The Spoonbill Generator

Glyphs And Cryptographic Chance

Red rocks; blue skies; a snooze and air refreshed [Beefy ]

A handful of Mah-Jongh tiles gripped so tight [Roland]

That only insolence could break the bones [P]

Into a million shivering pieces, then reassemble, [Apsley]

As if instructed by some higher force [P]

Beyond our ken, their brokenness [Apsley]

Reflects our fractured selves. Betime [F]

Shall we re-enter, then, the sceptred regions [Apsley]

Or fly away, like angels, haloes tossed? [F]

The bell sounds; set the coffee pot to boil [Beefy ]

And measure out your life in sweeteners [Roland]

Renewing at the vortex all your chi [Beefy ]

Until the hazy sweetness dims again undimmed, [Apsley]

And claims its errand from the masque of time. [Roland]

Such is the magick, the rapture and the pain [Apsley]

Of the happenstances of fate [Kansas Sam]

Clenched again, the fists, the very eyes [Roland]

That spoke to Moses - or his friend - [Apsley]

If only men of sense could make it known [Beefy ]

In decasyllables of nameless charm [Roland]

As if constructed from some higher verse [Beefy ]

Than graces any tonsil here tonight [Roland]

Shall we resent her, then, the septic virgin [TG]

Tyrannous behind her sylvan forge [Roland]

Luring prey with her mournful smile [N]

Yet deaf to all entreaties for deliv'rance [Roland]

Impervious to all but her bland self [F]

Enrobed though she is in golden fancies? [Grayman]

Until the lazy singer hymns again [Beefy ]

The tumbril cadences of o so serene, [Apsley]

Transformations. Shiva, deaf to our paeans [F]

Is now casting the final die [N]

Contributors: Beefy, Roland, P, Apsley, F, Kansas Sam, TG, N, Grayman.
Poem finished: 18th November 2003 by Anon..