Posts Tagged ‘haiku’

Cecilia Giménez

August 31, 2012

Boldness, behold man!
The sanctuary of the
artist in a work

miserable—an act that
falls to an inmost

cause, political
considerations of new
idols touched by the

creationists, the
primitive figure of a
movement that combines

the intelligent
intervention of severe
expressionism with

the accuracy
of artistic belonging:
Goya, Munch, Ensor.

[Original Spanish text of the petition “trinitized” via Spanish-English and Latin-English triple-filtering, Bing and Google translators.]

Gore Vidal

August 19, 2012


There is no human
problem that could not be solved
by litigation


Every time I drink
I die a little—it’s the
drudge of suicide


Democracy is
unnatural sex between
consenting adults


Television is
the highest form of love—a
decadent virtue


The bacteria
of American Empire
grow in media


The genius of Bush:
priestly narcissism and an
I.Q. of sixty


If it were a choice
between Reagan and a birch,
I’d vote for the tree


Chris Marker

August 1, 2012


Reality is
a pitfall best imagined
as a memory


McLuhan betrayed
us; his beauty is borrowed
from backlit eye-time


It does not belong
to us to show what we see
the way we see it


The function of a
shot is suspended in a
trace-moment of play


What is needed: the
lovely fragility of


Avoid the level
of long-ago, but rarely
avoid Gutenberg


Bob Dylan

July 31, 2012


America is
a dime store Elvis dying
in a bus station


Freedom is making
the hideous music of
violent decay


To be President,
you have to suppress your own
human ambitions


Poets must carry
the burden of chaos, chained
naked to their dreams


Democracy has
been crucified by money
and patriotism


All the truth in this
land adds up to nothing more
than the lies of kings


I am in limbo,
the pawn of a future of
breathing illusions


Albert Camus

July 25, 2012


At thirty, a man
should know himself like the palm
of a martyr’s hand


A work of art is
a confession from the heart
of a heretic


The weight of days is
the true university
of the hopeless fool


Absurdity can
strike any man in the face
like autumn flowers


Alone, without God,
we are in servitude to
the State, our master


The adoration
of the police is the sign
of a vulgar mind


At a certain age,
every man’s responsible
for his slavery


Robot Exclusion Protocol

July 24, 2012

page cannot be crawled
or displayed due to robots
from robot system

disallow modules
disallow add-on modules
disallow hopper

exclude search results
disallow cache disallow
texts disallow help

disallow starting
points disallow articles
disallow index

disallow stress test
disallow stress disallow
agent disallow

copyright the next
line is a spam bot trap for
the doc tree logs you

should really change this
to something else disallow
all our manual

results all our art
disallow all new pages
disallow all old

user ideas
disallow Latin version
but allow robots

[Via a Wikipedia link on “Eleusinian Mysteries” page]


Paul Valéry

June 13, 2012


An oracle of
indifference, God never
finishes His work


Two dangers threaten
the world: the man of sound mind
and the true madman


Politeness is the
science of charm, abuse and
total massacre


At times I think, and
at times I am—I feel like
a calculator


The history of
literature may be summed
up in a word: war


Poe is the dancer
of disorder, the fire of
dreams and misfortune


Businessmen should be
under lock and key; it is
a poet’s judgment


Camille Paglia

May 22, 2012


Madonna is an
imbecile abstraction of
Marie Antoinette


Picasso is the
mother of patriarchy—
self-love is incest


The chemistry of
feminism is the science
of the prostitute


All emotion is
Apollonian—we are
drunk with brain music


Television is
closer to reality
than is human life


If you live in rock
and roll, the taxidermist
doesn’t repel you


Sex is the point of
contact between scholarship
and entertainment


Nancy Pelosi
is a monstrous stimulus
package of dog lust


There is no female
Mitt Romney because there is
no female Mozart


Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

May 9, 2012


Women are a sweet
fiction; richer in sin, the
shadow of evil


The inclination
to die is the rational
path to the convent


The soul, alas, is
a beautiful illusion
born of wayward shame


Desire is nobler
than remorse; it enthralls more
than reason abides


Rare is she who will
concede the enchantment of
happily straying


Günter Grass

April 26, 2012

There is Something to Say

But why me? Quiet
so far, I thought I would come
out of my garbled

stain, a stain that will
be removed. Israel is
who I am and I

will always be an
extension of this open
declaration of

fact. Why only grow
old now? Enough rest, I say:
Nuclear peace is

the energy of
brittle risk in a world where
tomorrow may be

too late; as Germans
we offer physical crime,
this is the future—

our partnership will
not delete the usual
excuses. I’m sick

of broken silence
and the hypocrisy of
the West; forgive those

who require silence,
renounce the use of force. The
authority of

a free nuclear
capability is the
review of Monday.

[via English-Hebrew-German-English-Arabic, Bing translator]

Sourced via uncredited English translation:

“Elastic Aspects” Reshaped

April 2, 2012


Equality of
surface, soul of surface; the
raw eye assembles

a focus, a 10-
dimensional forest of
materials. The

gradual rainy
surface becomes a flowchart—
which is the voice of

explosiveness, which
is substituting for an
aspect of silence.

[The 13 song titles of Matthew Shipp’s “Elastic Aspects” via Japanese, Yahoo Babel Fish translator]

Ken Kesey

March 6, 2012


Republican consciousness:
lizard falsity


In America
the spirit of mercy is
largely unexplored


The conservative
mind: no integrity, just
fascism rusted shut


A psychedelic
warrior is a stone-faced
shaman-poet head


The grinding fire of
religion will burn the Right
like baptism lightning


The frontier of world
revolution is a fat
seismograph of love


The enigma of
Christian cruelty: death will
pay homage to God


Sun Ra’s “This Planet is Doomed”: The Galactic Redaction

February 8, 2012

material void!
vacuumatron of Earth
a negative hole.

rash planet of war,
isolated from cosmic
spheres, chained to famine.

hideous parrot
idol—the only law is
love for salvation.

bleached skeleton, bones
stupid in the sand of a
dehydrated brain.

of shadows to authorized
reality: death.

. . .

let me synchronize
super-lightning seers with the
thunder art of time.

footsteps pattering
upon the rim on the edge
of the in-between,

the pioneering
mind, evolution of the
crystal sound herald:

chaos is music,
invisible light, music,
silence is music,

pivoting planes of
harmonious peace, music,
a vibrating fire.

sense creation is a form
of intuition;

you will recognize
the retromental spirit—
blue metathesis.

if you limit, if
you reject, pure music is
your nemesis field.

spiraled parallels—
pure sound, the living mirror
of the universe.

quiet, vigilant
silence, intuitional
intuition, from

the decision code
of the cosmo-usual
to the outer planes

of is-ness, sees the
solemn riddle, the cache of
the untuned double

beast, acoustics of
not-ness, density of the
hyperprism, hyper-

density of the
isotropic bounce
on a dimension

of infinite-dark
vibratory sun ratios.
the atmosphere is

a coplanar bridge
axis, an intermix of
rotating orbits.

tomorrow’s realm—light
years’ journey to a new shore,
world of abstract dreams.

Bukowski’s Last Poem (and First Fax)

January 25, 2012

Oh, forgive me, for
whom the bells bend. I forgive
you, walking in the

water. Forgive me,
O Lord, who was in the old
shoe, small. Oh, forgive

me in the middle
of the mountains from the voice
of the day and night,

speechless death. Forgive
me the leopard who died last,
large. Oh, let me sink

all the fleets, armies
defeated. The first poem
fax, this: add to cart.

[via French-Galician-Dutch-Filipino-Latin-Welsh, Google translator]

Jorge Luis Borges

January 3, 2012


The central problem
of reality is the
sand of memory


Democracy is
an incomprehensible
series of effects


is a fight between two bald
men over a comb


To die for art is
easier than to live for
God the destroyer


A translation is
truth in the divine language
of uncertainty


The empire of love
is built on a river of
resigned solitude


Life itself is a
quotation that corrupts life’s
quotation itself


Causality is
a dream that suppresses the
fact of Paradise


The future devours
posterity; it is an
ignorant tiger


Religion is the
coronation of the sphere
of the infinite


There is a single
moment in which one finds out:
time can’t be measured


“Abomunist Manifesto” Remanifested

December 29, 2011

Abomunist Expression

Take hands and feet and
something abomunist, or
spit’s about the same.

Frink abomunist
poetry, drawing, photos,
unemployment and

the abomunist
Prime Minister. Countries risk
real-time, ready-

to-drink death, nation
of abomunists who feel
American pain,

BOLI pain.
If you’re in Abomunist
Square, the exception

is a rectangle.
If you want to display talk
using only a

newspaper, read with
$50 is

an abomunist
debt. Solve problems and write your
own money, not for

more money, for the
abomunist Catholic
fanaticism of

what are just dreams set
Protestant true. The think-Pope
is a candidate

for think-President,
fosters poet children who
believe that the new

literature builds
printism abomunibly—
abomunists of

write-foot, published by
outdated restrictions. Such
artists desire to

communicate but
read dentistry files at home,
in unmarried house

of mother’s mother.
Insane sanitariums,

prisons, USO
kindergartens and county
canteens—get ready

for abomunist

philosophy of
abomunist everything
but snowman water.

[via Japanese-Latvian-Norwegian-Polish-Vietnamese, Bing translator]