the music of the incandescence sphere
atomic chairs return to carbon roots
That god damn iambic pentameter thread's got my brain stuck on 5's
When I talk to my cats in 5's, they start throwing up hair balls.
Haha, revenge, finally!
By the way, here's a copy of the Fauxku Choo Choo poem guidelines, should anyone be interested:
(I'm looking at you, brynmawr.)
1. Any TINY poem of 1 to 4 lines (or a 5 line limerick) - does not have to be haiku-like.
2. Poem includes 2 significant words from the preceding one.
(Tense and plurality of the words may may be changed;
homonyms and other inventive wordplay are encouraged.)
3. Poem reflects some aspect of the previous poem (encouraged but not obligatory).
also:
4. Copy last poem and repeat it above your poem in a new post .
5. It's OK to play with yourself. (Post replies to your own poem.)
6. If the previous poem doesn't fit the guidelines: Either use the poem before it
or begin something new.
7. It's OK to add TINY notes and start small conversations; but put anything large
in a p.s. box. Example:
Code:
[p.s.]
From Wikipedia:
Armadillos (Spanish for 'little armored ones') are New World placental mammals in the order
Cingulata. They form part of the superorder Xenarthra, along with the anteaters and sloths.
21 extant species of armadillo have been described, some of which are distinguished by the
number of bands on their armor. All species are native to the Americas. Armadillos are
characterized by a leathery armor shell and long, sharp claws for digging. The giant armadillo
grows up to 150 cm (59 in) and weighs up to 54 kg (119 lb), while the pink fairy armadillo has
a length of 13–15 cm (5–6 in).
[/p.s.]
all this useless beauty... but what the hell, why not?
01-19-2026, 07:00 AM (This post was last modified: 01-19-2026, 07:16 AM by Quixilated.)
Words sown freely
Grow deepest roots
In loose soil
She planted words like seeds
deep in the dark and the loam
there they died and were eaten by worms
now tree roots grow through their bones
though she waits, she'll speak no more
I know it is more than four lines, has no specific form or style (especially none of the ones ending in -ku), and is possibly not officially tiny.
I appeal to the mercy of Ray (OP and god of this thread).
A spirit appeared to me and bade me transcribe these words.
I humbly accept whatever punishment is decreed.
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara
She planted words like seeds
deep in the dark and the loam
there they died and were eaten by worms
now tree roots grow through their bones
though she waits, she'll speak no more
Seeds, deep in the dark.
Still, beside their brethren worms.
Winter has come.
And still, she waits.
I got ahold of that spirit and she's a big orange thing with horns and she scares the shit out of me.
There's no way in hell I'm going to do anything that displeases her. If she bade it, I'm not gonna
attempt any sort of unbadeing. It's bade-ed, it stays bade-ed, and I'm going to just pretend
everything's fine because everything IS fine, honestly, everything's fine and her fiery orange
plumage is beautiful, very beautiful, some of the most beautiful fiery orange plumage I've ever seen.
all this useless beauty... but what the hell, why not?