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
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts
-
at the root of silence. paused a powder. rolling backward over the gutter. & dissolved in anOther’s eyes. & a chest secretly envied ...
-
they say the door opens inwards push as you will it will not budge & there is no lock so the key cannot be gasped nor felt ...
-
the LORD's house called time furnace tender Gilgal ( gate of desYre ) place of blood out where foreign gods preach through their te...
-
silence is the ambition of insanity. pandemonium morals & sestina ethics. behold songs coming through the walls. recycling the eulogies ...
-
It's becoming, in light of recent police aggression, understood by most, that it is not the gun that is worthy of our fear, but the bad...
No comments:
Post a Comment