this landscape
frequented oft by that beast forlorn.