27 June 2012

1,143,839,622,748,050,000,000,000,000 sonnets

Here are two of them:
When first the gods lie mounted on a tray
Life's word among the humanist reply.
This order ends the fruitless Roman way
See towns through peace, man's chosen alibi.

On frail death comes the lurid pageant-shows:
Some trail cut and a rustic honeybee,
The pleasing county dwarf, a brittle hose;
The one that learned should miss eternity.

That then was hailed The Perilous Frontier
While modest strangers name the newborn four
Will hopes on that regard today pass near?
Felled converts want the humorist Al Gore.

Transport the blood and educate this chum
The motions granted to the faceless bum.
Dream on while students go into the fray
The shallow pen our immigrants defy.
The new-found milder terrorists sashay
To now abuse one charming, speechless Thai.

Afraid, these contemplate our highs and lows:
This balance-tried secure autonomy,
Truth-leaning ways, the fabled porticoes;
So time and tune shield art there honestly.

With haunted hope, if lethal traitors sneer
Where rows of streamlined tungsten men abhor
Do roadway portals splash that engineer?
The term's wrong value told the final score.

I touch clasped hands to batter on the drum
Tied fast on those the celebrants go mum.
Apart from the fact that there are an OCTILLION (10^27)of these, the even more remarkable fact is that all of them are anagrams of one another.

The process for creating them is explained at Octosonnets.

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