[an error occurred while processing this directive]
904 |
[Here is a pair of original sonnets that are anagrams:]
When first the gods lie mounted on a tray
To play of idle art when summer's nigh.
The rules of his mind's order went astray
Because men rose at once with plans so high.
So on this earth the languid dream-pace flows:
A countryside, the blue romantic sea,
The god finance rebuilt, a prey that slows;
These hold the tired mountains earnestly.
To hasten faith, while printed authors leer,
Where farming thousands low resentment bore
Do paper hearts that win soon gladly sear?
The watchful starling toodles "Nevermore".
Tend to a torch as round-pitched tables hum
Let gather Fates; the icon moon sets dumb.
=
We find that soon the melodies turn gray
Our flesh an empty mold, a winter sigh.
She renders ransom first without delay
When each soon-passing truth becomes a lie.
What laid among the fields our parents chose:
A mist at noon, a cheesy cultured Brie,
The bending pile a faulty horse-cart tows;
These too shall run and meet their destiny.
With haunted hope, if lethal traitors sneer
While wrongs at men returned, as months before
Shall steady wind not propagate or shear?
The term's wrong value told the final score.
So spot that old authentic hardened crumb
The tombstone flat, the caged sensorium.
[This is just one pair out of 1,143,839,622,748,050,000,000,000,000 different
pairs of anagram sonnets generated by the simple procedure described
here. (That page also contains a Javascript implementation which displays
randomly-selected sonnet anagrams from the universe of all those available.)
The "raw material" is 14 sets of 10 lines (shown at the end of this post),
with the 10 lines in each set being mutual anagrams. By combining these
in all possible ways roughly 1.14 octillion sonnet anagrams are produced.
Not only are these sets constructed to ensure that both sonnets
rhyme properly, but pains were also taken to ensure that none of the rhymes are
trivial - like tee/tea or tee/fealty or even face/deface. A precise statement
of the rule is: the final consonant-vowel-consonant sounds (if the rhyme ends
in a consonant) or consonant-vowel sounds (if the rhyme ends
in a vowel) in a pair of rhyming words are always different.
This is similar to the construction I used back in 2003 in this.
That one used sets having just four lines each, giving rise to a mere
641,959,232,274,432 anagrams.]
Set 1
How fortunes land to meet the rising day
With motion under feet the dragons slay
The demon saw our strength in life today
We find that soon the melodies turn gray
The hint of dormant energies would stay
When first the gods lie mounted on a tray
To lowered faith the turning demons say
Dream on while students go into the fray
The weather-tingèd moon unfolds its ray
For many would attend the night's soirée
Set 2
Our flesh an empty mold, a winter sigh.
To play of idle art when summer's nigh.
In grammar fully shown the poets die.
Who fuel hate immortal springs deny.
Around the smiling metaphors we fly.
Life's word among the humanist reply.
The shallow pen our immigrants defy.
In reds the human film plot goes awry.
In this long dream the formula we spy.
This normal male the grownups edify.
Set 3
Now try and read this short life's resume
To rise or rest undress the mind halfway
The rules of his mind's order went astray
This order ends the fruitless Roman way
And stirs the world the nurseries of May
Swift moralists surrendered on the hay
Hot murderers of thirteen islands sway
With Monday rules transfer the dossier
She renders ransom first without delay
The new-found milder terrorists sashay
Set 4
Because men rose at once with plans so high.
When each soon-passing truth becomes a lie.
See towns through peace, man's chosen alibi.
Ban laws, choose change, the promises untie.
Whose reason-catching son eats humble pie.
As beach-whales sense the mourning octopi.
The chaste men groan, woo shapeless incubi.
Sense each blouse open thrown at Sigma Chi.
To now abuse one charming, speechless Thai.
So businesswomen phone, charge latte chai.
|
Set 5
So on this earth the languid dream-pace flows:
With random life the author's landscape goes:
On frail death comes the lurid pageant-shows:
Reach out, read hope amidst the falling snows:
The spread outlines a team of highland crows:
Afraid, these contemplate our highs and lows:
What laid among the fields our parents chose:
There men could fashion paradise that glows:
The fat world laughed one Christmas in a pose:
The farmland showed this catalogue in prose:
Set 6
The countryside, a blue romantic sea,
His secret cloud, a mountain by a tree,
A land secure that you inscribe to me,
North County aims, a suitable decree,
A mist at noon, a cheesy cultured Brie,
Today's lie, accusation number three,
Some trail cut and a rustic honeybee,
Some acrid truth, a buoyant licensee,
State boundaries, neurotic alchemy,
This balance-tried secure autonomy,
Set 7
The ocean ripe, a friendly gust that blows;
The bending pile a faulty horse-cart tows;
Abundant light, receipts of earthly woes;
A wasteful con, the brightly painted rose;
That fiercely hated blow, a spurting nose;
The god finance rebuilt, a prey that slows;
A finely captured boon, the girl that sews;
Truth-leaning ways, the fabled porticoes;
The pleasing county dwarf, a brittle hose;
The birds that neatly go in peaceful rows;
Set 8
These too shall run and meet their destiny.
There saints should not entail the remedy.
Then heroes sat 'round death time silently.
No matter, these should die here instantly.
Then meet instead one earth's dull history.
These hold the tired mountains earnestly.
So time and tune shield art there honestly.
These hostile thrones demand neutrality.
The one that learned should miss eternity.
Thus lean hearts mentioned lost heredity.
Set 9
On this outlandish earth, replete with fear
To read, to learn, within this hateful sphere
Our faith in this low planet shattered here
With haunted hope, if lethal traitors sneer
Till then if earth, with nature's hope so dear
To halt in faith where unheard pilots steer
Of health and roles within the trip austere
To hasten faith, while printed authors leer,
That then was hailed The Perilous Frontier
With hope, sir, in the soul and heartfelt tear
Set 10
When men in arms the battlegrounds foreswore
While wrongs at men returned, as months before
When mortal news-bound nightmares fester o'er
While urban men soft shortened garments wore
Where farming thousands low resentment bore
When fearsome men the brown stunt girls adore
Where rows of streamlined tungsten men abhor
When we bound migrants feel the monster's roar
While modest strangers name the newborn four
When from the trees great sun-blind women soar
Set 11
Will hopes on that regard today pass near?
Shall any good in these tart words appear?
Do troops end all the pagan wars this year?
Then shall two years go rot and disappear?
Do roadway portals splash that engineer?
Shall steady wind not propagate or shear?
Ahead do pawnshop trolleys start in gear?
Shall standard weapon rays go to the pier?
Do paper hearts that win soon gladly sear?
Will ghost parades donate a thorny spear?
Set 12
The watchful starling toodles "Nevermore."
What lost such flavor lettered men ignore.
We all meet trusted thighs on craven floor.
The term's wrong value told the final score.
The turtle-wrestling falcon moved ashore.
From cloth and nuts the village we restore.
Felled converts want the humorist Al Gore.
Tell much as love's forgotten in the drawer.
With freedom last consult the graven lore.
Mold closet laughter with a fervent snore.
Set 13
Hold hope abstract and count the tired sum
To catch the pints around the boarded slum
So strut not, death placed acid on her thumb
The lot stood up then snatched Bacardi rum
I touch clasped hands to batter on the drum
And then those trod to catch a bruisèd plum
Tend to a torch as round-pitched tables hum
Transport the blood and educate this chum
So spot that old authentic hardened crumb
To stretch as dead and touch the iron plumb
Set 14
Each one the forest tomb attends is glum.
Tied fast on those the celebrants go mum.
Let gather Fates; the icon moon sets dumb.
The best of things must to a real end come.
O face his sad tomb, note the gentle strum.
On stage to this the Democrat feels numb.
To match in sense the bolder taste of gum.
To face instead the bosom's gentle thrum.
The motions granted to the faceless bum.
The tombstone flat, the caged sensorium.
|
