the distilled moisture of the moon
the flower of flowers
the philosopher's stone is liquid sand
clarity and wisdom
hand in hand
one rock, one medicine
to which we add nothing
and take nothing away
not changing lead into gold
but gold into a clear spirit
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)
Saturday, May 2, 2009
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