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[reality.auditor]

I am afraid songs will be described like books. I know Toady threatened multiple times with autogenerated poetry, but will he actually do this atrocity? Time will tell.

[Naryar]

I am afraid songs will be described like books. I know Toady threatened multiple times with autogenerated poetry, but will he actually do this atrocity? Time will tell.

It's not an atrocity if is is sufficiently hilarious.

And he will.

[Adragis]

There once was an elf
with a shield made of wood
An arrow punched through it-
Shields of wood are no good.

There once was a dwarf
with some boots made of lead
He was stuck to the spot
'til his fortress was dead

There once was a human
with a cap made of slade
He was forced to the ground
and was slain by a blade

There once was a kobold
he died because he's a kobold
he wasn't very bold
because he's a kobold.
silly kobold scum

[Thisfox]

Yay, Dwarven poetry!

If you're in the mood, there's a few other threads with similar ideas.
I love the things.

To the tune of the Cowboy beBop song, "Diggin" (which I listen to quite often when I'm playing).

You know my daddy dug holes for his whole life
And he never knew nothing more
Yeah and his daddy done the dig like his old man
Who had dug before the War-
And though she couldn't have known till I was born
My poor mama God rest her soul
Like them I come out diggin'!

Well I was smoothing out floors on level 9
Now when she come down to earth
And she was talkin' real loud
All about she was gonna save the whole fortress!
I went and snuck a lil' peek in her blue eyes
And words just aren't enough:
She had me off and runnin'!

Could it be that I got bored and lonely?
Could it be that I'm just dumb and horny?
Could it be that Lady Luck has smiled herself on me?
She's smiling down on me...

She wore rattlesnake boots, a sassy mood
She had me laughin' in my tears
The most beautiful thing, so young and sweet
A little green behind the ears
She took me higher then I ever been
Lordy what have I been missin'
Now she is all I'm diggin'...

Could it be that I got bored and lonely?
Could it be that I'm just old and horny?
Could it be that Lady Luck has smiled herself on me?
She's smilin' down on me, yeah

Come a little closer
Let me show you how it could be
Dirty little dorfgirl...
Come a little closer to me
Dirty little dorfgirl....

[Il Palazzo]

Breaking news! The lost 155th sonnet of Uthmiklokum has been uncovered!

The Pick

The miner's tools' allure her senses benumbs
Will she its shank caress or will she heed
Her mama's warnings, pleas and teary tantrums?
With hardened haft it calls t'her deepest needs.

The mighty rod bears proud head topside; glistens
With legendary worker's manly sweat!
Powerful thrusts pierce through nether depths
Entice, enthral and conquer; make her fret.

Working the pick is for grown dwarfs only, they said
Yet headstrong youth oft discipline disdains;
Twelve winters old - she grabs it with her hand
Down in a shaft by the adamantine veins.

Eagerness with naivety thus converged,
'Till in a splurge fun hidden stuff emerged.

[Kamamura]

Wow, some of the pieces are actually good. Can't have that here :-) Here's another one:


Layers of dust on the shelves,
the chill of frozen marrow in my bones,
forgotten even by the elves,
I witnessed crumbling of the proudest thrones.

Locked alone in an abandoned tower,
parchment and quill are my only friends,
more than to the secrets of ancient arcane powers,
I am drawn to narrations that simply never end.

My tome number nine hundred twenty one,
its epilogue is almost done,
soon I will put it next to tome nine hundred twenty,
all a writer needs is time (and I got plenty).

Then I shall write about it in five more books,
things are more complicated than they look,
The comments about those my new five tomes,
on the pages of the next twelve will find their home.

Writer's work is simply never done,
and one thousand books is
...
significantly
decidedly
obviously
undoubtedly
positively
overwhelmingly
assuredly
convincingly...
...
...
more than one.

And so centuries just whistle by,
no need to rush when you don't have to die,
Please come visit me any time,
Last hundred years... I've been running out of rhymes...

[Il Palazzo]

He likes his women rounded, likes them plump,
Fondlable, sweet and stout.  He loves them rotund.
Embracing chubby tissues down their rump
Raises his pressure as well as his mound

He stalks them daily through the cavern system
Famed hunting skills superbly does employ
Selects the finest ones, robust of stem.
Wrestles them down; strips overcome with joy!

He may not know his way around their bulk,
May get confused in haze of desire burning
And grope, caress, or brew, or bite a chunk
When so consumed all heads will sure be turning

But hark! Don't tell him how to live his life,
He just wants a plump helmet woman for a wife'.

[Kamamura]

Il Palazzo - wonderful! Almost like... art :-)


Same shady corridors, same frowning faces,
same foul, tasteless, stomach turning food,
it grows inside you, on a daily basis,
that grim, dark and slighly spooky mood.

Fragments of visions dancing in the dark,
a shield on a door on a helmet on a cup,
few spikes of copper, a rune here, or a mark,
mind like those tunnels, and no one has a map.

The work is tiring, but you dare not take a break,
sleep, food and booze must wait, for too much is at stake.

You emerge after weeks, your work finally done,
your face shines with triumph - but where is everyone?

[Il Palazzo]

Almost like... art

I though you were going to say 'porn', but have it your way.

Anyway, I'm off. I have no more risqué bawdy topics to write about.

[That Wolf]

Havent been here for a while and I shall write up some more for haha.
My favourites so far are this foxes lovely sonet.
And Il Palazzos plump helmet wife one.
The whole time I knew where it was going but I still loved it and cracked up at the last lines.
Oh thank you people for making me smile

[Knight Otu]

Rimtar! (Rimtar!)
Ostar Etar Thestar Gintar. (The buried king [with] the crimson girdle.)
Rimtar Oltar Kastar. (At the castle of gilded blocks.)


Urist? ([What about] Urist?)
Omrist Orstist. (A wild recluse.)
Iklist Arist Anist Urist. ([They] whisper of assault with an ignited dagger.)


Mörul?
Rul Vesrul.
Rushrul Lårul Akrul Mörul.


Deleth?
Seth Iseth.
Shoveth Zareth Ineth.
Agseth Kàlreth Nugreth.

[reality.auditor]

I should also reiterate that we're not generating actual words for poems

Ha! I knew it will be like books, only even more descriptive.

[HavingPhun]

I should also reiterate that we're not generating actual words for poems

Ha! I knew it will be like books, only even more descriptive.

I like some of the poem descriptions, and think it will be hilarious when they actually have generated words in later versions, just imagine some drunk dwarf making a sappy love poem. Maybe books will get more detailed descriptions soon too.

[Keshire]

I should also reiterate that we're not generating actual words for poems

Ha! I knew it will be like books, only even more descriptive.

What I like about this is that since poems tend to be shorter than books, we may see a lot of people putting up their topics from in-game with a fan created poem to match. Like a more advanced Mad-libs word game.

[WordsandChaos]

So who's the first to try the epic riddle poem?

" A poetic riddle intended to complain about a chosen subject, originating in The Seducer of Webs. The poem is divided into two distinct parts: five ten-line stanzas and seven to nine quatrains. Use of metaphor and vivid imagery is characteristic of the form.
The first part concerns the past. The tenth line of each stanza uses the same placement of allusions as the first line. It has lines with three feet with an accent pattern of stressed-unstressed-stressed (qualitative cretic trimeter). The ending of each line of this part rhymes with each other.
The second part concerns current events. Certain lines use the same placement of allusions. It has lines with three feet with an accent pattern of stressed-unstressed (qualitative trochaic trimeter). The ending of each line of this part rhymes with each other."

That's quite the riddle...