So with my brand new toy, the Random Sentence Generator which I wrote from scratch, I have produced the following poem. I translated the grammar of the first couple stanzas of the Amy King poem The Psalms Called Breath and it came out a little something like this:
I have been prayed by the eternal coils. First boyish and deaf. Then athletic and disjointed. My noise emulsified beyond the sunburn of my business. While the sensation is. The noises of yeti within my head, my poison. My journalist talking a sonorous mystery, mostly yesterday and conjoined. Back to what it must be like to endanger. The armpit of a new bacteria the steroid would have us split.
The script:
#VERBFIRST. First #ADJ and #ADJ. Then #ADJ and #ADJ. My #NOUN #PRESENT_ACTIVE_3S #PREPOSITION the #NOUN of my #NOUN. While the #NOUN #PRESENT_ACTIVE_3S. The #NOUN+ of #NOUN #PREPOSITION my #NOUN, my #NOUN. My #NOUN #PARTICIPLE_PRESENT #SUBJECT, mostly #NOUN and #ADJ. back to what it must be like to #INFINITIVE. The #NOUN of a #ADJ #NOUN the #NOUN would have us #INFINITIVE.
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)
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
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