Yellow newlyweds and greedy breeders

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.

 

shiver (2)

 

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

24 thoughts on “Yellow newlyweds and greedy breeders

  1. 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?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. 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…

      Liked by 2 people

  2. 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!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. 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

    Liked by 2 people

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