name: Aura Heart, Beating Blood
nen type: enhancement, transmutation
the user bind their aura to their red blood cells and causes it to be released with oxygen into their body, causing each of their cells to be greatly enhanced with aura but of course having less external aura to be used for aura defence, this also causes the user to transmute an aura heart over their natural heart that pumps blood in sync with the heart for greater circulation per pump, decreasing heartrate but increasing circulation
conditions:
natural ones stated in hatsu
sub hatsu: Heart of Love, Trochaic Tetrameter
the user can put an aura heart into an ally to beat with their heart and keep their circulation up, this also allows the ally to have a second chance at life if their organic heart stops
conditions:
whilst using this hatsu the user can only speak in Trochaic Tetrameter, the user can only have 1 heart of love active at once
sub hatsu: Heart of Hate, Iambic Pentameter
the user creates an aura heart in a target's body that pumps blood in an opposite rhythm to the natural heartbeat, brutally crippling their blood circulation and causing asphyxiation in different parts of the body, namely the extremities
conditions:
whilst using this hatsu the user can only speak in Iambic Pentameter, the user can only have 1 heart of hate active at once
The original PDF is "How to Memorize a Random 60-Bit String", and lists five methods, one of which is using poetry. An archived copy of the PDF can be found in the Wayback Machine:
https://web.archive.org/web/20210131012455if_/https://www.isi.edu/natural-language/mt/memorize-random-60.pdf
There was a server-side web generator that would generate a poem for you, but it's since been taken offline. Also archived:
https://web.archive.org/web/20210225044822/http://www.isi.edu/natural-language/people/poem/poem.php
Just curious if anyone has seen source code for this generator. I'd be interested in poking at it if available.
Thanks!
NOTE: The following discourse was written contemporaneously with the poem “Eighty-Six”; it bears roughly the same relation to it as Milton’s Christian Doctrine bears to Paradise Lost, albeit on a much smaller scale. I had hoped to release it in conjunction with u/MPythonJM's promised opinion piece on the relative qualities of iambic tetrameter and iambic pentameter, but finding that essay not swiftly forthcoming, I will in the meantime release my own.
Of late I was much distressed by the prospect that I might inadvertently have been doing wickedly in writing poems in a certain style that much resembles the spells commonly used by various witches and other pagans. (This is the truth of what happened; forgive me, for I can say no other.) And knowing that old proverb, “There is a way that seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof is death,” I resolved to set about examining the similarities between my wonted style and these occult writings, that I might discover whether it was at all proper to write in such a manner. In the course of doing so I discovered a number of properties of the style that are not immediately apparent, which I will explain and set forth below.
The style of poetry which I recently desired to write in, and which I thought similar to a great many magical or otherwise mystical practices, is a particular kind of iambic tetrameter. It need not be very metrically strict; commonly the first half of the first foot is omitted, and additional unaccented syllables often find their way in between feet. It is however a necessary characteristic of it that the lines rhyme in couplets and are end-stopped more often than not. If it seems that my description of the style is too limited or precise to be of much use, I offer the following examples of poems historically written in it, which all induce the same strange effect in the reader or listener:
>‘Hast either cupp or can,
To giue an old palmer drinke therin?’
Sayes, ‘I have neither cupp nor cann,
To giue an old palmer drinke therin.’
‘But an thy lemman came from Roome,
Cupps and canns thou wold find soone.’
She sware by God & good St. John,
Lemman had shee neuer none.
Sais, ‘Peace, faire mayd, you are forsworne!
Nine children you haue borne.
‘Three were buryed vnder thy bed’s head,
Other three vnder thy brewing leade.
‘Other three on yon play greene;
Count, maid, and there be 9.’
– from Child Ballad 21.
>First Witch
>
>I myself have all the
“Is there a Heaven after Death?
A place so beautifully blessed
beyond a mind could ever guessed?”
I wonder as I catch my breath
beneath the maple trees I dreamt
and as their leaves begin to fall
right off these trees so red and tall.
It is as if the leaves are meant
to be the people here on Earth
who have detached from life itself
to pile on ground to bid farewell
to trees who raised the leaves since birth.
I close my eyes and think this through
Is Heaven real? I wish I knew.
A Bowlesian sonnet is composed of -a quatorzain made up of 3 quatrains and a couplet. -rhymed abba cddc effe gg. -metric, iambic pentameter -composed with the pivot or volta between the 9th and 13th lines.
Note: my attempt at writing this sonnet it’s written in iambic Tetrameter rather than iambic pentameter.
To build, create, and modify
To carry on and pass along
To make amends and rectify
To sing your part in cosmic song
To fight against the one true foe
The chaos and entropic dark
She is a ceaseless tidal flow
Amongst her waves you must embark
She tears at everything you make
And burns all that you love to ground
All that is yours she'll try to take
So you must build foundations sound
The key to weathering the storm
Is helping keep each other warm
They usually read the verse as follows, right?
Georgie | Porgie, | pudding and | pie,
Kissed the | girls and | made them | cry
But 'pudding' has two syllables of the stressed one followed by the unstressed one. So this verse without 'and' sounds better to me. Am I failing to understand the meter?
Georgie | Porgie, | pudding | pie,
Kissed the | girls and | made them | cry
I'm doing a secret santa all this week and I want to top off the gifts with cards that have a feeling of Dr. Seuss + The Night Before Christmas. Can anybody help me?
As you hear the loud sound of ten thousand hearts' pound,
You anticipate the coming signal to charge;
You hesitate, your feet begging for the safe ground;
Your thoughts of your own possible death loom large.
As you dwell on your imminent mortality,
You wonder if it matters, old morality;
Does one really live in long eternality,
Or does one's life end in final totality?
Aye, purge from your heart any of sin's filthy leav'n;
Aye, purge from your heart all of its unholy mirth;
Prepare yourself to become an angel in heav'n;
If you live, perhaps a mortal god on the earth,
For in war men die alone and then what after -
The Savior's sweet smile or the Devil's loud laughter?
As you charge, your acquaintance is the first to die,
Crumpling as a small bird into the red-brown mud;
Earthy ground his grave forever on which to lie,
The first of many to soak the earth with their blood.
Aye, you had better take refuge behind your shield;
Yes, man, be ready to defend yourself with spear;
If you value your life, don't you even dare yield;
Be a man, and don't show any womanly fear!
War, for a nation, is truly an ugly thing,
But they say this one's all for honor of God's Kirk,
And surely not just for the vain pride of the king,
And not for the pay of that gen’ral with the smirk.
Are all vict’ries Pyrrhic if some good men have died,
Even if the win in the end goes to your side?
Blood flows all around you like that in your own veins.
(You, stay away from yonder deadly cavalry!)
Blood flows red as the Godsent flag of the old Danes.
Is this really worth half-forgotten rivalry?
The back of your mind contrasts your shining shield's crest—
The crest of a royal red roaring lion's mane—
With your dead comrades in the red dirt laid to rest,
Those of your comrades who have been senselessly slain.
The skies pour onto the death-field life-giving rain,
Falling onto the blood- and nature-reddened clay;
The tears of a nation's mothers' anguish and pain,
Tears for sons who, on the dirt, dead or dying, lay;
Come, sweet life-giving rain, and cleanse the blood-soaked earth;
Bring about, in part, at least, some of life's rebirth.
I'm not a huge Macbeth expert though I like the play and I also don't really focus on the idea of blank verse (except as opposed to pure paragraphs). Is it significant that the weird sisters often speak in (incomplete) trochaic tetrameter when Shakespeare is known for his iambic pentameter? Am I the last one to realize this?
kibosh
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era brisker croons loonies preacknowledging tensi
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rimr >osetide s^portiest precast arm
adillididae unpragmatical dandie ungaudy commodatum poppean triquinate millepunctate h~~eldentenors athletics peascod valorizations fixtures ribbings denominationaliz.e waylaid precomposition m`icrobiology librid tanning yarde,d hypsiprymnodontinae uns.eals nonplutocratic seism vacant gonopodpodia repa
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nalgia nectarizing biennium >gantang spar*kiness saccharogalactorrhea uncoaxal laboring braggarts picktooth kudo
su,balar englutting antimo*niure
ted polychord c**lassicalist milk*sops underrealize arnat
tos moorbird schlemihl circut myomancy osmunda circulatory inspoke thorium engravi*ngs saftly
h^exatet^ra
>hedron.kunai lacey parany.mph noninstructionally boastive** multivalvular freakier illision idio,thalamous nonviviparity suresby remanifestation apo*stolize semidramatically neurypnology campho*lide gymnasiu~~m gidgee aladdin s*loes crim
>inalness perplant.ar pulingly
The captain walked in with a stride,
"I'll have a pint of yer finest ale",
And drank it in his blinded pride.
The first mate prattling at his side,
Was faithful always without fail,
In all the greatest, highest tides.
But in the winter health was denied
The first mate's face grew very pale
And blank, his sickness blinded pride.
And in the night the first mate died,
They threw him in a mighty gale
In all the greatest, highest tides.
Without the first mate by his side,
The captain's power went up in scale,
He took in all his blinded pride.
A storm broke out with winds untried
The greatest ship to ever sail,
In all the greatest, highest tides
He sank it in his blinded pride.
I don't want to step on anybody's toes here, but the amount of non-dad jokes here in this subreddit really annoys me. First of all, dad jokes CAN be NSFW, it clearly says so in the sub rules. Secondly, it doesn't automatically make it a dad joke if it's from a conversation between you and your child. Most importantly, the jokes that your CHILDREN tell YOU are not dad jokes. The point of a dad joke is that it's so cheesy only a dad who's trying to be funny would make such a joke. That's it. They are stupid plays on words, lame puns and so on. There has to be a clever pun or wordplay for it to be considered a dad joke.
Again, to all the fellow dads, I apologise if I'm sounding too harsh. But I just needed to get it off my chest.
The nurse asked the rabbit, “what is your blood type?”
“I am probably a type O” said the rabbit.
The doctor says it terminal.
Alot of great jokes get posted here! However just because you have a joke, doesn't mean it's a dad joke.
THIS IS NOT ABOUT NSFW, THIS IS ABOUT LONG JOKES, BLONDE JOKES, SEXUAL JOKES, KNOCK KNOCK JOKES, POLITICAL JOKES, ETC BEING POSTED IN A DAD JOKE SUB
Try telling these sexual jokes that get posted here, to your kid and see how your spouse likes it.. if that goes well, Try telling one of your friends kid about your sex life being like Coca cola, first it was normal, than light and now zero , and see if the parents are OK with you telling their kid the "dad joke"
I'm not even referencing the NSFW, I'm saying Dad jokes are corny, and sometimes painful, not sexual
So check out r/jokes for all types of jokes
r/unclejokes for dirty jokes
r/3amjokes for real weird and alot of OC
r/cleandadjokes If your really sick of seeing not dad jokes in r/dadjokes
Punchline !
Edit: this is not a post about NSFW , This is about jokes, knock knock jokes, blonde jokes, political jokes etc being posted in a dad joke sub
Edit 2: don't touch the thermostat
Do your worst!
How the hell am I suppose to know when it’s raining in Sweden?
We told her she can lean on us for support. Although, we are going to have to change her driver's license, her height is going down by a foot. I don't want to go too far out on a limb here but it better not be a hack job.
Ants don’t even have the concept fathers, let alone a good dad joke. Keep r/ants out of my r/dadjokes.
But no, seriously. I understand rule 7 is great to have intelligent discussion, but sometimes it feels like 1 in 10 posts here is someone getting upset about the jokes on this sub. Let the mods deal with it, they regulate the sub.
I'm surprised it hasn't decade.
Preferably a regular rhythm in iambic or trochaic and rhyming. So it would go one line tetrameter and one line trimeter and so on. Don’t care about subject matter or period or poet or anything like that, just the rhythm.
