gri_2003_m_46_b05_f25_008
- Max. dissimilarity: 1.0
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.387
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 68641164 - Crazycatz935
- 69079019 - Preacher357
- 69427188 - not-logged-in-8362141ab146ef8d3c81
- 69507274 - Chris5420
- WINNER - 69793927 - databanana
- 69953761 - RommelC
68641164 - Crazycatz935
POET IN TWO LIGHTSThere were the objects, there was the poet.
They floated in the avalanche of light,
Sleepy from the excesses, raving
In the flux no orator could pattern.
Time riddles the poet by the sphinx
Squatting on the mantelpiece like a clock,
The numerals sadistic as a flint,
A salad of shark's teeth and spiky numbers.
Erudite chairs posing their geometry
On the enigmatic square of carpet:
There was the problem, there was the poet
Helpless as a vase filled with water.
Poltergeists are talented exponents
Of the pathetic fallacy, he reasoned:
But the flying furniture did not abate,
Accepting no eremitical ideal of repose.
The green arm chairs tremble like cascades,
The electric fire prances like a horse,
The table regresses to before the axe,
The mobile is planets dripping fire.
Bars of the wind, oh the streets escape
From the table chained to my tongue.
The photographs of the glass aqueduct
Is complex as a prism of two rooms.
Suppose a dream made a riot active
And the wardrobe opened to a desert,
Curtains were the color of a fallen neon sign,
Carnations broaches at the throat of death.
Suppose a dream raised the room
A hundred feet, the garden as a ceiling
A hundred feet below and the flowers
Dropped out of the earth and fell like meteors.
New as a haircut with distant conotations
Of the sphinx, the princess, and the prism
The chair eclipses the window and I lie
Breathless on the lunar moss and wait.
Cups are craters gouged by early comets,
Forks symbolize Poseidon's enmity,
I lie in the rectangle emitted by the sun
Beyond the reach of kettle, clock, or hinge.
69079019 - Preacher357
POET IN TWO LIGHTSThere were the objects, there was the poet.
They floated in the avalanche of light,
Sleepy from the excesses, raving
In the flux no orator could pattern.
Time riddles the poet by the sphinx
Squatting on the mantlepiece like a clock,
The numerals sadistic as a flint,
A salad of shark's teeth and spiky numbers.
Erudite chairs posing their geometry
On the enigmatic square of carpet:
There was the problem, there was the poet
Helpless as a vase filled with water.
Poltergeists are talented exponets
Of the pathetic fallacy, he reasoned:
But the flying furniture did not ablate,
Accepting no cremitical ideal of repose.
The green arm chairs tremble like cascaes,
The elecric fire pranches like a horse,
The table regresses to before the axe,
The mobile is planets dripping fire.
Bars of the wind, oh the streets escape
From the table chained to my tongue.
The photographs of the glass aquaduct
Is complex as a prism of two rooms.
Suppose a dream made a riot active
And the wardrobe opened to a desert,
Curtains were the color of a fallen neon sign,
Carnations broaches at the threat of death.
Suppose a dream raised the room
A hundred feet, the garden as a ceiling
A hundred feet below and the flowers
Dropped out of the earth and fell like meteors.
New as a haircut with distant conotations
Of the sphinx, the princess, and the prism
The chair eclipses the window and I lie
Breathless on the lunar moss and wait.
Cups are craters gouged by early comets,
Forks symbolise Poseidon's enmity,
I lie in the rectangle emitted by the sun
Beyond the reach of kettle, clock, or hings.
69427188 - not-logged-in-8362141ab146ef8d3c81
POET IN TWO LIGHTSThere were the objects, there was the poet.
The floated in the avalanche of light,
Sleepy from the excesses, raving
In the flux no orator could pattern.
Time riddles the poet by the sphinx
Squatting on the mantlepiece like a clock,
The numerals sadistic as a flint,
A salad of shark's teeth and spiky numbers.
Erudite chairs posing their geometry
On the enigmatic square of the carpet:
There was the problem, there was the poet
Helpless as a vase filled with water
Poltergeists are talented exponents
Of the pathetic fallacy, he reasoned:
But the flying furniture did not abate,
Accepting NO eremitical ideal of repose.
The green arm chairs tremble like cascades,
The electric fire pranches like a horse,
The table regresses to before the axe,
The mobile is planets dripping fire.
Bars of the wind, oh the streets escape
From the table chained to my tongue.
The photographs of the glass aqueduct
Is complex as a prism of two rooms.
Suppose a dream raised the room
A hundred feet, the garden as a ceiling
A hundred feet below and the flowers
Dropped out of the earth and fell like meteors.
New as a haircut with distant connotations
Of the sphinx, the princess, and the prism
The chair eclipses the window, and I lie
Breathless on the lunar moss and wait.
Cups are craters gouged by early comets,
Forks symbolise Poseidon's enmity,
I lie in the rectangle emitted by the sun
Beyond the reach of kettle, clock, or hinge.
69507274 - Chris5420
POET IN TWO LIGHTSThere were the objects, there was the poet.
They floated in the avalanche of light,
Sleepy from the excesses, raving
In the flux no orator could pattern.
Time riddles the poet by the sphinx
Squatting on the mantlepiece like a clock,
The numerals sadistic as a flint,
A salad of shark's teeth and spiky numbers.
Erudite chairs posing their geometry
Or the enigmatic square of carpet:
There was the problem, there was the poet
Helpless as a vase filled with water.
Poltergeists are talented exponents
Of the pathetic fallacy, he reasoned:
But the flying furniture did not abate,
Accepting no cremitical ideal of repose.
The green arm chairs tremble like cascades,
The electric fire prances like a horse,
The table regresses to before the axe,
The mobile is planets dripping fire.
Bars of the wind, oh the streets escape
From the table chained to my tongue.
The photographs of the glass aquaduct
Is complex as a prism of two rooms.
Suppose a dream made a riot active
And the wardrobe opened to a desert,
Curtains were the colour of a fallen neon sign,
Carnations broaches at the threat of death.
Suppose a dream raised the room
A hundred feet, the garden as a ceiling
A hundred feet below and the flowers
Dropped out of the earth and fell like meteors.
New as a haircut with distant conotations
Of the sphinx, the princess, and the prism
The chair eclipses the window and I lie
Breathless on the lunar moss and wait.
Cups are craters gouged by early comets,
Forks symbolise Poseidon's enmity,
I lie in the rectangle emitted by the sun
Beyond the reach of kettle, clock, or hinge.
WINNER - 69793927 - databanana
POET IN TWO LIGHTSThere were the objects, there was the poet.
They floated in the avalanche of light,
Sleepy from the excesses, raving
In the flux no orator could pattern.
Time riddles the poet by the sphinx
Squatting on the mantlepiece like a clock,
The numerals sadistic as a flint,
A salad of shark's teeth and spiky numbers.
Erudite chairs posing their geometry
On the enigmatic square of carpet:
There was the problem, there was the poet
Helpless as a vase filled with water.
Poltergeists are talented exponents
Of the pathetic fallacy, he reasoned:
But the flying furniture did not abate,
Accepting no eremitical ideal of repose.
The green arm chairs tremble like cascades,
The electric fire prances like a horse,
The table regresses to before the axe,
The mobile is planets dripping fire.
Bars of the wind, oh the streets escape
From the table chained to my tongue.
The photographs of the glass aquaduct
Is complex as a prism of two rooms.
Suppose a dream made a riot active
And the wardrobe opened to a desert,
Curtains were the color of a fallen neon sign,
Carnations broaches at the throat of death.
Suppose a dream raised the room
A hundred feet, the garden as a ceiling
A hundred feet below and the flowers
Dropped out of the earth and fall like meteors.
New as a haircut with distant conotations
Of the sphinx, the princess, and the prism
The chair eclipses the window and I lie
Breathless on the lunar moss and wait.
Cups are craters gouged by early comets,
Forks symbolise Poseidon's enmity,
I lie in the rectangle emitted by the sun
Beyond the reach of kettle, clock, or hinge.
69953761 - RommelC