Robot Song
Sleep, Robby, sleep,
and dream, you were a sheep.
You'll find no mirror, only shadow;
you'd like some grass, and you cain't get no.
sleep, robby, sleep.Sleep, Robby, sleep,
your car is but a Jeep.
You are a man from steel and wire;
you need no cigarette no fire.
Sleep, Robby, sleep.Sleep, Robby, sleep,
your thinking's very deep.
You made your child, you made your wife,
and have* them for the rest of life.
Sleep, Robby, sleep.Sleep, Robby, sleep,
your snorring is a beep.
Your circuits are so lovely plane;
you're just in time, you're just in sane.
Sleep, Robby, sleep.* following line had to be changed because of censorchip:
"... and love them for the rest of life."
Alice
In the country
behind the mirror
the stones are speaking
in the country
behind the mirror
the waves are whispering
in the country
behind the mirror
the coffee pots are telling their mystery
Alice is living
HAVE FUN
death spoke to life
turning the glass
just in time.Again I followed
streams of sand
to search for the hole.YOU TOO
life spoke to death
and walked
thoughtful in silence
through the wall.
Limerick, coloured hair version
Once upon a time and somewhere,
in his soup, Moses found one long hair.
He excited said, you
made a pleasant hair-do,
but the colour is, really, too fair.
Cat in a Cage
A young cat in a cage in a room
asked me yesterday morning; please zoom
just this part of the house;
but don't take any mouse.
But I did and the cat met her doom.
Limerick, writing experiences
A technical writer, oh blast!
lived backward from future to past,
he came out of his grave
married, played in a cave,
was born, and aborted at last.
Limerick, English sandwich version
In London, there was a small lad,
ached with hunger, and really, he had;
after eating a horse
on a sandwich, of course,
he asked for another on bread.
Limerick, doener version
There was a young man who was said
to be crazy and awfully mad,
when just eating a horse
(in a doener, of course,)
he asked for additional bread.
Limerick, Siam gedankenexperiment version
In Siam, there lived a young cat,
whose shape was so horribly flat,
you can't see her from side
cause she has just no height;
and she whispered: I'm almost too fat.
Limerick, fashion time
There was a young girl who's profession
was to sit, and she sat in sad session.
Even sits, even wears
some astonishing tears,
it's peculiarly modern, it's just fashion.
There was no snow
There was no snow
and the world lost glooming
out of my pocket
glooming
and the heat became old
-- spice for the roofs --
-- spice for the birds --
-- birds pipping in boiled eggs --
made me drinking Europe's rain
made me drinking Europe's rivers
made me drinking all Europe's tears.
There was no snow
and the world lost glooming
out of my pocket
glooming
and the heat became old
-- spice for the roofs --
-- spice for the birds --
-- birds pipping in boiled eggs --
where can I drink Europe's rain
where can I drink Europe's rivers
where can I drink all Europe's tears
Liver rhyme
The liver, here, comes from a pike,
not from a strawberry,
the taste is strange, the smell is light,
the sound arbitrary.
Letter
Hello, I' received the following text from my internal friend Malcolm, and
he asked me to distribute it. So here it is.Bernd
Clicking the Mouse button
By Malcolm HeadskyLast year I spend a few days in Scotland, attending a big convention. As
you know in Scottland there are lots of ghosts, and during the first
night in the hotel one of the ghosts appeared in my apartment. He gave me a
bottle, and we spoke some times about King Arthur, Merlin, Sir Lancelot and
all the Knights of the round table from long lost times. Back in Dresden I
forgot the meeting and I didn¹t remember it until last week. But I found
the bottle in my luggage, and so I opened it.
There was a paper in it, and the paper seemed to be so very important
strange, and old, that I want to show you. I don¹t want to bore you with
all the Latin and Sanskrit texts on the paper and so I¹ll give you a short
poem from the second page.
Mice
From puzzling lines on dazzling screens in black,
And such conceits as clownage keeps as price,
We¹ll lead thou to the keyboard of the Mac,
Where thou shallst hear the silent clicks of mice.And uuindow see thou findsth myself, I play,
The harddisk saith: My dearest friend, farewell;
The screen is black, the treasure uuent away,
provide an Apple now for Mr. Tell.The user clicketh and typeth and waiteth and feeleth.
Hast thou portray¹d another order art?
Select the contract from look-up menu
And see whole publication of a part.The user clickth the mouse another time
and me according faileth the latest rhyme.
Once there was a short pencil in a House
Once there was a short pencil in a House.
And once there was a cup in the House.
And coffee was in the cup.
And the pencil was not in the cup.
And the pencil asked: How are you?
And the coffee answered: O, thank you, it's ok.
And the cup said nothing.
Cold wind came into the house.
So the coffee became frozen.
And the cup became many parts.
And the pencil became bored.
So he thougt about it.
And he said I want to be a bee.
But nothing happened.
And he said I want to be a lion.
But nothing happened.
An airplane came and crashed into the house.
And that was the end of the story, of the airplane, of the coffee, of the
cup, and of the pencil.
I should mention: it became rather warm.
