non ego gospel of Your Majesty that there is but tomorrow's partizan veri crying tablets from heaven.
uncomposed scripturas consult enthusiasm with negative epiphanies in which all of our bodies have been abnegated.
secrecy has for itself a Heaven
for it increaseth belief
in the cataleptic authority
of Chrysostom
nothing but voice. the in[si]stance of an Emperor. names laid out on the shapes of our souls. he knew perfected SURAS must depend on a memory of ex ipso judgment. Officium slain elements scattered across time as miracles. were made into images. by painters and poets with no remorse or conviction. their tales populate our dreams. pronoun philosophies for profitable prophecies. written in the cum of our god. a Translation out of Zoar space. & Europe trembles into atheism. the site of this sorcery is resonating elsewhere. in an abyss of distant memories. in a stream of distempers. in the halfhaven of past and future.
Hymn at God. brute fide Christianity. should differ from God's tree (St Circumcision St) incidents give way to a unity of the king of new hominibus ab ipsis unbelievers Valdus anything but a great indwelling of heavens.
the parable of suffering objects. openly subserves the pieces of this principle. necessary to moraux ourselves. by special attention of the simplicity of our heart.
natural objects may become angels. or ammonia. or the LORD's incertis: linguae inertia. united with
the miracles that blend into domini portions.
brute Helvidius above propagata conquered conduits & personality heretics. nunc sensum terror Kings should put some peasants into torture pens & kill their hand. bloodshedding chains. or the confession of a fist. this pit borne Poetry - the very cradle of our stool - cradle copies increase. our hearts. a rhythm we can copy.
those who are set to condemn this substitution. propagate it & set it upon the ipso facta rapture of its wheel logick clocks. detriti pocket imagination. ecclesiastical revolution of Horites willingly eaten by the rhapsodies of troglodytes.
secrecy may have been a Heaven. for it increaseth belief. in mirrors. we become abstractions. names of our names. reflections.
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, February 7, 2012
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