2nd Coming
from death, to doom
mama make my bed soon
in the orange glow of dusk
better hasten to starlight
frost reflected on tombs
in the glittering gloom
resurrected at midnight
to earth I return
amid wreck! amid ruin!
mama, make my bed soon!
is there sooth for a warrior
lampooned in the ether
of flat time and dead space
baby, make your bed soon
if its comfort you yearn for...
then be eager to die for it.
tlkz 2003
Computer poetry is warfare carried out by other means, a warfare against conventionality and language that has become automatized. Strange as it seems, our finite state automata have become the poet’s allies in this struggle, the long historical battle by which mankind pries into the surface of language to reveal its latent mysteries… R.W. Bailey, Computer Poems (1973)
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
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