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Copyright: Fred Robel, and Fritz365 2010-2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog's author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Fred Robel and Fritz365 with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Monday, November 17, 2014

Random Rhyme Generator

I fed the beast as it was needed
Shoveling in wood and coal
For the burning and the churning
The pistons sliding and flywheels flying

As it worked up a sweat
Raising the temperature in the room
To the point of unbearable doom
Until the thermometer popped wide open
Spilling its silvered soul upon the coal
Forming a mad abridged carbon-quicksilver hybrid

But the shoveler kept right on shoveling
Stoking the fuel and scraping the coke
Spreading the heat evenly
As every corner should experience the hell equally

Still the machine turned wheels gears and belts
Running to and fro from spindle to shaft
Turning machinery far away
For purposes known only to itself

My shift wasn't done but we ran out of coal
With both wood and fresh trees turned to ash
I started feeding the machine the walls of the building
Ragged wooden planks filled with nails
Concrete block with both red and brown brick
Tossing as fast as I could into the now cherry red lipped maw
That cried out for more to burn

More to incinerate into mechanical energy
The kinetics of which were abstract to me
With forces arcane and strong
Pushing pulling turning whirring
Doing everything except staying at rest

The mouth of the machine ate  everything in sight
The leather belts reaching to the rafters
The steel wheels and shafts sitting in their bearings
Even other machines fed the ravenous appetite

Until finally everything was torn down and burned away
With nothing but the machine upon a barren plain
A fireman standing near and no fuel which to toss
Filled with dread that the next thing to burn would be me

Feeling at a loss, I said so clearly
Voice held high though it cracked and it cursed
Which supplied a solution as unlikely as any
As my words tumbled into the flames
Raising them higher
Pushing the temperature close to the red
Straining the steel wrapping the boiler
Steam whistling out all the relief valves from which it bled

I was no fool and decided to continue right on talking
Supplying the fuel for the hungry machine
Power for the monotonous nonstop motion
Work clearly being done but no product to show

As words tumbled off my lips I felt I must be shrinking
Even as the machine seemed to be growing
Expanding in every dimension
While I felt minuscule past mention

An hour a day and one hundred years passed in a blink
Every story I knew contributed to make heat
When without any warning a red light lit up upon an unopened port
My eyes grew wide as the metal door slide open wide
Revealing the result of the destruction we had wrought
I reached my last reach for the thing sitting within
The speck that was left of me disappearing in a shrink and a wink

An almost audible sound that was almost heard
By the beast of a machine sighing to a stop at last
All fuel expended for the task now ended
A many layered thing created for the last time

It was a book, a book, a mighty book!

A tome for all the ages with none left to read it
All leather and gilt spelled out with guilt
A bed time story to lull brats and bastards to sleep
A string of words that must now last for all times
Put together in flames, desperation, and madness
This hot steaming Book of Random Rhymes