Thursday, August 27, 2009

Tweet Poem (Auto poetry, part 3)

I'm not sure why
I'm so fascinated by auto-poetry generation.* It's not really "poetry" in any real sense, but perhaps the raw material of which poetry is made. It can be a Rorschach test, a stream of babble that we put together to give us look into our own minds, or it can be a kick to the commonplace consciousness, putting together images and thoughts in weird combinations, stimulating sparks of thought. I was amazed, for example, how both Jim Stanley and Shelley Chernin took the same "beatnik ramble" and put it together into different, but both quite insightful, poems

So, check out the "longest poem in the world": Romanian student Andrei Gheorghe wrote a 'bot that grabs the real-time twitter feed, selects out posts that rhyme, and aggregates these into a continuous feed, with about 4000 verses added every day.
OK, frankly, it doesn't really make much sense:

I bought the wine and gushers. You bought the broken heart.

Ready for the summer to end and fall to start.

Early to bed early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise:

why do the bad girls get the good guys and the good girls get the bad guys

It's all false love and affection

and my lil pony collection

No, not really "poetry" in any real sense, but like a lot of auto poetry, it can be weirdly hypnotic. The tweet poem is a window into the collective consciousness, a look at an instantaneous zeitgeist which is equal parts quotidian and philosophical, romantic and mundane and cynical.
And every now and then there'll be a good line.

I used to have a handle on life. And then it broke.

Desperately trying to cut down on the booze and smoke.

(thanks to slashdot for the link)
*Maybe because I'm too lazy to actually write poems.


Geoffrey A. Landis said...

Sometimes I wake up crying at night and sometimes I.....
really wants to watch Legally Blonde... and has no idea why.

and maybe our hearts will find their way, only heaven knows
Ooh! Paradise Ridge, first shipment, Zinfandel and Rose!

crash and burn,
live and learn...

Geoffrey A. Landis said...

oh my, here's another section, and, so help me, it almost makes sense...

It's late, and I want to talk to you so bad...
I'm confused and frustrated. and a lot sad

And it's really cold in here and sleepy and cold do not mix well
Wish i were british and had a lovely accent. Would be swell.

i was a dreamer before you went and let me down
Like bonnie and clyde, let's find a ride and ditch this town.


The poet doesn't invent. He listens. ~Jean Cocteau