ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
THESE POEMS WERE GENERATED
BY A CRAZY MACHINE.
NOT BY ME!
While I was searching for a useful tool for helping to shape concrete poetry (which seems to have vanished without trace) I found a free poem generator, so just for fun, I gave it a go. After selecting the free verse option I was asked to type in three words. The generator chewed on my words for a moment, then requested a further three, related to three new words it had spat back at me.
In no time at all it coughed out this strange list of phrases:
Greed
The drive that’s really climb,
Above all others is the ardent ambition.
Artistic, ardent ambition.
Does the ardent ambition make you shiver?
does it?
An astonishing avidity, however hard it tries,
Will always be eagerness.
Does the astonishing avidity make you shiver?
does it?
Better breeding is multiplying.
multiplying is better breeding.
Does the better breeding make you shiver?
does it?
Anyone who knows me well will be aware that I go in for overkill. Here’s the hilarious second poem it wrote for me, inspired by a different set of word prompts. I expected it to be romantic…
Marriage
A wonderful wedding, however hard it tries,
Will always be celebration.
Wonderful wedding.
Does the wonderful wedding make you shiver?
does it?
The unify that’s really married,
Above all others is the warm wed.
Now ringed is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the warm wed is marital.
yellow, nervous newlyweds sings like romantics
Nervous newlyweds are yellowish. nervous newlyweds are irrational,
nervous newlyweds are chickenhearted, however.
So there you have it: nervous newlyweds sings like romantics. However, in addition to their skin being yellow – a point that is repeated in case you weren’t paying full attention – their hearts come from chickens.
Finally, I requested rhyming couplets. For this I was asked to submit a larger group of words. The resulting rhyme is… unusual. I was hoping for a poem about a road-sweeper and a psychiatrist. Maybe that’s what this is; it’s hard to tell.
See the laughing of the shunter,
I think he’s angry at the hunter.
He finds it hard to see the blouse,
Overshadowed by the angry dormouse.
Who is that screaming near the broom?
I think she’d like to eat the elbowroom.
She is but a black analyst,
Admired as she sits upon an annalist.
Her shameful car is just a prescription,
It needs no gas, it runs on subscription.
She’s not alone she brings a baccy,
a pet beaver, and lots of laxey.
The beaver likes to chase an alternation,
Especially one that’s in the association.
The shunter shudders at the hilarious armadillo
He want to leave but she wants the morillo.
Maybe it’s better at haiku, but I don’t have the heart to find out.
In case you feel like playing silly buggers, here’s a link to the generator. If you do, don’t be mean; please share the results.
©Jane Paterson Basil
Making it write 
Uh. Let’s keep doing it the old way, Jane…
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Yep, I think it’s for the best. 🙂
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Oh, it sent shivers down my spine, and turned my sin yellow, I think I’m in love with your machine, or perhaps I’m having another bad dream.
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Yellow? If I didn’t know you better I’d think you were having a nasty attack of the nervous newly-weds 🙂
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Oh, there’s no sense in what I wrote, just like your machine poems hehehe.
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You couldn’t be as ridiculous as the machine, no matter how hard you tried, Ivor. Somehow I don’t think they will take over from us poets 🙂 xxx
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That’s for sure, 1.20am here and this crazy Poet’s still awake 😴xxxx
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Get up the wooden ladder to sleepy-land RIGHT NOW… not that I’m any kind of example, I’m a nocturnal animal too xxxx
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Very interesting this poem generator….love the marriage one. Newlyweds will be lining up to buy that one. lol
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What a romantic notion; a shivering queue of yellow brides and grooms with chicken hearts 🙂
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Hahaha, this is great. I tried the love poem. I couldn’t resist my inner anarchist, and added ugly words to describe my love. The result is transcendent. (I’ve capitalized the words I put)
For My Legless Monkey’s Paw
A Love Poem by Anonymous
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
My drunk is Legless,
And so are you.
Orchids are white,
Ghost ones are rare,
Your state is Frazzled,
And so is your hair.
Magnolia grows,
With buds like eggs,
Your phenomena is Phantom,
And so are your legs.
Sunflowers reach,
Up to the skies,
The seat is Vacant,
And so are your eyes.
Foxgloves in hedges,
Surround the farms,
Organs are Atrophied,
And so are your arms.
Daisies are pretty,
Daffies have style,
Your lanturn is illuminating, (I’d put decrepit but typo’d, so they replaced it with “illuminating.” But what is a lanturn?)
And so is your smile.
A Monkey’s Paw is beautiful,
Just like you.
I can’t help questioning the source material here. Even if I’d put nice words in, the poem itself has decided that I’m keeping a drunk. And how can the phrase “Organs are…” end in anything but tears?
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This is hilarious. There are a few lines I would have like to come up with if I’d been writing a humorous poem, especially:
The seat is vacant,
and so are your eyes.
I think the poem generator might be the one with a drink problem…
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I was a little disappointed that it didn’t ask me if anything made me shiver, hahaha
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Damnit! I missed an opportunity to repeat those immortal lines 🙂
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Don’t worry, now you have it in your mental Rolodex. From now on, please never, ever miss an opportunity. The more you use it the better your poem will be!
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🤣🤣🤣 Oh my, those are too hilarious!!
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It must be deliberate – surely not even a machine could write such bad poetry without meaning to 🙂
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No doubt – the …does it? Over and over cracked me up.
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I’m quite sure and certain they weren’t generated by you, Jane. Quite sure and certain of it. Why,, someone would need to be a crazy lady to generate such stuff. A crazy lady! That’s anything but you, Jane. Why would anyone think I thought that the poems were yours? What a preposterous notion! Simply preposterous!
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Tell me you shivered.
Tell me it made you shiver.
Please, tell me, tell me.
I wrote this haiku ALL ON MY OWN, with NO HELP from the generator.
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Ah, at least no one has to worry about machines taking over poetry writing just yet. Though I do love the idea of a furious dormouse being unable to see past a blouse – is it like the pirate shirts we had back in the 80s? They did have pretty big ruffles! Great fun Jane
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Thank you for taking the trouble to plough through this insanity Lynn. It takes courage and stamina 🙂
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Haha! It’s sort of interesting really, because I have read poetry a little along these lines, purportedly written by human beings … 🙂
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It does happen… 😉
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