Lost in (Google) Translation

I've always loved spam bots. Today, our dear @Horse_ebooks, the assumed spam bot, announced that it is indeed not a spam bot, but a real person and that the "spam" on Twitter was performance art, and that it will likely be retired because the performance is over...

For those of you who don't know, Horse_ebooks was a fantastic, mind-numbing, gibberish-laden false spam bot that always posted hilarious, nonsensical posts on the interwebs. It was even made into a comic you can find here: http://horseecomics.tumblr.com and has a ton of fans on Twitter, Reddit and Facebook.

I always assumed Horse_ebooks was a real person who just happened to like gibberish as much as me. It reminded me of a project I started where I would write a fake article using bits of sentences from actual published articles, translate them into any language using Google translate over and over again, going through as many languages as I could stand before finishing by converting it back into English. The end product, as you might expect, is mostly gibberish, but reminds me so much of those poorly translated spam bots you see posting everywhere. I would go to various social media websites and other blogs I was a part of an post them. Most people thought my account had been hacked. I always pretended to be none-the-wiser... Great fun indeed.

I figured I'd postpone my other posts to honor the recently exposed and probably terminated Horse_ebooks. I decided to do the traditional spam post, talking about, of course, what else but, Abercrombie and Fitch (and hating it), as well as other random tidbits, even including pictures chosen at random on Google images using phrases taken from the false-spam. Again, fun.

If you like these, you should try the experiment with poetry. It's pretty hilarious. I did Coleridge's Kubla Khan below, as an example.

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Abercrombie Plus Fitch Does Really Extremely! 

In recent posts, one notices Abercrombie plus Fitch was investigates selling of extremely everything for sexy. So, one asks, when does it for what time is mentioned do something of the sort. For each and every one is simply forgoing on what sexual side notes can deem really. Also, knowing how formations of tendencies inside Abercrombie plus Fitch.

One recently posted upon being near Abercrombie plus Fitch:

"Strong. I great feeling great and the stores want to be more diverse with different people of all races are $ $ $ :) flashlights."

And.

"Im more Abercrombie & Fitch, you only pay for the brand. I'm sure you 21 / Charlotte Russe / always find cute clothes on / at least I can express."

Also.

"I regret buying things here because it is just a waste of money. Just a stupid T-shirt that says 25 Abercrombie."

Here we have proof! Now that Abercrombie plus Fitch does really extremely!

The grain displays Conversely, the parties only

Arabic acid and implement Displays, and display or export. By design, we go to the Artisans, the most frequent basic technical Polish, print Corresponding Fatty Arabic.

"...the most frequent basic technical Polish..."

*

Time for the computer data, but a pencil creation.

Depending on the low cost of printing images potsherd the following before he passed to print, poster printing and production supervention not very powerful force with a distance that leaves aviator running expensive print father. 

The poster is printed in the printing ink. Of a hundred copies. On the stone is the color Depending Replaced stone roller, quick Bleeder a 2 cylinder provide many runs.

As a musician, passed, while a combination of nitric acid with a Rolling eight hours primitive: a jar and glue or more very young Apprentices can. A second poster for example, a few hundred father was an appropriate size.

"...a few hudred father was an appropriate size."

*

As the ink, while the evening and it was his principle stand expense of another color, draw a picture nitric acid, then Germany.

In theory, then, and father to use a cylinder to make. Cylinder of the draft in the Workplace stress.
The paper is therefore a book. The end of the pressure cylinder, the right size to dry. Many of the Artisans of bread shows the Lithographic printing Processes a 2 Screens common in the sketch to print cylinder was the first father.

The drawing shows run very sensitive, if not black leaves and stones and increased copies of a poster, the pieces of the fat from junk.

"...black leaves and stones and increased copies of a poster"

*

Finally, the fine Grains and rubber base often given, and vice versa, protection of water to remove. We need people to share four Work groups to print the same size as eighth in the art of wet stone, and big, because the workers.

Father to devote to one side and back of each print was on the paper to dry for Turpentine. And it was standing, we can give as many up and down too much, and the ink from the first cylinder legend was not known at first, and the choice of working with lines of print head on a big spread.

Not in the short run digital print aviator print March inexpensive Accommodation. For the poster, Lithography, Invented in the zinc - cylinder water, stone simple text printing only the parts of their imagination Displays.

The passage of a few Scenes from the rock changes color whole corridor. The workshop was a poster, a Fluorescent, there are some fat to keep the ink to get. Slides relatively quick, one - color, flat on the father as a stone.

"...flat on the father as a stone"

*
At least Bleeder print a second flush, with the first cylinder, dried with a pencil, Lithographic printing hard - pressed in the small model.

"At least bleeder print the second flush..."

In a dream or vision. fragment

Xanadu of Kublai Khan
Stately pleasure dome decree:
ALPHA, the sacred river,
Through the cave houses
Without the sun, the sea.
So twice five miles of fertile land
The walls and towers surrounded by round:
And there is a garden with winding groove lighting,
Many trees bearing fragrant flowers;
Here the old wooded hills,
Sunspots surrounding vegetation.

But, oh! It is a deep romantic chasm tilt
Over the green hills Sidarn cover!
Wild places! Santo and delighted
Under the moon distressed Elgin
A woman cries demon - lover!
This gap is even boiling turbulence
Fast thick pants if this breathing earth
Powerful source of forced time:
Faced with the rapid explosion of media flash
Huge fragments vaulted like hail, recovery
Mixer or the next great scourge pot:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It was once a sacred river.
Five miles meandering MAZY
Through wood and sacred river valley
Then caverns measureless,
Fury drowned in a lifeless ocean:
And 'this means tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophecy war!

At the top of the shade fun
Midway floated on the waves;
When they heard mixed
From the fountain and the caves.
This miracle of rare cells,
Sunny pleasure dome of the ice cave!
dulcimer Girl
In the vision I saw him once;
This Abyssinian maid,
In his dulcimer playing,
Abortion Singing Mountain.
You can get my
Her symphony and song,
To the profound joy old "beat me,
This music is loud and long,
I'm in the air, the building, the dome
It is a dome from the sun! These caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there
I have to mourn, beware! Attention!
His eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle around it three times,
Close your eyes, afraid of the test
For him, honey - dew Hey,
Drink milk paradise."

Exercise 13 (Mirror Poems)

Another wonderful exercise plucked from languageisavirus.com's 82 writing experiments by Bernadette Mayer. I've been pretty lazy overall lately, especially when it comes to making decisions, so I left it up to chance again and got:

13. Write a poem that reflects another poem, as in a mirror. 


But what does it mean to write a poem that reflects another poem? I guess that's up for interpretation. You could metaphorically mirror a poem with another, either synonymically or antonymically, which begs the question, is the reflection of a thing merely a different perspective of that thing or is the reflection the thing's antithesis? Hmm? And do you choose to use the same rhyme scheme? One explanation would be to write the poem backwards, readable in a mirror, or to write the poem in reverse order. Or I'll do as many as I can!


-----------------------------------------

Deferred Dream A

Deferred dream a to happens what?

Up dry it does

Sun the in raisin a like?

Sore a like fester or--

Run then and? 

Meat rotten like stink it does?

Over sugar and crust or--

Sweet syrupy a like?

Sags just it maybe

Load heavy a like.

Explode it does or?

*

derrefeD maerD A

?derrefed maerd a ot sneppah tahW  

pu yrd ti seoD

?nus eht ni nisiar a ekil

--eros a ekil retsef rO

?nur neht dnA

?taem nettor ekil knits ti seoD

--revo ragus dna tsurc rO

?teews ypurys a ekil  

sgas tsuj ti ebyaM

.daol yvaeh a ekil

?edolpxe ti seod rO   *
Suspended Aspirations
What about suspended aspirations?   Are they barren, desiccated like desert corpses? Or do they bubble and congeal-- like geyser froth? Are they rank and fetid like toxic waste? Or do they cocoon themselves-- in layers of shells?   Perhaps like ocean depths they coldly crush.  

Or do they backfire?

*

An Atrophied Ambition

What of an atrophied ambition?   Will it shrivel up like a chrysanthemum in the heat? Or will it surface like a zit-- and then retreat? Will it ooze poison like a toad? Or rust like an iron chain-- and corrode?   It could weigh down upon you like a ton.   Shoot you like a gun?   *

Encouraged Indifference
Who cares about encouraged indifference?   Doesn't it sprout wings and fly to the moon? And bear plenty of fruit-- for the world to eat? Doesn't it smell like fresh roses? And peel back in delicious layers-- like a fresh croissant?   It definitely doesn't float about aimlessly.   

Doesn't it reconstruct?

Beau Présent

Rhythm and visual form in poetry have always intrigued me. The first poem I had published was visually and audibly rhythmic. To me (I don't know about anyone else), it read much like improv jazz sounds, clustered at times, elegant here or there, dynamic, powerful.

The first poet I loved was e. e. cummings.  He often broke his words apart and scattered them across the page, or even turned his poems into little puzzles meant to be worked out. I always admired his visual style. And then, years later when I became more serious about writing poetry myself, I discovered a clip on www.ubu.com (an incredible resource, by the way) of e. e. cummings actually reading one of his poems. If you've never heard him read, the experience can be quite shocking! (here it is) I was stunned. He sounds very much like a specter, his emphases very rhythmic and precise but still ephemeral, bewildering, warbling, entrancing, bizarre. That's when I really fell in love with giving readings of my poetry, or writing poems with the idea that I would have to read out loud some day.

Ezra Pound coined the terms melopoeia, phanopoeia and logopoeia to describe three kinds of poems, or at least three elements of poetry, defined thusly:

Melopoeia: when words channel emotions or take on new meanings simply by how they are heard; essentially, the musical elements of a poem.

Phanopoeia: visual imagery, and, I'd argue, the poem as an object on the page; essentially, all visual elements of a poem, poetically or physical.

Logopoeia: the intellect of a poem; essentially, the meaning derived from the sounds, images and structure, concocted in the mind.

(all of this can be found with slightly different definitions from wikipedia here: Logopoeia)

I feel like great poems include all three poetic elements. A poem should be just as interesting to read as to listen to, and indeed should express greater depth when both reading and listening to it, enhancing the logopoeic experience.

Some forms of poetry channel both melopoeia and phanopoeia simply by their style. The OuLiPian constraint Beau Présent is one such form. A beau présent is a poem written only using the letters in the title, usually the recipient's name. I've written a lot of them, and it's probably one of my favorite constraints. I even wrote one to be read at a friend's wedding ceremony. The first poem used only the letters in his name, the second used only letter from his wife's, and the third poem used letters from both their names.

This poem took a long time to write, as any beau présent does, but the outcome is pretty awesome. It's also a sound poem, (a poem without much logopoeic meaning) the chosen title word being onomatopoeic (KABOOM!).

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Mo + O + Ba + K → KABOOM!

  a mob mob a momma,

a mom bomb a mamba,

a ma'am

                bam

      a bam

                     -boo.

a baboo abba amok!?

a boob?

                      KABOOM!

a boob!

                      KABOOM!

a kaka ook,        a babka kook; 

        a kobo bo-bo...

                  a ba baa a BB

bomb a mama kob,

kabob Bob,

boo     a Kokomo      mambo,

                        book a koa boa--

OK???                KA-BOOM!

             KO!

KB?!

             KB, A-OK!

Akko baboo

bomb oak

kaka.

KABOOM?

AMA 

A-bomb a

momma.

                      KABOOM!

Moab

(AKA

Mao) 

ammo.

                                   KABOOM!

Kabaa

abba 

A-bomb

ambo.

                                            KABOOM!

(moo)

Sleep Poems

I gave an example of a sleep poem the other day on Facebook because. I figureI'd keep a running sleep poem and share it on. I feel like it's long enough now to share.

Oh yeah, and I wrote this description while falling asleep too (I'm about to go get some coffee and do some cleaning). The process is simple but you have to be tired (really tired) for it to work...

Step 1: Get tired (easy)
Step 2: Allow yourself to drift (easy)
Step 3: Start writing (easy)
Step 4: Fall asleep while writing (not as easy)

If you wake up, go back to sleep, but keep writing as you drift off. I used to do this inadvertently during boring lecture classes at ULL, with some hilarious results (I'm sure you've done it too). I've gotten to the point now where I can pretty much type while sleeping, and although there were a lot more mistakes than what's listed here, Blogger has autocorrect (which is in itself interesting).

I'd recommend it tonight. I've started a strange sort of dream journal that I only write (type on my phone) while I'm falling asleep. I think I'll also intersperse actual dream entries into the journal for added effect.

---------------------------------------------------------------
Sleepwriting #1

Stoppd the round
After a little bit of time
There could have been a better
batman
Hammer down on my head fists wall
Juggalo
flxonle

Sleepwriting #2

writing while you fall asleep
even the idea of getting caught
thinking deeply
get something new every day
it mskes more sense than the other way
writing a poem like licking a rainbow
thinking about what would happen
getting drunky
your supposed to go the only reason
eating the wrong earth
these french people keep talking
for some reason I keep thinking carrot
then you just keep writing
and see what comes from it
I can't hear a goddamn thing anymore shit
look at that hose alert confounded
fights like monster fish

Sleepwriting #3

drifitng dritf
finally found some
 ,where lights go and stoop at the north
finding diamionds
I can;t stop thinking about jesus
wheres the pink pin cushoon now? muy hands are all blurry I get it
doesn't forget like you try to so I won't
that big man on caampus
after af ew
smels like a cheesex sandwich only fucking pisschreese.
hahass  I'm sdorry I didn't mean to intrude
rememories
lurk cnap in bye I'm almost there
wheats the thing now with you know
sunshine every day everyd ay
but to say hi
i like being told hi all the time its great
you told me that time you got your finger jammed
no faces rven come close
I gave tgen 2 weeks to show up and I noticed
its a beak in her
sarah bootycap listne to the raido
right on no time nothing time nada
he's getting a beating ok sorry can't say who
he needs to leaven here heaven
I love this shit I can do
I don't like microphones either
sombody's getting all wrapped up in doorclothes
urgently take another shot we're fooled again
you didn't get to hear this last time

Exercise 54 (Ways of Making Love)

This exercise comes straight from languageisavirus.com, a great site for writing prompts and exercises. Bernadette Mayer has many wonderful writing experiments, 82 of them listed there. I picked a number at random (using a number generator from random.org) and got 54... excellent!

54. Write the poem: Ways of Making Love. List them. 

Well isn't that exciting! I'l try it!

---------------------------------------------------
Ways of Making Love

  Making love on furniture:
                kiss your neck on the couch,
                      goosebumps
                           behind your ears
                  and in my fingers
                    wrap the wisps of hair
                            tug
                              slide my hand
                           under you
                     lift you up to meet me;
             
              Spread your thighs on the coffee table
                  nibble gently, at first
                    hold an ankle
                        run a hand up to your knee
                            pull you
                       into my mouth;
                 
           Bend you over the computer chair
           the desk
           the stool
           the walls are fine too
                     for pressing against,
           the floor
           the sink
         
Romping naked, outside
       bite each other in the starlight
             dew collecting on our bare skin
         blades of grass, hundreds of fine tongues
                         licking

Grab each other by the waist
      and dive together
           into the warm pool
         collar bones and shoulders
               edging out of the water
                thighs intertwined
                   
                       ~sink~

          shimmering water's surface
               cascading bubbles
             sunbeams lightly spearing our flesh
                 muted by our depth

In the closet, pitch dark
     dungeon dark,
  in the dirt in the cellar
        grab handfulls of earth
      clench teeth
 dissolve in the stark emptiness
     
  I cannot write them all,
      it is not possible
         these will just have to do
           for now
         ways of making love
      I'd like to try all of them
    again and again
         and find myself
             and you