Tag: silly

Google Translate Sings the National Anthem

flag

I sent the words to “The Star-Spangled Banner”, the national anthem of the United States, through a bunch of languages in Google Translate and then back to English. The result was . . . unique.

Google Translate Sings “The Star Spangled Banner”

Aha! You say

in the light of the aurora.

See your sunset!

Bands of light and dramatic confrontation.

Today we are looking

 at the wall.

A bomb exploded at a red light.

However,

it is consistent.

Bud, Stars, and Stripes.

This port

is home

to thousands

of Courage.

-M.M.

Crossword Poem

D
T C R O S S W O R D F S A M
H N A W U
S M I L E S W R I T I N G L I M
N K A A N E S S B
Y B A C O N T H E H L
C L R D D L I
R A O O E O O N
P O E M S M U M B L I N G S G
S I S A T H I S
A T H I S A N D S
C H S W I S H D O N T L
R A O A A C R O S S
D O N T R M K S
S S A N D G E T T A K E
F A L S E N I H
M D E M A N D P O E M

Note: The following stanzas were constructed using only the words from the crossword above.

Crossword Poem

I.

This is that crossword poem

Swish! Blam!

Bacon Sam.

Random Mumblings on demand.

Don’t take down,

And don’t get lost,

Writing in the false across.

This is that crossword poem.

II.

This is random writing.

Crossword across and down.

Sam is lost.

Bacon is lost.

Take that down the poem.

False swish. BLAM!

This is writing.

Don’t.

III.

Sam is writing on bacon.

Don’t get lost in that crossword.

Writing on bacon is false mumblings.

Random demand: Swish that bacon!

Blam down and get lost.

Sam is writing on bacon.

-M.M.

True Love

Llama Love

True Love

 

“You want to do WHAT?”

“Marry him.”

“But… he’s fictional—”

“And perfect.

“And I wrote him into existence.”

Romantic, isn’t it. I just can’t wait to—”

“BUT HE’S NOT REAL.”

“So what?”

“So what what? Are you going to put the book on the altar and…”

“Yes. Won’t it be wonderful: I now pronounce you book and wife. You may now kiss the book.

“You’re unwell. I ought to call the—”

“Oh hush up. It’s true love. Don’t be jealous.”

“Jealous? I’ll try really hard.”

“You never were much of a Romantic.”

“That’s why I write about friendly, dignified, personified…”

“…DREAMY! Don’t forget to dreamy.”

dreamy, and apparently attractive llamas!”

 -M.M.

Google Gets Patriotic

lincoln

The following poem was inspired by a poem in which the book Genesis in the Bible was fed through all the languages in Google Translate and then back into Englishm where the poet repunctuated it. I used the same method in creating this poem.

Note: For those of you who may not be familiar with The Gettysburg Address, here is an Wikipedia article to tell you more about it.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gettysburg_Address

The Googlesburg Address

[The Gettysburg Address as told by Google Translate]

They did come from four continents,

and years ago,

our ancestors who were born in freedom,

tied,

creating Equal.

Jakarta shall constitute a country.

We dedicate

a two-time hassle

Engaged in a major civil war,

Fighting in a major location,

In situations,

On time.

In this case, life is life.

We’re doing things right.

At this point people sense the age.

It is not clear.

We cannot add life and death.

These brave men,

the poorest in my language or comment,

increase pleasant.

It’s time to erase a memory.

Here they fought people.

I do not forget it.

Give generously.

Committed, in the middle of a war and in the community

—it’s why they have a prepared death.

Died for naught.

Bonds in the dead.

Measures to meet obligations.

They are done.

In freedom march.

Play a major upload function.

-M.M.

Miner Discovery

13878983-cartoon-mine-entrance

 

Miner Discovery

 

The miner was mining (as miners will do)

With a pick in his hand and a foot in each shoe,

Chipping away in the dark at the stone,

Humming a melody, lost and alone,

With naught but the minimal light from his hat,

Searching for anything new to look at—

A flecklet of gold or silver would do,

Or rubies or diamonds or sapphires blue,

Still chipping away in the colorless light,

Which never was day nor ever was night.

 

Then with a swing his pickaxe struck home,

The wall so soft that it might have been foam.

“Hoho!” he cried, “I seem to have struck

My very first underground vein of good luck!”

Then pulling his pickaxe out of the crack,

He saw it was covered in something, not black,

But white—a goopy glue, frothy and slick.

It poured from the crack, clumpy and thick.

It formed a small puddle around his old boots

And came to a stop. He let out three hoots.

 

After tasting the tip of his pick with great care

He knew he had found something yummy to share.

So he scampered away to call the whole crew,

Barefoot, of course, for his boots stuck like glue.

And that is the story of how it was found

That marshmallows come from under the ground.

-M.M.