game of fit. be bid on by the concrete person. I would echo you to collapse into your retiring circle. has extracted the forest of your blanket was out of this characterized catastrophe. toward the finger. angle of foam. be assailed by the concrete sunburn. besmirch the games of animalistic stuff whose concrete moment is the mental combat. I would consume you to cry your desiring sunburn. has prayed the blanket of your eye. characterized on this contradicted ground. out of the sensation.
That blessed gem is the produce of my upcoming poetry machine. A poetry generator which runs on scripts that look like this:
#NOUN of #NOUN. #IMPERATIVE_PASSIVE by the #ADJ #NOUN. #IMPERATIVE the #NOUN+ of #ADJ #NOUN whose #ADJ #NOUN #PRESENT_ACTIVE_3S the #ADJ #NOUN. I #CONDITIONAL you to #INFINITIVE your #PARTICIPLE_PRESENT #NOUN. #PERFECT_3S the #NOUN of your #NOUN. #AORIST_ACTIVE_3S #PREPOSITION this #PARTICIPLE_PAST #NOUN. #PREPOSITION the #NOUN.
WordPlay
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)
Thursday, April 22, 2010
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