Army (draft)

The Morning’s black armour is well-oiled,
And He encroaches silently.

The gloom of dreams remains uncongealed,
Held at bay with idle browses

Through the rooms of many houses.

They come, shaking in triumph

Their long grey hair. They come
By my hands which halt the binding flame

Which for me would signal sleep.

---

See Joyce's 'I Hear an Army'

http://www.lit.kobe-u.ac.jp/~hishika/joyce.htm

Ideas for Code Poems

[to be written as a program in a high-level language, and displayed in descending order with its translation into increasingly lower levels until the poem is represented in binary form]

flame
reduce me to ashes

OR.....something like (pseudocode follows)

Print “entropic heat”

Print “reduce me to ashes”

--
here the descent is implied, and actually ends in the waste heat from the voltage jumps, which are the ultimate low-level translation of any computer code



-------------------------
title: degradation to pidgin

convert to leetspeak poem exactly 140 char for tweet
-
It may be contaminated, jargonized, disrupted language, but it is not a new language, not (yet) evidence for the invasion of an empire of machinic colonizers whose demands of trade and interaction require the creation of a pidgin by economically and linguistically disempowered human users.
-
http://www.electronicbookreview.com/thread/electropoetics/literal
-

draft
--
!7 m4 8 (n7mn7d, j29n1zd, dsrupted lngu4g, but 1t 1s not 4 nu l4ngu4g, not (yet) evdence 4 d4 1nv4sn of 4 mpire of m4chinic colonizrs whos dm4nds of tr8d n intr4ctn rqire d4 cre4tn of 4 p!j1n by ecnm1cly n lngu!stcly d!smpwrd hmn usrs

to the tune of 'verbal intercourse' off cuban linx

same damned ritual

Rise sun, nah, I slumber

'Phaeton,’' says Zeus, 'what

the fuck is wrong with you?'


no sub-text

On this subject

Me, the shit-flinging monkey

Galore I adore words

and letters Units of measure for

unbounded pleasures

Turn the page, enter

Whatever fantasy O.G.

technology delivers

To escape from reality

I'm Properly unbounded in the

pages of a knowledge tree

where i'm found

kid this flow, my stroke - solid gold

like the medal i oughta hold

for these mic skills cold

when the whispring woods r moanin/my face is clenchd and crawlin

time 2 watch film
time 2 watch film
time 2 watch n be
n be nothin but fantasy

On the Death of Muammar Gaddafi

jesus quaddafi’s dead, have you seen the video?
you just have to get the fuck out there
it’s better than any movie
his blood is so red
it is real blood
in the video (right ;;)?)

its all happening to fast for us artists
those who are thinking
some dude on his cell phone
beat everyone to the punch - everyone. it’s
just raw, life, what you can do with it
technology
art is _action)_ no error corrections or intentions
because nobody has any clue and those who say they do are full of it
on the internet
academics are full of it with their twitters, foolin g us in
to thinking we need them. nah, i mean
yes we need thought - but - but -
the holy sanctity of your average phd?
jesus quaddafi’s dead, have you seen the video?

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10150362178348094

Multi Medium

Speak.

What have you heard?

What have you heard now?

Invisible Cafeteria at the Invisible College

The Cafeteria

always makes you sick,

never leaves your side,

knowing how much to eat, and what

is how you stay alive.