Unintentional Poetry
Here is the best of totally unintentional communal poetry. It's written by folk who didn't have the slightest suspicion that they were contributing to the effort, and shamelessly plagiarised by me.
Read on, and sue me if they don't rival with the best koans you know. After you've read the first one, see the picture below to reveal the secret behind the poem, and the names of the authors, themselves unaware of their worthy words.
Please tell me it is so
But what will you give me
Such a little firebrand
And I have no mother or father
From that dark day to the present
Far and few, far and few
Look what I pictured on road
At midday
scraped the cupboard
On that little heap of stones
But
You decide, if they die or not
Sorry for your father
Dead or alive
If I were
In the middle of a wood
Reed broke the silence
An inn when he suddenly noticed
You can save more on the goods for solving man's problems
And here's the secret to the origins of this poem.